Free A Fatal Appraisal by J. B. Stanley

and
fascination. The soldier had received two shots to the face, erasing his
identity forever. No letters or personal documents were found on his body—just
a scorched locket with the remnants of a woman's portrait and these six gold
coins.
    According to the labels affixed below the coin display, each
coin was a three dollar gold piece minted in Dahlonega, Georgia in 1854. To
date, only a handful of them were known to exist. The soldier wouldn't have
been using the coins for currency, and since they were hidden away inside his
pocket Bible—holes had been cut through the pages in order to hide the coins—he
may have carried them for luck, but they were otherwise a mystery.
    "Didn't prove very lucky," Molly said to herself.
    "Guess not," agreed an elderly man with a white
moustache, gold spectacles, and a blue seersucker suit leaning on a wooden
walking stick. He smiled and his face creased in every direction, his pale blue
eyes sparkling with intelligence. "Each one of those coins is worth at
least eighty thousand dollars. They're all AU Dahlonega coins with unusually
high eye appeal. Only one thousand one hundred and twenty were minted and one
hundred are known to still exist. And these three are in unbelievable
condition, despite the young man's unfortunate fate."
    "Are you a numismatist?" Molly asked, trying to
sort out the jumble of coin terminology.
    "Used to be. I gave my entire collection to my
grandson, so now I just admire the ones I see in passing."
    Molly returned her glance to the coins. "What does AU
mean?"
    "About Uncirculated. Circulated coins have received
wear. Mint coins are perfect with no wear. AU coins exist in the realm between
extremely fine and mint." The man chuckled. "But I certainly could
never afford that level of coin. One of those beauties sold in New York last
year for one hundred thousand dollars."
    "Wow! So there's almost half a million dollars worth of
coins here? Shouldn't a team of armed security guards be watching them?"
    The old man pointed with his cane to an empty chair across
the aisle. "That's where the guard's supposed to be, but I imagine he went
to check on that power failure. Plus, we're all here working and watching. No
strangers walking through the halls just yet.” He gave her a playful wink.
“Speaking of work, guess I'd better get back to supervising my interns. Enjoy
the exhibit."
    Molly cast one more appreciative look at the coins and the
photographs of battlegrounds. Civil War displays always made her feel depressed
and she hated to see the tragic evidence of what had happened to the men and
women of a divided nation, so she hastened along to find Borris and Jessica. As
she passed by Frank's screened niche, he hailed her over with a wave.
    "The slant-front desk is ready to be
photographed," he told her. "And I thought you might like to be
present when I check for hidden compartments. After all, I owe you a favor for
finding me an auctioneer so quickly."
    Molly couldn't resist the possibility of discovering some
treasure of unspeakable rarity within the desk, so she ran over to Borris's
exhibit area to tell him that she would be late, but the camera crew was
already filming him with a large, leather-bound anatomy book. Victoria was
standing by to film the segue between the segment on the anatomy books and the
next commercial break.
    "Can you tell him that I'm with Frank and I'll be back
in a little while?" Molly asked Victoria, who issued a bored nod in
response.
    The slant-front desk had been expertly polished and waxed.
Its red patina radiated age and beauty as Frank ran his hands tenderly over its
surface.
    "No gloves?" Molly teased.
    "Not on camera!" Frank answered shrilly, oblivious
to her jesting. "Take some pictures, then we'll dig around inside."
    "Hasn't the owner already searched for secret
areas?"
     "I doubt it. The owner's an eighty-four-year-old lady
who has had this piece in her family for years. She just wants the appraisal
for insurance purposes as