Minerva set the heavy tray on the table with a thump. A puff of white dust blossomed upward and made her sneeze. These old fishing weights certainly were dusty. She sneezed again. 

Somedays she really hated her predecessors. Whoever had thought it was a good idea to just throw these weights in a box without any kind of protection and stuff them up in the attic, was really making Minerva’s life difficult. 

She started pulling weights out of the box, white powder coating her fingertips. Some of them had numbers, but most seemed to be unmarked. Well, bugger. Hopefully the genius who put them in the box at least catalogued them.  

Minerva wiped her hands on her slacks and went over to the card catalog behind her desk. She pulled out the cards for “Fishing” and sat down to flip through them. As she sat down, her computer screen popped to life and indicated new email. She set down the cards and clicked on her inbox.  

After answering two research queries and one “What happened to the box of photo albums by the front desk?” email, Minerva grabbed two ibuprofen and washed them down with energy drink. She unwrapped a sticky nut bar and slowly ate it while checking other internet things on her computer. 

Minerva picked up the index cards and flipped through them scanning for the word “weight”. on “Fishing p.3” she found a listing for “144 Lead Fishing Weights from Todd Sanders estate.” She looked down at the powdery film still coating the backs of her fingers.  

“Damn it.” 

She googled “Poison Control Hotline” and started dialing.