A Fatal Appraisal Read Online Free PDF

floodlights that the men had erected
in order to perform their tasks.
    "Randy and Chris." Frank introduced Molly to the
men. "They're my cleanup crew. I simply can't get near a piece until
they've cleared off the dust and waxed it up. I can't tell you how many brands
of wax we went through until we found one I wouldn't have a reaction to."
    As Frank droned on about his allergies, Randy, a short, wiry
man wearing a Nascar T-shirt with cutoff sleeves and black tattered jeans
rolled his eyes at his partner.
     Chris, a smooth-faced man in his mid-twenties with a
sculpted body and powerful-looking hands, returned Randy's judgmental look with
a shrug. Chris had shiny blond hair and aquamarine eyes that seemed so
unnaturally bright that Molly wondered if he wore colored contacts. She was
having a difficult time tearing her gaze away from the rippling muscles on
Chris's forearms as they carefully stroked the surface of the desk.
    "Gorgeous, isn't it?" Frank asked expectantly,
watching the men work. Molly thought he was talking about Chris and she was
about to agree when she realized he was talking about the desk. Before she
could answer, Frank suddenly threw his hands in the air and snapped, "Rub
that evenly, Randy! It will look like garbage on camera if you don't rub along
the grain! How many times do I have to tell you that?"
    Randy shot Frank a menacing look. "Oh, just quit for
now," Frank said disgustedly and shooed the two workers away. "Go
chew some tobacco or whatever it is you do when you're not waxing furniture so
ineptly."
    A flush crept up Chris's neck as he dropped his cloth and
grabbed Randy's skinny arm, leading him away from Frank. Randy shot Frank a
look of pure venom before Chris was able to successfully maneuver his angry
coworker out of the exhibit area. Molly stared after their sweat-stained backs
in sympathy. There were some real divas in the antique world and it looked as
though Hidden Treasures had its fair share.
    Relieved to have a distraction, Molly took a good look at
the desk. The base was comprised of four graduated drawers with brass pulls.
The center of each drawer had inlaid escutcheons made of delicate bone or
ivory. Molly pulled down the "slant front," which created an instant writing
surface when resting on the two slide supports, and drew in a breath. Opening
the desk had revealed a dozen shaped pigeonholes—the small caches carpenters
created in order for their patrons to store letters, ledgers, quills, or other
correspondence-related items. Some of these pigeonholes were simply empty
spaces meant for stacking documents and some were filled with small drawers
given the same inlaid escutcheons as the outer drawers.
    "And can you believe it? I have the original set of
keys for the four drawers,” Frank whispered reverently. “Now, shall we talk
about this unbelievable wood?"
    "It really glows." Molly was impressed. "Is
it cherry?"
    "No. Black walnut with yellow pine secondary. See? If
we pull out a drawer you can see to the back." Frank removed two of the
top drawers. "The whole case is actually made of pine. Most southern
slant-front desks were made of walnut or mahogany, but this piece has the most
gorgeous lines. All original hardware, original escutcheons, and nary a major
repair in sight It's a killer piece. Probably Williamsburg made, circa
1780."
    "No major repairs?" She arched her brows at Frank.
"I don't even see any minor ones. Can you show me?"
    "Certainly." Frank preened. "There's nothing
noticeable, fortunately. Here's the first one." He pointed at die back leg
of the case. "Looks like someone broke off the bottom and replaced it with
a newer piece of wood. It's a good repair, though, and at least one hundred
years old, so it won't affect the value of this piece, which is significant ."
    Molly nodded, having no idea what Frank meant by significant
"And the second repair?"
    "That's even older, I'd say," Frank answered,
sliding out one of the supports that held up the writing surface