Dolly Departed Part 9

"They don't," Caroline said. "Each box is unique. The differences in time periods and social settings will make putting them together easy."

Britt still fidgeted with her hair. "Bernard made the room boxes."

Gretchen glanced up at the shelves lining the upper part of the wall. Bernard's dollhouses. And the Victorian he had mentioned. She stepped closer.

When Bernard had said he'd designed a Victorian, Gretchen had a.s.sumed it would be an English Victorian with dormer windows and window boxes filled with petunias and ivy. Her second guess would have been a Victorian farmhouse with a wraparound porch. Instead, she faced an enormous three-foot-high French Victorian with two sloped roofs, wrought-iron balconies, and molded cornices. The steep vertical slopes to the roofs and the heavy faux stonework gave it a sinister undertone.

April came up beside Gretchen. "It looks like a haunted house," she said.

"It sure isn't a painted lady," Gretchen agreed. "No vibrant colors and trendy painted trim work on this Victorian."

"It won an award," April pointed out, reading from a mounted plaque next to the dollhouse. "Designed and built by Bernard Waites. Kind of scary-looking, but the details are amazing."

"Bernard looks like a cuddly teddy bear," Britt called from the other side of the room, "but he has a dark side."

"What do you mean?" Gretchen asked.

"Bernard is always in the background like he's waiting for an opportunity to seize control," Britt said. "He's been hanging around Charlie ever since she retired last year."

"It looks like he contributed quite a lot to the shop."

Gretchen selected a miniature blue velvet hat from one of the piles.

"He built the dollhouses mounted on the walls. But what about everything else you see?" Britt grabbed a container. She had a firm set to her jaw. Determination. Gretchen recognized the box as one that Britt had been packing up when they had met at the shop. She'd forgotten all about it.

Britt opened it up. "Come over here. Feast your eyes onmy contribution, and then tell me if you think that old man has done the most work."

All four women leaned in.

The box was filled with the smallest miniature dolls Gretchen had ever seen. Britt picked one up with the tips of two fingers and held it out for everyone to admire.

"A s.h.i.+rley Temple doll," April said, excited. "It can't be over a half inch tall."

"Not a bit of detail was sacrificed," Britt bragged. "The mouth, the eyes, the fingers--all as perfect as the original doll."

Nina reached out with a jeweled forefinger and touched the s.h.i.+rley Temple doll's blonde, curly locks. They all leaned in again and peered into the box. Dozens and dozens of exquisite, dainty, mini-miniatures were lined up in padded rows. Tiny beds of bubble wrap cus.h.i.+oned them from breakage.

"You can't imagine the work that went into these," Britt said. "Now I'll have to find another miniature shop to sell my creations."

Gretchen looked over at the room boxes. "Did you make any of the dolls for Charlie's special project? For these room boxes?"

"Charlie asked me to make some for her." Britt's face brimmed with self-pride. "And I obliged. She had very specific instructions on what she wanted. A clergyman sculpted at a precise height, a married couple for the Victorian era. She said she wanted to dress them herself, so I dropped them off here the day before when we had dinner together, before she . . ." Britt's composure slipped, and she worked to restore it.

"Where are the room box dolls?" Gretchen hadn't seen any miniature people other than those with price tags in some of the other display cases.

"She must have them in the back room. Maybe she didn't have time to arrange them before she died."

"They were part of the display then?"

"Apparently," Britt said.

"You don't know for sure?" Gretchen watched Britt fuss with her French twist.

"Of course, I know. Don't be silly. We were best friends."

Britt's nervous fingers played over her bangs.

* 11 *

Matt appeared on the sidewalk outside of Mini Maize but refused to enter the doll shop. "I'm taking Gretchen to lunch," he said, doll phobia sweat s.h.i.+ny on his forehead. April t.i.ttered. Nina and Caroline looked on expectantly. Gretchen swung outside before her aunt had time to push her out.

"I thought you were in therapy," she said, as they walked down the street.

His humor came back as soon as they left the storefront.

"I am. Can't you tell?"

How could she be interested in a man who was afraid of her life's work?

They found a restaurant with an outdoor courtyard and sat down at a small, round table. A waiter took their orders--tortilla soup for Gretchen, who was watching her weight since her morning resolve to become a hot Arizona babe, and enchiladas for Matt.

Gretchen kept one eye peeled to the street and sidewalk. But chances were that the wacko wife wouldn't appear and cause trouble now. She'd wait in the background until he was gone.

With the doll club members' pa.s.sion for gossip, her altercation with Kayla wouldn't stay a secret for long, unless April was more dependable than Gretchen when it came to confidences.

"What are you looking for?" Matt asked, following Gretchen's gaze down the street.

"Nothing," she answered. "Can I ask a personal question?"

"You're interested in my personal life?" He had laugh crinkles around his eyes. "I bet it's because I've put extra effort into my grooming today. I've showered, brushed my teeth with extra whitening toothpaste, and I used a manly scented deodorant called Wild Beast. Just for you."

That s.e.xy grin. Gretchen hid her amus.e.m.e.nt.

The waiter brought tortilla chips and salsa.

"Why isn't your divorce final yet?" Gretchen picked up a chip and broke it in half. "I don't have much experience with the process, but friends of mine have gone through them in much less time."

