A Guarded Decree: The Lost Trinkets Series, #5

By Sherrie Lea Morgan

Don't go digging in a graveyard. You could unearth more than just secrets…
 
     When Shannon accidentally drops the Lost Trinkets box, she finds a hidden compartment containing a carved ivory pipe. She tries to let her psychometric gift find its rightful owner, but the pipe is oddly silent.
     Tapping reluctantly into Petrie's Crossing gossip mill, Shannon finds a confusing tangle of old grudges, feuding families, and an endangered graveyard.
     If there's one thing Shannon knows for sure, you never mess with the resting dead. But to make sense of this mystery, she'll have to reveal a few secrets of her own…and risk losing everything she's come to love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Village Publishing
• Release date: May 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9781949256000

Sherrie Lea Morgan

Sherrie Lea Morgan is an active member of Romance Writers of America, her local chapter Georgia Romance Writers, Paranormal Romance Guild. She lives north of Atlanta, GA with her twin sister, two dogs and two cats. When not working her current manuscripts, she enjoys spending time with her family. Visit her at: www.sherrieleamorgan.com; www.facebook.com/sherrielea ; Sherrie Lea Morgan (@slmorganwrit) | Twitter

Book preview

a guarded decree

Lost Trinket Series Book Five

Sherrie Lea Morgan

Village Publishing

ACWORTH, GEORGIA

Copyright © 2019 by Sherrie Lea Morgan

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Sherrie Lea Morgan/Village Publishing

PO Box 2519

Acworth, Georgia/USA 30102

www.sherrieleamorgan.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

Book Layout © 2017 BookDesignTemplates.com

a guarded decree/The Lost Trinkets Series Book Five/Sherrie Lea Morgan. – 1st ed.

Editor: Sara Miller

Cover for this book done by Yocla Designs

This book is dedicated to my own favorite sailor, my dad. Thank you, Dad, for helping me with maritime terminology and always reading my books. Captain Don salutes you, as do I. Love you always.

Glossary

psychometry (sīˈkämətrē) noun

1. the ability to discover facts about an event or person by touching inanimate objects associated with them.

manifestation (manəˌfesˈtāSH(ə)n) noun

d: an occult phenomenon; specifically: materialization

Medium (mēdēəm)

1. A person claiming to be in contact with the spirits of the dead and to communicate between the dead and the living.

psy·chic (/ˈsīkik/) noun

1. A person considered or claiming to

have psychic powers; a medium.

ghost (gōst) noun

1. The soul of a dead person believed to be an inhabitant of the unseen world or to appear to the living in bodily likeness.

contents

Glossary

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Chapter One

The box of trinkets slipped from my fingers and dropped to the floor in my office with a loud crack. I gasped and bent over, wrapped my glove covered hands around the edges of the box, slipped a few fingers underneath to lift it. Please don’t be broken. Setting it on the desk, I carefully checked around the exterior, and found no cracks or breaks. My breath whooshed out. Thank goodness. Raising the lid, I noticed the bottom was tilted at an awkward angle and frowned. A false bottom in something this small? Lifting out the bag of items, I set it aside and gently pried the bottom up, and then gaped at what rested within. There, under the thin piece of wood, nestled in green velvet sat a pipe. What on earth?

Why would a pipe be hidden here? Holding it under the bright desk lamp, I studied the piece and realized it looked like ivory with its soft smooth finish. The slight staining on top with darker areas underneath confirmed it wasn’t new. Well, time to test it. Digging out a needle, I flicked the lighter and held the flame to the edge until it turned red hot. Rolling the pipe and finding a spot near the back, I touched the needle to it. Okay, a mark means it’s not real ivory.  Then what? I peered closer to the underside and noted a stamped date. Seventeen something. Shoot. A chip took the last two numbers. The face carved on the front flickered like a memory in my mind which was harder to grab onto than a wisp of smoke. Where have I seen this before? Drat. What kind of pipe is this? Replacing it on the desk, I completed a quick search on the computer. White carved pipe made around the 1700’s popped up many images, the most common were Meerschaum pipes. Ah, okay.

