Rarities Unlimited 02 - Running Scared

eyebrow at Niall, who was kicked back in his chair as though he didn’t have a worry in the world. “Voice of experience, I presume.”
    “Bloody right.” His low-voiced growl was at odds with his amused blue-green eyes and clipped brown hair. He shifted his broad shoulders and reached for his shirt buttons. “Want to see my scars?”
    “I don’t think his heart could stand it,” Dana said. “And Risa is far too young for such a manly display.”
    “Hey, y’all, I’m thirty-one,” Risa drawled, letting her Arkansas upbringing pour through her smoky voice. “That’s old enough to know better than to let some male show me his, um, scars.”
    Dana’s laugh made her look much younger than Risa suspected she was.
    “Right,” Niall said. “If you’re not interested in a manly striptease, how about a look at some old gold jewelry?”
    Without waiting for an answer, he pushed back and walked to a long, spun-aluminum case at the far end of the table. The box was about the size that a professional pool player might use to protect his favorite cue. There was a similar, smaller box on the opposite end of the table.
    “Recorders on,” Dana said to no one in particular.
    “Running,” answered a disembodied voice from a ceiling grille.
    “Is that Factoid?” Shane asked, gesturing toward the grille.
    “No,” Niall said. “Our research guru is off today.”
    “With Gretchen?” Shane asked, smiling. Joe-Bob McCoy, aka Factoid, had a permanent lech for his boss, the head of research. Gretchen Miller was twice his age and half again his weight. A real Valkyrie.
    “At the moment she’s working with Ian Lapstrake and Lawe Donovan,” Dana said. “The Rutherby inheritance.”
    “Too bad,” Shane said. “I’ve got a great menu for Factoid to try out on his next date with Gretchen, assuming he ever talks her into another one. Food guaranteed to make the woman of his dreams lust for him.”
    Niall snickered. “What is it—oysters twelve ways?”
    Dana rolled her dark eyes. When it came to matters biological, men were such simple creatures.
    “A bit more elaborate,” Shane said. “First, a bunch of candles surrounded by agates.”
    “Why?” Niall asked.
    “Guaranteed, time-tested aphrodisiac.”
    Dana snorted softly.
    Shane kept talking. “Shrimp cocktail, celery soup, endive salad, halibut with paprika and juniper. Wine, of course. Benedictine and chocolate for dessert. Then the night of your dreams awaits.”
    “For that I’d even eat endive,” Niall said.
    Dana cut him a glance that said she would remember his words and use them against him. He hated endive.
    Without realizing it, Risa let out a soft moan at the thought of Benedictine and chocolate. “You’re killing me. All I get for lunch is carrots and celery.”
    “Why?” Shane asked, startled.
    “The usual reason. I can’t afford new clothes if I eat my way out of these.”
    “Are you hinting for another raise after the one that I was forced to give you to—”
    “Argue on your own time,” Dana cut in. Then she said to Risa, “The client’s request is that you do a ‘cold’ appraisal. Visual inspection only.”
    “Cold appraisal for hot goods?” Shane suggested.
    Dana gave him a look that could have frozen fire. “The provenance on these goods is above reproach. The collector is merely reluctant to invest in a full appraisal if, after a quick look, the goods seem to be less than they were advertised to him.”
    Shane smiled and tugged on his forelock like a peasant standing before his lord.
    Dana ignored him, though her lips twitched around what might have been an answering smile. She had a weakness for men who were smart, easy on the eyes, and hard on the opposition.
    Niall opened the first aluminum box and lifted the lid. Inside, each within its own individually cut nest, pieces of gold jewelry gleamed.
    Instantly Risa forgot everything else in the room. She went to the open case and simply stared at the contents. After a long, silent minute, she began talking.
    “First impression. Celtic, of course. Styles and techniques range from La Tène to Mediterranean. Age could be anywhere from fifth century b.c. to fifth century a.d. If you need dates on individual pieces, it will take several days for detailed stylistic comparisons with artifacts in museums, published papers, auction catalogs, online collections, that sort of thing. Most of my references are in Las Vegas, because you said you only needed a fast