As soon as Theirn picked Caiden up at the art gallery Monday evening, they drove to Antique Row. It was only three miles from the house, and turned to be several blocks of antique shops, some housing groups of dealers, others only one. D&C Antiques had its own building.
“Are you certain Mr. Styles will be here?” Theirn asked after they parked and were walking toward the rather plain white building with its black tile roof.
“Yes. I called and made an appointment. He’s expecting us.”
The interior of the shop looked as Theirn had expected. All kinds of vintage furniture filled the floor area—some of it set in home-like formations, other pieces scattered around. Above were various lights, from ornate chandeliers, to what appeared to be fixtures from as recently as the nineteen-fifties. More