Ivory pipe? Steph asked as her misty white form floated beside me.

Nope, I glanced up from the screen. Meerschaum.

What?

A stone found in the sea and carved to make the bowl of the pipe. Popular before clay pipes came out.

Who does it belong to?

No clue, I said.

You going to work on that next or pick a different item from your box of trinkets to return? She asked.

This is too interesting to pass up and it came from the box. I’ll try a vision and we’ll see where we end up from there.

Go on, I’ll wait, she said.

After lighting the incense, candles and turning on the music, I settled in and removed my gloves. Lifting the pipe, I closed my lids, blanked my mind and waited.

Batten down the hatches, mates! We’re in for a fierce one now.

Then nothing but darkness. Still. I opened my lids.

Well? Stephanie asked.

I giggled, then grinned. You’re not going to believe this one.

Chapter Two

Four whole days of overcast skies had me making preparations for winter, and of course, the sun had to choose the day I worked in the window display, to pop through the clouds and blind me. I turned my head and blinked several times. Bright spots dotted my vision for a few seconds until finally receding, allowing me see once again. I kept my face averted while I reached and felt my way to the top hook of the window. In seconds, I hung the last bit of tattered, dusty lace valance. I scooted sideways and smoothed the faded floral rug across the floor with my sock covered foot. I folded my legs under me, rose to a kneeling position and lifted the small painting of a dilapidated farmhouse onto the nail I'd put in with the curtain rods, then carefully hopped out of one of the two large bay windows which graced the front of Trinkets. I peered out the clean glass across the street toward Calabretti's Diner, searching for a certain tall sexy man with wavy black hair. Nothing. The front sidewalk covered seating area contained only a few locals eating a late breakfast. At least Halloween appeared not be a tourist attraction here like all the other holiday’s the Mayor preened on about whenever he visited. Memories of having to prepare a float during the Memorial Day parade when I’d only been living here less than a month flashed through my mind. Petrie Crossing celebrations continued to baffle me.

Ready? Maggie asked, twisting and clipping her long red hair for the hundredth time.

Yep, I grabbed the front of the antique rocking chair, waited for her to grab the back and together we placed it on the small carpet I'd straightened. The sun appeared to win its battle against the soupy clouds shooting bright rays through; the natural light highlighted the small marred surface of the chair. I glanced at Maggie, whose bright green eyes seem to sparkle with excitement. We both stepped back and admired our handiwork. The bay window's decor gave the impression of a small abandoned sitting room.

It's perfect, she nudged me with her elbow.

I grinned wide. It's great, I shot her a wide look, what if we add a cat?

A cat? She asked studying the display with an appraising expression on her face. A stuffed one would look corny. Too bad we can’t get Harmony to hang out up there or have a real ghost sit there. That'd be the perfect Halloween scene, then.

Listen, between forced participation in the Memorial Day parade and Labor Day clean up contest, I'm simply thrilled to only have to decorate for this holiday, I shuddered. I'm afraid to even consider what this town is going to expect from me for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Maggie chuckled and patted my shoulder. She held up a finger, I got an idea, one second. She rushed away toward the housewares.

I like her idea. I can sit here at night and rock the chair for you, Stephanie's ghostly form nudged the rocker. I scanned the area around the display to be sure Maggie wouldn't appear suddenly, unlike my twin's ghost.

Steph, be careful or we'll get caught, I whispered.

She can't hear me, only you. She floated out of the chair and over next to me. So, you might want to stop talking out loud before they bring you the white coat with the flashy buckles.

Here we go, Maggie announced.

I spun around watching her carry a small thin tea table in one hand and a box in the other. I grabbed the box while she placed the table next to the chair. She opened the box, lifting out a small tea cup setting, a doily and a pair of wire rimmed glasses. She placed these on the table, then stood back next to me. I studied