Read Online Austentatious by Alyssa Goodnight - Free Book Online

the key plate and knob, the covers, inside and out, and then each individual page, lingering over the ones left with fortune-cookie wisdom. Having been through the very same process myself, although admittedly with more frantic fingers, I could tell she was searching for clues. Just as I knew she wouldn’t find any. They simply weren’t there. And, oh, was that bugging me!
    “Amazing. I sooo want one of these. You, my friend, are going to be the stuff of urban legend.” It was clear I had just gone up a notch in Beck’s estimation. I kept chewing; she gushed on.
    “What if this is like The Last Mimzy, but instead of being a device to communicate with an alien culture, maybe you’re communicating with the past, channeling the matchmaking genius of Jane Austen! Or what if this is one of those ‘artifacts’ collected by the government and stashed in a warehouse in South Dakota, like that show on the SyFy channel. Or remember The Gods Must Be Crazy, with the Coke bottle that dropped out of the sky and changed everything... .”
    “Okay, I get it,” I said, holding my hands up to derail Beck’s runaway train of thought. “Hollywood loves crazy, unexplained phenomena.”
    “You think there might be another one, a little matched set?” She shot me a mischievous smile. “Which shop was it?”
    I answered just as my eyes finished rolling. “Violet’s Crown Antiques, just a couple of blocks down on the other side of the street from here. Self-professed ‘Purveyors of Curious Goods.’ Truer words ...”
    “So you don’t think she has another one? Well, then maybe you’ll let me borrow this one after you ‘have your cake but meet him too.’ I can wait until the romance really gets going.” Little smart aleck.
    “How can you possibly need any help in this department?”
    “I think it’s the pink—and maybe the stud. I think it scares off the nerds, and I adore nerds.”
    “Who doesn’t?” I agreed.
    As I watched Beck pore over the journal, I fantasized about the many nerdy facets of Mr. Brett Tilson.
    The walk to Violet’s Crown Antiques was quick and in the thick of Austin “Weirdness,” and the closer we got, the more I worried. Beck was wired, but relaxed enough for window shopping, whereas I was tense and fidgety, not at all ready for any more surprises.
    “You ready, Mulder?” We were steps away from the shop, the source of my personal X-File, and I figured Beck would thrill at the chance to be typecast as the weird detective.
    “Lead the way, Scully,” she said with a grin.
    I pulled on the brass door handle and thought to add, “How about I do the talking on this one?”
    No answer.
    A little bell echoed from some mysterious spot in the back as I walked through a mind-boggling mix of goods just as likely to have been fished from someone’s trash as culled from an estate sale. I made my way toward a makeshift counter in the middle of the store. Lavender was thick in the air, vying with the smells of dust and old age. I smiled at the chignoned shop owner, reaching into my bag and fishing out my one-of-a-kind find. I held the journal face out, the fancy little hardware on display, hoping to spark a memory.
    “I bought this journal here a couple of weeks ago. It was on the table with some old novels and brass candle snuffers ... ?” Her only reaction was to lift the reading glasses hanging from a chain around her neck and settle them on her nose. “I’m not, by any means, knowledgeable about antiques, but this little book seems like it’s something special.” Talk about your understatements. “I confess, my curiosity is piqued, and I wondered if you could tell me anything about it—where you got it, any history, anything ... special?”
    I turned my head slightly, my eyes darting around in their search for Beck.
    “I’m surprised I remember it.” The words had me whipping my eyes back around to focus on the shop owner. “But I do. It was a bit of a stowaway, tucked in the drawer of a