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Victoria was going into her third trimester. Things at home were better than she could have imagined. Kyle was a doting father-to-be, and Brendon was overjoyed that he was going to have a baby sister when he got back.
Luna, Ellie, and Rita thought it would be fitting for them to host a party at the atrium. After all, it was where it had all come together. They decided to make it a combo party, giving Victoria and Kyle a baby shower and the wedding reception they had never had.
Jimmy still kept a low profile to maintain the legend and mystique of the invisible honor-system metal sculptor. But he was always available for his sister and fellow artists. He was content in knowing he was no longer alone. He had a sister and a growing family.
The day of the party, Rita had gone overboard with the catering, to everyone’s gastronomic delight. A small jazz combo played, and Chi-Chi’s rendition of songs could make a strong man weep. Cullen was pumped up like a rooster knowing the exquisitely talented woman was his regular Saturday night date.
Suki brought several origami mobiles to decorate the atrium, including the one Tori had finished. She also gave everyone a pink origami crane as a party favor.
Jennine was tailing Chi-Chi, interrogating her about Abeo. After months of being cordial, Chi-Chi finally told Jennine to find out for herself. She could no longer deal with the aftermath of her brother’s debauchery.
Victoria and Kyle truly looked like a happy couple, with Kyle managing any and all of Victoria’s needs, wants, and desires.
Ellie was pleased as punch when George Layton arrived to cheer on the happy couple. Ellie had no idea Tori worked for the man. Another twist of fate. George and his late wife were fixtures at the many fund-raisers she and Richard had attended years before. Now, with the two of them widowed, a new significance to their friendship could be found.
And then there was Luna, basking in the warmth and light of the love that surrounded all the people she loved, including the handsome Marshal Christopher Gaines, who stuck by her side like Velcro.
Chapter One
The B.A.R.R.N.
Bodman-Antiques-Retro-Restoration & Namaste Café
Buncombe County, North Carolina
Present day
Adelivery truck pulled up to the rear entrance of Cullen Bodman’s restoration workshop. He wasn’t expecting anything, but the driver handed him a printed version of the bill of lading and began to haul a crate with a dilapidated steamer trunk off the back of the van’s motorized lift. Cullen eyed the document. It was addressed to him, but there was no return label. He looked up at the deliveryman. “Do you know where this came from? There’s no return address.”
The guy shrugged. “I picked it up at the hub. It was on my route ticket.” He stopped at the door. “Where do you want it?” Cullen looked around the workshop, pointed to a space against the far wall, and moved out of the way.
“Is there some way I can find out where this came from?”
“Beats me.” The guy wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “Please sign this.” He handed Cullen an electronic clipboard and a stylus. Cullen scribbled his name and repeated the question. He didn’t get any further.
“You can call the dispatcher if you want.” The driver turned, hopped into his vehicle, and drove off, leaving a very perplexed Cullen standing in the doorway.
* * *
Like clockwork, Luna Bodhi Bodman arrived at the café at her typical time, nineA.M.On her way, she stopped at the Flakey Tart and picked up her usual basket of scones and muffins. Even though the Tart had its own kiosk at the art center, Luna served their delicious delights with coffee and tea during the day.
At the age of thirty-three, she was a dabbler in paranormal psychology and an amateur medium. Dabbled is probably an understatement. She didn’t want her unconventional way of thinking and feeling to be a detriment to her brother’s restoration business. But she certainly looked the part of a New Age psychic if there was such a thing. Her hippie wardrobe, waist-length hair, and granny glasses were a huge clue that she was not your run-of-the-mill barista. The café had been her brother’s idea. She had agreed to run it because doing so gave her the opportunity to do her readings as well as be of assistance to him. Plus, with the café being right next door to his shop, he could keep an eye on her. Not that she couldn’t take care of herself. But Luna had a way of generating more excitement than was either necessary or expected. But that, too, was part of her charm.
In addition to the readings her unconventional talent allowed her to engage in, she was an artist and design consultant. When called upon, she worked with her brother Cullen, assisting customers engaged in redecorating or refurbishing parts or all of their homes.
Cullen heard the bell that signaled that someone had walked into the showroom. He checked his watch—9:15A.M. He was looking forward to one of the Flakey Tart’s blueberry scones. He knew it was a bad habit, but they were too delicious to pass up. The days the center was open, Luna would bring Cullen his morning coffee and his favorite breakfast pastry.
Luna was a bundle of energy, spinning her light into the room. Cullen, who was not and never had been a morning person, marveled at how bright and effervescent she could be so early in the day.
“Namaste, brother.” She gave a little bow as she handed him a tray holding a cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso and that blueberry piece of heaven.
“Good morning, sunshine.” Cullen gave her a slight bow in return.
“Something smells a little smoky.” She sniffed the air and turned to her dog, Wiley, a border collie. “What do you think, fella? Something smells different.”
Cullen cocked his head in the direction of the far wall. “Somebody had an old trunk delivered. It’s still in a crate.”
“Smells like someone had a fire sale.” Luna would never let her curiosity go unsatisfied. She inched her way toward the mysterious parcel. She kept inhaling and turned to Cullen. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Her eyes grew wide in an accusatory fashion.