"Ah, I see you're getting impatient?"

"Please tell me."

"Kayla has pulled every trick in the book." No smile now.

"Several appearances have been rescheduled at the last minute, she's changed attorneys three times, she's appealed to the court for more time due to one problem after another, it goes on and on. Sometimes I think I'll never be free."

"What about Detective Kline? Is he single?"

Matt gaped at her. "You don't waste time, do you?"

Gretchen laughed. A jealous streak? This was interesting.

"I'm inquiring for my aunt. That did did sound terrible, though." sound terrible, though."

"He's single. And looking for a serious relations.h.i.+p. So now I have a question for you."

"Okay."

"Why were you at the shop today? After what I told you last night, I had hoped you would reconsider and stay home."

"Hoped? You ordered me away."

"Order seems a little strong. I gently suggested it."

"Gently suggested it?" Men really were impossible to deal with.

"You're right. I don't want you anywhere near Charlie Maize's shop. But since you refuse to listen, please tell me that you're almost done."

"We're sorting through the pieces, deciding which room box each of them goes into. It wouldn't take long if my mother and I were the only ones working on it. Instead, the shop is filled with small animals and several people who are in the way more than they are helping."

"Well, there's more safety in numbers. Keep it that way. All I'm asking is that you remain alert."

"You're making too much of it."

"That's my job. To expect the worst."

The food came, temporarily distracting them.

"Anyway," Gretchen said between mouthfuls, "none of us knows what the room boxes represent. Based on the detail pieces that go into them, they're all from different time periods. There doesn't seem to be a common theme."

"Are you trying to read too much into them? I heard that Charlie was a bit odd toward the end. It might just be a hodgepodge."

Gretchen remembered the miniature street signs. She had shoved them into her purse, thinking she would ask around or check a phone directory later. Now she drew them out.

"We found these on the floor. I was meaning to ask mom if she recognized any of them, but then I became distracted." By him! By him!

She handed over the tiny green street signs. "At least the signs are all the same, green with yellow lettering. They're the only things in the group that are consistent."

"Twenty-nine Hanbury Street." Matt read each one aloud.

"De Russey's Lane, Seventeen seventeen Elm Street, Number Ninety-two Second Street. Four room boxes?" His eyes pierced hers. "Each with a street sign?"

"Five room boxes, actually. But we aren't sure the fifth one is part of the display."

Matt handed the tiny signs back. "I know every corner of this city. None of those addresses are familiar to me."

"Any suspects yet?"

"We're working on it. n.o.body claims to have seen Charlie on Sat.u.r.day morning. Britt Gleeland had dinner with her the night before and saw nothing unusual in Charlie's manner. Britt's daughter went by the shop to drop off some miniature flower arrangements, but it was locked up. She looked through the window and saw nothing unusual."

Gretchen watched Matt carefully. She saw concern etched on his face.

"Wrap it up soon," she said.

"That's the plan."

"I could hardly wait for the two gigglers to leave," April said from a stool at the Mini Maize checkout counter.

"They went out for a late lunch, and I don't expect them back anytime soon."

Gretchen released Nimrod from her purse, and he trotted off, sniffing around the edges of Charlie's display cabinets.

"What a pair," Caroline said from a seat at a card table that Gretchen had set up after finding it folded in the corner of the storage room. Piles of room box furnis.h.i.+ngs covered the square table.

Nina's friends.h.i.+p with Britt Gleeland certainly had come on fast and furious. Gretchen hoped her aunt wouldn't share any confidential information with Britt. She regrettedopening her own big mouth. Now the secret about Charlie's poisoning threatened to spread like valley fever. The two sisters had both died in agony. It gave Gretchen the creeps just thinking about what they went through. She was glad that April and her mother were still at the shop to keep her company.

"April and I decided to take pictures of the room boxes," Caroline said. "Before and after photographs."

"But neither of us can figure out how to use the camera part of our phones." April chuckled. "You're the only one of us that isn't technology challenged."

Gretchen pulled her cell phone from her purse. "Smile."

She took April's picture, then showed it to her friend. April sighed. "I've lost five pounds, but you'd never know it. I have another hundred to go."

"One day at a time. Smile, Mom."

Caroline turned away from the camera's eye. "Not me!

The room boxes."

Gretchen took pictures of the empty room boxes. After each snapshot, she checked it for clarity on the small phone screen.

"Joseph Reiner stopped by while you were gone," April said, wiping grime and footprints from a little mahogany bed frame. "He was extremely upset by Charlie's death. He broke down and cried twice in the short time he was here."

"I'm sorry I missed him." Gretchen had lost a convenient opportunity to ask the Joseph's Dream Doll shop owner about his presence at the parade. She still wondered why he hadn't been at Charlie's doll shop with the rest of the invitees.

"I have the room box pieces separated as best I could,"

Caroline said. "It wasn't as hard as we originally thought itwould be. The different time periods helped. But I still have a small pile of unknowns."

On one corner of the card table, Caroline had placed Victorian pieces. Gretchen studied the grouping, gently touching the fabrics. A miniature mohair sofa, wooden bedstead, mirrored dressing table, a woolen floral rug. And all the articles that would complete a setting from the late 1900s.