Page 12 of Dangerous Obsession

“I couldn’t wait.” Shayna squeezed by. “Remember I told you about the woman who lived next to my parents? The one who used to be a model in New York?” Her words tumbled out as she headed into the sorting room and laid the garment bags gently on the table like one would a baby. “Unfortunately, she lost her long battle with cancer a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, my gosh. I’m so sorry.” She pulled her in for a hug. “I know she was very special to you.”

“Thanks.” Shayna gave her a quick squeeze and stepped back. Her excitement too great to be restrained by a hug.

Marigold leaned her hip against the table.

“Shelley was so cool. She gave me this for my sweet sixteen.” Shayna reached up and touched the small circular, silver peace sign hanging from a delicate chain around her neck. “Ever since I was like nine or ten, a few afternoons each week she would let me hang out at her house. She would give me store-bought cookies and iced tea—she couldn’t cook at all.” She giggled at the memory. “I would sit, totally captivated, as she showed me photos and told these fascinating stories about her time in the business. Shelley would throw around names of some of the biggest designers of her time as if they were old friends. Diane von Furstenberg, Gloria Vanderbilt, Halston, Anne Klein, Stephen Burrows, Emilio Pucci, Yves Saint Laurent. Can you even imagine what her life must’ve been like?” She smiled, and her eyes positively lit up at the thought.

“Your friendship with her is what nurtured your love for fashion, isn’t it?”

Shayna could take a bolt of unassuming fabric and create a stunning gown worthy of the red carpet. She also loved hunting for vintage, designer clothing and accessories—a passion that benefited the boutique and earned her a generous finder’s fee.

“Oh, totally. I’ve been drawn to design and fabrics for as long as I can remember. But getting to see and touch all of the amazing pieces she’d gathered over her career was a gift I can never repay. Which brings me to why I came in early.”

The slowwhirof one of the garment bag zippers as she dragged it open heightened the anticipation until she threw back the flap. Hanging from satin, padded hangers was a colorful stack of what looked like vintage clothing.

“Are those—” Marigold’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open.

“Yes, they are!” Shayna clapped with giddy joy, then hurried over to grab a chrome rack and rolled it closer. “And they are a-mazing!” She looped her fingers through a handful of hangers, lifted them, and hung them on the rack. “And there’s more in here!” With the same dramatic flair, she slowly opened the other bag.

Marigold grabbed a bunch of them and put them with the others. Starting at one end of the rack, she looked at a piece—front and back—slid it aside and looked at another, then another, and another.

Twenty pieces in all. Four iconic silk Gloria Vanderbilt wrap dresses; six trouser suits by Yves Saint Laurent, including one dubbed thesafari suit. And Halston must’ve loved Shelley because she had ten beautiful, flowy Halston dresses in all different colors, each one suitable for any disco dance floor.

“And this isn’t all of it. I have another garment bag, a plastic tote with purses, one with shoes, and two more with scarves, hats, gloves. You name it! And I want to sell all of them here.”

“What?” Marigold shook her head. “No, Shayna, you can’t do that. You should keep these for yourself.”

“Shelley was six feet tall and super thin, and the pieces I brought in today are allwaytoo big for me.” She set her hand on the rack. “Don’t worry, though, I kept a couple of pieces that I can tailor to fit my shrimpy five-foot-two without ruining them.”

She swiped her bangs away from her face.

“Well, I’m paying you an increased finder’s fee, because once they’re priced and posted on our website, our customers are going to go bonkers.” That gave Marigold an idea. “Shayna, how would you like to do the pricing research for these items?”

“Seriously?” The young girl’s eyes widened. “You trust me to do that?”

Until now, Shayna had been assisting customers with finding things and ringing up their purchases, straightening the clothing on the racks and, recently, helping with the front window display.

“Of course, I trust you.” Marigold set her hand on Shayna’s shoulder. “And let’s face it, you probably know a lot more about these pieces than I do.”

“I doubt that, but I’d love to price them out for you.” Her body practically quivered with excitement.

“Excellent.” She glanced at the big clock on the wall behind the registers. “Let me get you started in my office, then I’ll unlock the front door.”

“Oh, my gosh!” Shayna clapped her hands. “I am so excited.” She pulled Marigold in for a hug. “Thank you, Marigold, for trusting me.”

“You bet.” She stepped back, and they headed to her office.

A few minutes later, Shayna was happily clicking away on the keyboard. Confident the teenager knew what to do, she left her to it and walked to the front of the store. After a quick check of the street, she flipped open the dead bolt and slid open the lock at the top of the door. She swung it open, and the string of silver bells attached to the hand bar tinkled softly.

The man who owned the pet supply shop across the street stopped swiping a rag across the big plate glass long enough to wave at her. She returned the favor, turned to step back inside, and noticed something peeking out from beneath the door mat. Assuming it was a flyer from some business, she squatted down and slipped it free. It was a yellow envelope with a capital letterMwritten on the front.

Goosebumps scratched across her body. She spun around and quickly checked the area. She yanked the door open, pulled it shut with so much force the bells smacked against the glass, then she locked the dead bolt.

“Are you okay?”

Marigold spun at the sound of Shayna’s voice, and the girl must’ve seen something on her face that concerned her.

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