Gretchen said, picking up the room box in her arms and turning it so April and Nina could see it. A wooden structure towered behind a high wooden fence, Charlie's brushstrokes barely visible. The base of the room box was painted brown with small worn tufts of grass jutting along the sides of the fence. 'Not real blood, of course, but I'm sure that's what it's meant to be.'
'A courtyard?' April said. 'Covered with blood?'
'Some courtyard,' Nina said. 'It looks slummy to me.'
Caroline joined them and studied the box. 'Well, I think it's a backyard.'
'Here's a street sign,' April said, shuffling through a pile of items. The little green street sign mounted on a green post reminded Gretchen of a signpost from the Department 56 Dickens Village that she and her mother assembled every Christmas.
'Hanbury Street,' Gretchen read.
Caroline placed the room box on the counter. She squinted to read the small numbers that Charlie had painted on the street sign. 'Twenty-nine Hanbury Street.'
Gretchen searched through the growing pile of miniature furniture and accents on the counter. 'I saw a bloody miniature axe on the floor right after we found Charlie. I wonder where it went.'
'What?' Nina said. 'An axe?'
It wasn't on the counter. Gretchen bent down, peering around the area where she had seen the axe when she had left the shop. An object had been shoved under a display case. She knelt down and pulled it out. 'Here it is.'
'One item now in its proper home,' Nina said, taking the tiny axe and placing it next to the painted blood in the backyard scene.
'Creepy,' April said. 'Why would Charlie create a gruesome room box? There's nothing cute about the background scenery, nothing charming about an ax with red paint all over the blade. What was wrong with her?'
'It's probably my fault.' Caroline leaned against the counter, removed her sunglasses, and rubbed teary eyes.
'Charlie was totally obsessed with Sara's death. She talked about it incessantly. I suggested she instead focus on creating some room boxes, to give her something to do besides grieve for her sister. I never imagined this.'
'The other room boxes are fine,' Gretchen said. 'One is set in a meadow with a church in the background. And this one. .' Gretchen lifted another room box.'. . is a Victorian dressing room or something like that. Maybe Charlie had a bad week or two and decided to express herself in a more base way with the axe scene.'
Nina picked up the last room box. 'This one looks unfinished,' she announced. 'It can't be part of the same grouping. But, no blood.'
The room box Nina held was shabby next to the others, like it had been constructed hastily. The sides didn't fit together properly, and the walls were bare except for an uneven piece of full-sized wallpaper glued to the back of it and a rough sketch that resembled a sink.
'Am I doing the right thing,' Caroline said, 'by insisting that we restore Charlie's last project?'
'Absolutely,' Gretchen said, realizing her mother needed to do this.
'We're wasting time standing around hypothesizing,'
April said. 'Each of us needs to go to a corner of the shop and work outward. Let's gather every single item before we start guessing what Charlie had in mind.'
The team paused for a lunch of submarine sandwiches, which April insisted was the answer to her years of obesity. She remained convinced that her new diet plan would transform her into a sexy, curvy shell of her present self. Nina refused to cooperate, stomping down the street in search of 'real food.' She returned with a salad.
'Detective Albright should be back soon,' April said, munching on a foot-long sandwich while she looked out the window.
'Fat chance,' Gretchen replied.
'I completely understand his phobia.' April placed a few tiny articles of doll clothing into one of the bins. 'I have my own fears, you know.'
'We know,' Nina said with a hint of distaste. 'Clowns.'
'Half the world's population is afraid of clowns,' April said, defending herself. 'And you know it.'
'Yes,' Nina agreed. 'The half that's under four years old.'
Gretchen couldn't believe what she was hearing. It wasn't like Nina to be so spiteful. 'Isn't it potty time for the dogs?' Gretchen said to break up the next round of pointed barbs before one of them was fatally stabbed. Nina checked her watch, then stuffed the pups in carrying totes. She slung Enrico over one shoulder and Nimrod over the other, ignoring Enrico's throaty growl. She clipped the pink leash to Tutu's collar and disappeared down the street.
'What's with her?' Caroline said. 'I've never seen her behave like that before.'
'I'm not sure what her problem is. April, just ignore it, if you can.' Gretchen sat down, removed her flip-flops, and wiggled her feet.
'I'm going for a walk,' Caroline said. 'Maybe it will perk me up.'
Gretchen watched her classy mom walk down the street in the same direction her aunt had chosen and wished she had inherited more of her features. Beautiful shoulderlength silver hair, delicate nose, green thoughtful eyes, and a slim body, even at twenty-six years older than Gretchen.
'I found something interesting,' April said, digging in her pocket. 'I thought I'd wait until we were alone to show you.'
She held up a miniature dagger. The tip had been dipped in red paint.
'Terrific. Another piece for the backyard scene.'
'And. .,' April paused. 'There's a smudge of red on the floor of the Victorian bedroom, but I'll try to clean it off if you think it will upset Caroline.'
'Let's leave everything as it is for the moment,'
Gretchen answered. 'You don't seem upset by all these flashes of blood.'
'Blood doesn't scare me.'
'But clowns do?'
April nodded. 'If I even see a clown in the distance, I get all sweaty and dizzy, and I worry that I'll pass out. It's a horrible feeling. I know it's irrational, but I can't control how I feel.'
'I think you have to work through it,' Gretchen said, sorting through some of the tiny pieces of furniture.
'Maybe it would help if you exposed yourself to your fears more often, like Matt's trying to do.' She didn't mention what a bad job the detective was doing.
'I've tried that, but clowns are
Gretchen thought it over. Actually, she hadn't.
'See?' April said, reading the expression on her face.
'I ran into a clown yesterday at Parada del Sol,'
Gretchen said, remembering the green-haired clown and her fall to the sidewalk. He hadn't bothered to help Gretchen up.
April grimaced. 'That's exactly why I didn't go to the Scottsdale parade. Clowns are my absolute worst nightmare.'
April looked around as though they might be overheard.
'That's not all I'm afraid of, but don't tell Nina. Promise?'
'Promise.' Gretchen felt childish.
'Ventriloquists scare me to death, too. And sometimes in the dark, I'm afraid that something is lurking under my bed.'
'I used to think something scary was under my bed,'
Gretchen said, remembering how afraid she was, almost paralyzed with fear. But that was when she was a kid. She headed for the back room to search for boxes to separate and temporarily store the pieces, once they determined where each of them went. Gretchen rummaged through several small boxes, removing their contents and stacking the items neatly on a shelving unit. When she came back into the shop, she spotted something behind
