Dolly Departed - By Deb Baker Page 0,12

that hunky detective still outside?" April said, waving at Matt from inside Mini Maize. "I thought he was over his doll problem."

"Apparently not," Nina said, roaming through the shop and picking up one item after another. She glanced at the floor. "What a mess. This place looks like Gretchen's workshop."

Gretchen slid Nina a look before finding several empty containers in the back room and distributing them to her crew. She picked up a five-inch porcelain ballerina doll from the countertop, encircled it with bubble wrap, and put it inside one of the containers. "Help me pack these up," she said to the two women. "He won't come into the shop until the dolls are out of sight."

"Why didn't you say so earlier?" April said, rushing to help. "Let's not keep him waiting any longer than we have to."

Enrico watched slyly from his purse hanging on a doorknob, waiting for just the right opportunity to escape. Nina held up a finger in warning as if she could read his thoughts.

"Stay," she said in her dog-training, authoritarian voice. Then she turned to Gretchen. "You don't really think you can put away the entire room of dolls, do you?" she said.

"Just these on the counter and nearest the door."

April was really moving.

"Okay," Gretchen called out the door a few minutes later. "Coast is clear. Just don't look inside the display cases around the counter. I don't have time to put away every one of them. After all, this is a doll shop."

Matt's head popped around the corner, his even tan a few shades lighter. He had a cheesy grin on his face. "I've been called away," he stammered. "I'll check back later and see how it's going."

Gretchen watched him scramble for his unmarked car.

"Coward," she muttered under her breath.

April was on her hands and knees, examining miniature furniture pieces. Nina, casting around for something to do other than actual physical labor, chose to entertain the canines with a walk around the block. She came back with new and improved managerial skills.

"April," she said, "You need to sort the pieces and do groupings based on the type of furnishings."

"I know that."

"Gretchen," Nina said, "where are the mini dolls that go into the room boxes?"

"Haven't found any yet."

"April--" Nina began.

"Stop," April said, raising her arm to Nina, palm out like a cop stopping traffic. "You don't have to manage me. I'm capable of handling this without supervision."

"Some sort of order would help. And we know Gretchen can't do it."

A direct shot at Gretchen's lack of organization skills. Wait until Nina found out that Gretchen had locked her keys in her car. She'd discovered the lockout when she tried to get in to retrieve her toolbox. Peering through the tinted window, she had seen her keys hanging in the ignition. If there was any way of keeping Gretchen's mistake from her aunt, she'd try it. At least they had all arrived in separate cars. She'd call for help later.

"Why don't you take the dogs for another walk?" April suggested to Nina from the floor.

"I just got back. Why would I . . . Wait a minute . . . Is that sarcasm I hear in your voice?"

"If you can't find anything to do, go outside and practice your hocus-pocus," April retorted. "Why stick around if you aren't going to help?"

"I'm giving valuable advice."

"Will you two quit crabbing at each other?" Gretchen said, taking Nina by the arm and leading her to the counter.

"See all these accessories and accents?"

Nina looked at the things Gretchen had scooped from the floor: tiny lamps, pictures, and knickknacks.

"You're our interior decorator," Gretchen said. "Your job is to help figure out which ones go together in the same room boxes."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"We're partners, remember? Your skill, you said, was in decorating and deciding where all the pieces should go."

"I don't remember saying that."

"I recall it as though it just sprang from your perky lips."

"I thought I'd take care of the dogs while you worked."

Gretchen frowned at her aunt. Why did Nina offer to come if she wasn't going to pitch in? Ah . . . she got it. Gretchen's cunning, calculating aunt didn't want her spending time alone with April. Gretchen had to find a way to stop this childish rivalry. "See what you can do," she said, leaving Nina alone at the counter.

"There are some creepy miniatures scatter--" April began to say.

"Here comes Caroline," Nina announced, cutting her off. Gretchen's mother walked in wearing sunglasses. When she