Death of a Rug Lord
Chapter One
When I looked the gift horse in the mouth, it was clear that she'd been drinking. I couldn't help but take a step back. She, alas, took two steps forward.
"Aren't you Abigail Timberlake?" she said.
"Guilty."
"You own the Den of Antiquity down on King Street, right?"
"Right as rain in November."
"I've been in your shop dozens of times."
I smiled quickly over clenched teeth. I'm a tiny woman, just four-foot-nine. One good whiff of her breath could send my alcohol level over the moon.
"So you saw my ad on TV, huh?"
It was either give up on sobriety or appear to be rude. "Yes, ma'am," I said, "I've seen your ads, and I couldn't believe my ears. And now I can't believe my eyes. How can y'all afford to price these Ori ... read full excerpt from Death of a Rug Lord ebook