The parking lot was empty, but that was nothing unusual at six in the morning. Justin rolled up and parked on the far edge of the gravel lot, letting out a yawn. He'd stayed up a little late studying, but he wasn't going to miss the opportunity his father was finally providing. Besides, it was a welcome distraction from the lack of sex resulting from dumping his cheating girlfriend a couple weeks earlier.
After smoothing back his light brown locks, Justin popped on his
Barn Owl Treasures
hat and headed into the shop. His father had decided to turn a family obsession into a business, and gained quite a clientele all across the country. One man's trash may be another man's treasure, but it takes a special breed to find those dust-covered gems hidden in barns, attics, and basements along the backroads of America.
Born to a long line of packrats and collectors, picking was in Justin's blood.
The bell on the inside of the door had barely started to chime when his father walked out from the back room. "Ready for your first solo pick?"
He walked up to his father and answered, "Good to go, Dad. Ready to bring us back some rusty gold."
His father then pulled out a debit card. "There's your expenses. Make sure you have at least a couple bills on you any time you stop."
"Got it, Dad."
Justin stepped out the door and walked over to the van — by himself for the first time. The hunt was on.
****
A chance encounter with a 70s Chevy pickup sporting deer antlers for a hood ornament and carrying a wrought-iron gate in the back had drawn Justin off the beaten path. His picking radar was spot on, because the truck led him to a yard filled with rusty classic cars and numerous outbuildings. The old man had happily showed off his collection for a couple of hours, though he was reluctant to sell.
His wife was a different story.
Justin broke the ice by buying a couple of 60s pinup calendars that the old man wasn't quite as attached to, and which his wife was more than happy to see go. They weren't the big score he was hoping for, but it was enough to get his foot in the door, and the old man seemed to be buckling under his wife's pressure. The place would be a good pick once that happened.
With the address and phone number sent to his father, along with a few pictures, Justin hit the road again.
Though the rough gravel road had looked promising at first, the prospects were thinning fast. Every lawn he passed seemed a little more manicured than the last. On the verge of turning around to hit a crossroad a few miles back, something caught his eye.
He slowed, homing in on the open barn door. Within, he could see a tarp covering a car. The tarp might have once been blue, but it was now thick with dust and faded with age.
Normally, he wouldn't have glanced twice at the place. The lawn looked positively suburban, despite outbuildings marking it as having been a farm at some point. The buildings appeared to be in good repair, and there was nothing out in the yard. Everything his father had ever taught him said that there was no reason to stop. Nevertheless, something was drawing him toward the property.
Above everything else, his father had taught him to trust his instincts. He turned into the drive.
There was a car parked in front of the house, and a curtain moved as he pulled up, indicating that someone was home. He grabbed a flyer and headed for the door, taking a closer look at the tarp-covered car along the way. He could see fins poking up in the back, which was promising.
Seeing no doorbell, he gave a knock, and the door opened almost immediately.
Damn,
Justin thought, his smile growing wider. The blonde who answered the door had an eye-popping rack, and she certainly knew how to show it off. The material of the half-shirt stretched across the impressive globes, and the deep neck exposed ample cleavage. Below, a charm dangled from her exposed midriff. Her tummy wasn't exactly flat, but she certainly wasn't chunky. Denim shorts hugged her hips, exposing long expanses of attractive leg. One of the few advantages of being suddenly single was that his conscience wasn't nibbling at him for admiring her.
As much as he was enjoying the show, Justin was on business. "Hey there. I noticed the car in the barn as I was going by, and thought I'd stop. My name's Justin, and I'm with Barn Owl Treasures." He handed over the flyer.
"Denise," she said as she took the paper and looked it over.
"I'm a picker, and that's the sort of things I'm looking to buy. Think you might have anything on that list?"
She chuckled. "Oh, just everything."
"That's what I love to hear — if you're interested in selling."
"Oh, I'm interested. Very interested."
So am I — and not just in what's in the barn.
Her voice reminded him of Demi Moore — deep and sultry.
"My dad passed away a while back, and I've been wondering what I was going to do with all the junk he collected over the years."
"Mind if I take a look around? Maybe I can take some of it off your hands."
"Do you want to look at the car?"
"Maybe, but if you have other stuff on the list, that's probably a better place to start."
She stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door closed. "The other barn, then. That's where dad kept most of his stuff."
"Lead the way."
It was all Justin could do to keep from staring at her ass. Her hips swayed, drawing his eyes to the sinuous movement. Unlike so many women, where it was obviously an act designed to attract attention, there was something natural — and incredibly sexy — about the way Denise moved.
The barn she led him to was farther back on the property, out where the weeds grew tall. The place was in good shape, but looked older than the barn near the house where he'd spotted the car. She removed a wooden bar and pulled open the huge double doors.
Justin was in picker heaven.
His initial scan revealed old bicycles, porcelain signs, metal toys — and that was just what was on top of the piles. There were boxes stacked everywhere, from one end of the barn to the other.
"Look around all you want. Everything's for sale."
Justin rubbed his hands together. "That's just what I like to hear."
Something odd-shaped hiding beneath a tarp had been nagging at him from the moment Denise had opened the door. "I've got to see what this is."
"I'm curious too. Let's see."
After removing a couple of bricks on the front corners, Justin peeled back the tarp and laughed. "Ah, okay. Now the shape makes sense."
Denise shook her head and chuckled as she beheld the examination table, complete with stirrups. "Wonderful. I have nightmares about those things already, and now there's one in the back barn."
"Probably 70s. Not much I could do with it right now, but it's in great shape. Could be worth something in a few years, or if I come across the right buyer. On the other hand..." He took a step to one side, picking up a VW emblem that had caught his eye on top of the very first stack of boxes inside the door.
"How much do you want for this?"
"I have no idea," she responded, and shrugged. "How about ten bucks?"
