“Hey, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be directing?” she asked.

“We gave the cast the day off,” Nina said as if it had been her idea.

“Oh good. Julie offered to help us after rehearsal,” April said. “That means she might come early.”

“Look at this!” Gretchen exclaimed, stunned by the wonderful collectibles spread out on a metal worktable. “Wow!”

“I’m going to do a walk-through,” Nina said. “My expertise is needed elsewhere.”

“Go and create,” April said.

April was thrilled to show Gretchen the display she was working on. She had almost completed a collection of Robert Tonner dolls-sixteen-inch Tyler Wentworth dolls with their ultramodern hair fashions and up-to-date casual wear. Fleece, peasant tops, jean jackets, accessories. Gretchen also admired a collection of Seventeen dolls by Ashton-Drake, wearing hip teenage fashions.

“But some of these are new dolls,” Gretchen said, dazzled but puzzled. “They aren’t old enough to be part of the original collection, are they?”

April smiled. “One of the ladies who is coming to our luncheon donated them after I solicited for a contribution. Can you believe it?”

Gretchen shook her head in wonder, feeling very emotional. The doll collectors of Phoenix were some of the most generous, loving people she had ever met. This collection went far beyond her wildest expectations. If this, Gretchen’s first room of dolls, could make her tear up, what else was in store for her?

“I’ve been so busy trying to shape the play and the players that I forgot about our actual cause, this museum.” Gretchen wiped away a tear of joy.

“And this is only the beginning.” April stood back from the display with a critical eye. “Wait until after the fundraiser, when we have more money. Eventually we’ll open the upstairs rooms, too.” She picked up one of the dolls from the table and smoothed the hair. “This is one of the original owner’s dolls. Remember Starr?”

How could Gretchen forget the teenager dolls? “And Starr’s friends, Tracy and Kelley,” she said.

April held up two more 1980s dolls. “We don’t have a Shaun doll, but I’m on the lookout. He’s my favorite. He was the guy everybody wanted to date.”

“He’s a doll, April,” Gretchen said, laughing. “Not a real guy.”

“Not like your hunk,” April said. “If Matt were a doll, he’d be Shaun. Hot, sexy, smart, fun.”

“He is all that.”

“Starr and her doll friends went to Springfield High,” April said. “They came with schoolbooks, tambourines for their band, yearbooks, and all the latest fashions from the eighties.”

“Those were the days,” Gretchen said. “Roller-skating, pep rallies, wholesome fun.”

April snorted. “Wholesome fun! We watched all those teenage slaughter movies. Remember those? Remember Friday the 13th with Adrienne King and Kevin Bacon? What a hunk that Kevin was. We’d be glued to the screen, chomping on popcorn, watching those poor camp counselor kids get chased around and killed by a psychopath.” She snorted again. “I wouldn’t exactly call it a wholesome time, but it sure was fun.”

“Where’s Enrico?” Gretchen asked.

April motioned to a Mexican tapestry purse hanging on the back of a chair. “Sleeping.”

“What are you-”

Gretchen’s next question was interrupted by a glass-shattering scream coming from above, someplace on the second floor of the massive house.

She knew that voice.

“Nina!” she shouted, rushing down the hall.

Another scream.

She reached the circular staircase and ran up them, taking them two at a time.

Nina screamed for the third time.

7

Gretchen reached the top of the stairs with her mother right behind her. They stopped at the landing and listened. Caroline, her breath ragged, grasped the dark wood banister on the landing for support.

“Are you okay?” Gretchen asked her mother, worried.

Caroline nodded. “I’ll be all right. Where do you think she is? Nina!”

There was no response.

“You go that way,” Gretchen said, pointing to a hall on the left before turning to the one to the right.

She listened to her mother’s footsteps on the tile floor, then heard her open a door and call out her sister’s name.

Gretchen did the same. As she approached the second room, she heard a tiny, muffled voice. “I’m in here.”

Gretchen followed Nina’s voice into a room that had been converted into a large storage closet. Every bit of space was filled with boxes of dolls that hadn’t been catalogued yet. Stacks and stacks of them with little room to enter.

“Where are you?”

“Here.”

“I found her,” Gretchen called loud enough for her mother to hear. Then she squeezed down a narrow aisle between the boxes until she found her aunt on the floor.

Nina was a sight to behold. All that was visible were two red high heels and bare calves sticking out from underneath a display case piled high with boxes. “Help,” Nina croaked, her voice muffled under the case.

“What are you doing down there?” Wasn’t this exactly in character for her aunt? Nina wasn’t happy unless she was the center of attention. What better way than to worm under a piece of furniture and start screaming.

Her aunt wiggled her legs, almost stabbing Gretchen with a spiky heel.

Caroline appeared in the doorway and accurately read Gretchen’s annoyed expression.

“Nina’s physically okay,” her mother called down the steps to April. “It’s her mental state we’re concerned with.” She squeezed into the room. “What was all the screaming about?”

“I’m stuck,” Nina cried. “Help me get out.”

Gretchen lifted and moved several boxes, stacking piles even higher to make more room to work. Nina’s heels continued to swing wildly. “Quit kicking or we’ll leave you to get out by yourself.” Her aunt lowered her feet.

Gretchen cleared enough space to get on one side of the case while Caroline got on the other. They tipped it back to release a discombobulated Nina. She was a mess. Mascara was smudged under her eyes, and her hair stood straight up, smashed into a Mohawk.

“How did you get under there in the first place?” Caroline said, holding on to her sister’s arm to steady her as she rose. “Why would you crawl under a display case? Look at your dress. It’s filthy.”

Nina acted like she didn’t hear them, focusing instead on the floor. “Tutu, darling, come to momma. Baby dolly, pooh bear, come, come.”

Whimpering came from behind another stack of boxes. Nina edged through and extracted the schnoodle, giving her a big bear hug. “I was so worried.”

“What is going on?” Caroline said. “You screamed like you were about to be murdered.”

“It was terrible,” Nina said, her lip quivering. “But it’s gone now.”

“What’s gone?” Gretchen scanned the room for poisonous critters. A black widow spider would have her leaping from the room, leaving the rest to fend for themselves.

Her aunt didn’t even hear her.

“Give me Tutu,” Caroline said, “before you drop her. And pull yourself together. You frightened us badly.”

“Give me a minute.”

While Caroline attempted to get an answer from Nina, Gretchen wandered the narrow pathways. A small wooden container about the size of a shoe box was propped open on top of one of the stacks.

“That’s it,” Nina said, pointing at the little box with a trembling finger. “It came out of there.”

Gretchen edged away. “What? A spider?”

“No,” Nina said. “Nothing like that.”

Cautiously, Gretchen made her way over and picked up the wooden container. “What a beautiful doll trunk!” Old-fashioned travel stickers were pasted on the trunk in random fashion. Flowered paper lined the inside of the trunk, and it had a tiny drawer on one side where accessories could be stored. “It’s old but in very good shape,” Gretchen said, bringing it back with her.