He grasped it in both of his, his clear gray eyes taking her in. “Sorry, I shouldn’t stare,” he said. “You’re really pretty. And I’m being totally inappropriate.”

Somewhere at the back of the shop where Peach was working, there was a raucous thud and the whir of a power tool.

Nonplussed, Natalie said, “Thanks for coming. I’m excited to hear what you found out about all our artifacts.” She introduced him to her grandfather and then Peach when he came up front. As they shook hands, Peach said, “Hey, Jude,” then chuckled. “I bet you get that a lot.”

What a dork, thought Natalie. Why did she find that charming?

“Not really,” said Jude. He scanned the barrister cases and the display under the glass counter. “Rare books?”

“Indeed,” said her grandfather. He was shuffling papers, something he seemed to do to calm himself. “That was our very first stock in trade. Blythe and I started the shop with some old books we found in the basement. We’ve had some exciting finds—a book by each of the four original Bohemians—Mark Twain, Bret Harte, Charles Warren Stoddard, and that lady poet, Ina …” His voice trailed off. “I don’t recall her full name.”

“Coolbrith,” muttered Peach, heading to his truck with some old lumber.

“That’s correct,” Grandy said. “Thank you, Mr. Gallagher.”

“You just came up with that,” Natalie said.

He shrugged, then used his hip to open the door. “Her name’s on a plaque at the library over in Oakland.”

She turned to Jude. “My mother specialized in works by California writers. If you know any collectors, send them our way.”

“Will do. Let’s take a look at your stuff.” He followed her to the back office and set down the collection of found objects and artifacts. There were old photos, letters, and ephemera. An opium pipe. There was even a bag of gold marked For my Annabelle.

“Fool’s gold,” Jude told her.

“Bummer. It would be nice if it was real gold,” Natalie said.

“Sadly, it’s not. I wonder if whoever stashed it away knew.”

“Poor Annabelle. Maybe it’s a good thing she never found out.”

Jude moved quickly through the photos and letters, small whittled objects like mouth harps, buttons, and whistles. There were several stock certificates for things that no longer existed. One of the letters concerned the Levi Strauss company, but according to Jude, it had no worth other than human interest.