Chapter 4Tarin was impressed by the number of antiques Boyce owned. There was art deco everywhere—glasses, crockery, art—it was like stepping back in time. Yet somehow it didn’t feel either over the top or out of place in the large house.
Smiling appreciatively, Tarin ran his fingers over a gold candlestick telephone set. “Does this work?” Looking across the room to where Boyce leaned by the blazing fire, Tarin couldn’t help but think how much at home the man appeared. The dark brown velvet suit he wore made him look almost edible.
“No.” Boyce smiled, and shook his head. “It used to but it’s not connected now. Are you ready to play?” Boyce indicated an ornate wooden table, and Tarin nodded. “Good. Then come over here.”
Tarin grinned in delight—the table’s top was carved and stained into
