Vicki's Office
Henry Fitzroy unlocked the door with his new key. The reception area looked better than the last time he saw it and smelled like plaster. He wrinkled his nose. While he had no doubt Vicki might try to move furniture and fix walls, she was in no condition for it.

He stepped into the open doorway to her office. She slept with her head down on the desk. It looked uncomfortable but her heart rate sounded good.

"Vicki." Usually when he approached her awake, she sensed him. It proved she wasn't scared of him at least. When saying her name again, he lightly set his hand on hers.

A moment later, she her eye lids fluttered. "Nicholas?" She sounded confused.

Definitely not the highlight of his night. "Who's Nicholas?"

Vicki rested her cheek against his hand. "I haven't figured that out yet." She looked up with tired eyes. "He wants to be my new assistant. Says Margaret Winthrop referred him."

"He talks to ghosts?" That was a rare skill and most people claiming it didn't have it.

Vicki sat back. "I don't know." She rubbed her eyes. "Something's off with him."

Without thinking, he reached forward and brushed the side of his hand over her cheek. It answered his question as to whether he was going to stay. He couldn't resist her. "Back to bed?"

"I need to see my apartment."

Henry traced a thumb over her lips. "It can wait." Not that he could do more than tuck her in. Although he wondered if her acceptance of his touch was necessity or interest. With the injuries, and the ongoing threat, she had to rely on someone.

"I need food." Vicki stood, grimacing. "And stuff."

"Pain medication."

She reluctantly agreed as she moved around her desk.

Her cell rang before she reached the door to reception. She looked at the screen giving away the caller before answering it. "Hey."

Henry hated the jealousy. He was tired of competing for her affection with a man that didn't appreciate her. He unfortunately understood the complications with past relationships. She needed to end it. Easier said than done. She couldn't see what he cost her.

"Have you heard from Colin?" Mike's tone caught Henry's attention. "Uniforms found his apartment in worse condition than yours. Someone attempted to break-in at the antique shop, but something stopped them."

"He's not answering his phone. It goes straight to voice mail. I left messages."

Henry opened the door to the hallway. From her body language, he knew plans had changed. She couldn't stop being an investigator even if she couldn't be a detective anymore. The bravery and determination still appealed. But the stubborn that went with it tried his patience. It bordered on suicidal at times.

Vicki continued, walking out. "Colin probably witnessed what happened to me at Curtis Park. The stalker wall and the murdered girl might have been retaliation for something I did." She didn't like that possibility. "Or he approached me because he was being stalked by someone obsessed with me."

"I spoke with Chelsea. Some of what she said doesn't check out."

Henry pressed the lift button, waiting for the elevator and the call to end. Unfortunately, he'd lived long enough to know that ultimatums didn't work. She had to see Mike for what he was to accept it.

"Where are we going?" He asked as she ended the call.

"An antique shop in Alderwood."

History's Treasures
Vicki Nelson looked at the storefront and concluded "antique shop" was generous. It looked like a thrift store with delusions of grandeur. Henry noticed an ugly piece of wooden furniture in the window and seemed oddly focused on it.

She moved over to him, the effort reminding her that her injuries were far from healed. "What?"

"It's mislabeled."

"You recognize it?"

Henry nodded. "It's Victorian."

Vicki knew she was missing something. "Listing it as German makes it worth more or less?"

"Significantly less."

She nudged him.

"An abused wife found her husband's mistress near death and with a servant they escaped. The servant introduced them to magic." He sounded like it was a forgone conclusion. "They targeted their abuser."

"By cursing his furniture?" As much as she meant it as a joke, she wondered if that was where the story went.

"No." Henry hesitated. "The husband had children with his first wife. He viewed his only daughter as a way to make money."

"Lovely." At least when her father decided she wasn't worth his time, he left.

"His first goal was an arranged marriage. When that didn't work, he sold Adelia." It wasn't a good memory. "I barely got to her in time."

"You were together."

Henry nodded. "With her father gone, her stepmother needed his sons gone for hers to inherit. She killed Adelia's older brothers. Then came for the younger ones." Pause. "Eight people were dead before it was over."

"What happened to Adelia?"

"She married a man old enough to be her grandfather. He needed someone to take care of him." Henry smiled with mischief. "I climbed in her window for a few years until her husband died and she married someone who could give her children."

She suspected it didn't end there. "The chair?"

Henry's eyes sparkled with amusement. "The mistress reportedly turned Adelia's stepmother into a chair that resembled her soul."

"Very funny."

"It's the occult value of it."

Vicki groaned. "Recognize the others?"

He looked around. "The jewelry box symbols are part of an incantation for fidelity."

Without thinking, she crossed her arms. Then grimaced. "Seriously."

That amused him more. "Probably commissioned by a man wanting to make sure his kids were his."

"It's a magic antiquities store." She wouldn't if it was coincidental. "What about the stone slab in Thompson's basement?" That was potentially a occult artifact.

"I don't know."

Vicki needed to research it. She wished she could call Coreen. "There's an anthropologist that studies funeral practices." She remembered how she knew that as she turned back toward Henry's car. "Margaret Winthrop funded his research."