“Someone told me that Martha had owned a Kewpie like this one,” she said.

Gretchen thought she saw Joseph flinch.

“Who told you that?” Larry said from behind Gretchen.

“I don’t remember,” Gretchen said.

“Well,” Joseph said, “it wasn’t this Kewpie.”

Gretchen glanced at the price tag and handed the doll to Joseph. “I’ll think about it,” she said. “He’s beautiful.” Joseph locked the Kewpie in the cabinet and placed the key in his pocket.

“I’m still looking for my mother,” Gretchen said. “If you have any ideas where she might be, please let me know.”

“Sorry, Gretchen. I haven’t heard a thing.”

Walking out into the intense sun, Gretchen knew that Joseph had lied to her. He’d lied the first time she visited the shop when he claimed no knowledge of the disposition of Martha’s dolls, and he’d lied again today. Joseph was worth serious consideration as a suspect in Martha’s murder. Had he killed his aunt for her doll collection? Was that why he had become successful? By selling off Martha’s valuable dolls?

Nina pulled up to the curb with Daisy in the passenger seat wearing a purple sundress and a floppy red hat that covered her bandaged head. She rolled the window down and waved. “Look at me. I’m like a new person, real movie star material in this getup.”

“What are you doing here?” Gretchen said, bending down and peering at Nina.

“We got your message,” Nina said, not looking especially happy. “And we were shopping right down the street.”

“You came all the way to Mesa for your shopping spree? I thought you’d head in the other direction.” Gretchen grinned and turned to Larry. “Thanks for lunch. I’ll hitch a ride home with Nina.”

Larry blinked rapidly in the glare from the sun, continuing to stand on the sidewalk, apparently reluctant to return to his own shop and Julia’s battlefield tactics.

“I’ve got to go now,” Gretchen said.

“See you ladies later,” he said, walking slowly to his car.

“Get in the back,” Nina said to Gretchen, and she slid in with the dogs, accepting her punishment for forcing Daisy’s company on Nina.

Nina slung an arm over the back of the seat and stared solemnly at Gretchen. “You have the blackest aura surrounding you that I think I’ve ever seen around a human being. Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“If you aren’t feeling it yet, it must be a gathering force. The outlook is scaring me.”

Gretchen felt cold in spite of the heat and in spite of her personal opinion about Nina’s psychic experiences. None of her predictions had exactly panned out so far. If Nina were an oilfield geologist, they’d be drilling a multitude of expensive dry holes.

“I agree with you about Gretchen’s aura,” Daisy said to Nina as they pulled out. “And I see exactly what you mean. It’s a bad one.”

Nina looked over at Daisy and scowled.

“What if…” Gretchen said, scrubbing at the red paint crusted on the workshop floor with paint thinner and an old rag, “we’ve missed the meaning of the note found in Martha’s hand.”

“The one with Caroline’s name on it that said to put her away?” Nina leaned back against a stool and watched Gretchen clean up. Daisy, exhaustion etched across her face, had gone to the spare bedroom to try on her new outfits and rest. “By the way,” Nina said, “I decided to shop in Mesa, the opposite direction of the Rescue Mission, so I could tell Daisy that we didn’t have time to pick up her shopping cart, that we were too far away. She got so excited over the clothes that she didn’t even mention the cart.”

“The police assumed Martha left the note as an accusation,” Gretchen said, focused on her line of thought, concentrating so Nina wouldn’t distract her. “What if my mother was helping Martha? The note could have referred to putting away the French fashion doll. We know she had the doll because she wrote it in the note to Nacho. She said she had it but he had to hide the trunk because it was too large for her to hide easily. If she didn’t take it with her, where would she have hidden it?”

Nina hopped from the stool, excitement flushing her face. “I have a feeling about that. It’s getting stronger.” She cocked her head to the side as if listening to something beyond Gretchen’s range of sound and clapped her hands together. “The doll is close by, probably somewhere in the house.”

“Where in the house?”

“You’re expecting way too much detail,” Nina said, exasperated. “Isn’t it enough to know we’re on the right track? Let’s start looking.”

“The police searched the workshop thoroughly. It wouldn’t be in here.”

“Caroline’s bedroom then. Come on.”

Gretchen and Nina attacked the house with gusto, Nina driven by her need to prove that her psychic abilities were real. Gretchen’s personal belief was that her mother had the doll with her wherever she had gone, but Gretchen had run out of options. Searching the house kept her body in motion, made her feel as though she was moving forward instead of stagnating.

The search moved slowly, both women working together fluidly but without results. With one room left to search, Nina tapped gently at Daisy’s door. She opened it a crack when she didn’t receive a response. Daisy was sprawled across the bed, sound asleep.

They tiptoed in and searched the room without awakening Daisy. “She’s still recovering from the surgery,” Nina whispered. “I shouldn’t have kept her out as long as I did.”

Before they finished, Gretchen moved close enough to satisfy herself that Daisy was still breathing. She hadn’t moved since they started the search. Gretchen watched her chest rise softly.

After a thorough search of the last room in the house, they collapsed on the living room sofa with nothing to show for their efforts. The only consolation, Gretchen thought, is that Arizona homes don’t have basements or attics. Otherwise they’d be at it the rest of the day and all night with possibly the same discouraging news in the end.

Nothing. They had unearthed absolutely nothing.

Zip, nada, zilch, zero.

Nina pulled off her shoes and rubbed her feet. “I really thought I had it right this time.”

Gretchen scratched the part of her left hand protruding from the cast and assumed the intense itching inside the cast meant her wrist was healing. “Why are we bothering to look for it anyway? Nacho has confessed. My mother will come home eventually, and the police will drop the charges against her. It’s simple. There is no urgency anymore.”

“Ha,” Nina said, mockingly. “Your aura is still black. We have to continue what’s begun, and we have to understand it, or you’re in big trouble.”

“Okay, then,” Gretchen said to humor Nina. “Put on your shoes and follow me.”

The pool water glistened in the sun, reflecting patterns and images cast by the towering palms and exotic shrubbery. The only sound came from the hum of the air-conditioning unit as Gretchen padded along on her way to the cabana. The July sun sizzled on her skin, and she found herself struggling for breath in the hot, airless vacuum.

The water mesmerized Gretchen, reminding her of the recent trek through the flooded streets and the skill with which Nacho had concealed his home. She noted a chameleon lounging on the side of the adobe wall, its skin color fusing into its background, effectively hiding it from watchful predators.

She remembered again the Easter basket hunts of her youth. If Caroline had hidden a doll somewhere in her home, no one would be able to find it.

No one except her daughter, who had played this arcane game with enthusiasm and appreciation.

The silence and emptiness of the cabana weighed on Gretchen. One section of the room she’d been so fond of now resembled a storage unit, filled with her mother’s boxes of sale dolls. The room brought back memories of her past visits. She longed to return to one of those times, to pretend her mother was busy in her workshop, humming while restringing an old doll after giving it a renewing bath. She imagined her mother putting away the doll repairing tools and seeking out Gretchen, conversations filled with love and caring and companionship.