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finally had access to the marvelous Spanish Colonial Revival with its complex blend of Mexican and Spanish influences. The house was structurally sound, but needed a thorough cleaning after years of standing empty. And cataloging and organizing the displays would take more time than they originally had thought. Her mother had been working long hours at the new museum for the last few days. No one was in the workshop.
    Two weeks and life will return to normal, she reminded herself.
    “We have several hundred guests registered for the luncheon and the theater presentation.” Nina sat down beside her. “And more ticket requests coming in every day.”
    “Good work. Our dream is coming true.”
    Nina gave her a doubtful look. “At first I thought it was wonderful that the club had been offered the opportunity to renovate the house and open it as a doll museum, but my radar is telling me that something is wrong. Your last tarot reading isn’t reassuring me either.”
    The cast began wandering back into the banquet hall dressed in their street clothes, their purses slung over their shoulders. “We had a meeting in the break room,” Bonnie said. “We’re on strike.”
    “I didn’t get a vote,” Nina said.
    “You’re the reason we’re striking,” Bonnie said to Nina.
    “It’s been stressful,” Julie said, lagging behind the rebellion. “We’ve been working hard. Let’s take the rest of the day off to rejuvenate and try again tomorrow.”
    The other members of the play didn’t look as though they agreed with Julie.
    As the cast filed out, all Gretchen could do was hope they’d come back.
    Nina came out of the break room with two cups of coffee. “After what you went through last night, you should be the one taking the day off. How awful for that poor woman.”
    They sat down in upholstered chairs on the stage.
    “Right now I’m extremely worried about Nacho and Daisy,” Gretchen said. “Why didn’t Daisy signal to me when I was at the cemetery?”
    “How did they ever manage before they met you?”
    The two homeless people had been a source of frustration for Gretchen ever since she’d met and become friends with them, shortly after her move to Arizona. She wanted to help them, but she assumed that meant they had to change. She was learning fast that her method wasn’t working.
    Still, she didn’t want to give up.
    “I called the police station without finding out anything. Daisy isn’t answering her cell. I don’t want to bother Matt until later. I’m sure he worked through the night.”
    “Nacho and Daisy will be fine. It’s this project and your safety that I’m worried about. Everything’s off-kilter. Auras are wrong. Everything.”
    Her aunt was unlike most people, but her views weren’t without merit. She saw life through a different colored lens, and though she didn’t like to admit it, Gretchen understood much of Nina’s madness.
    “If I’d had a vote,” her aunt continued, “I would have voted no to taking this on.”
    “Why?” For someone on the opposing side, Nina had certainly waded in to take over control of the play.
    “We don’t know anything about the owner. Caroline went down and looked at the deed. It’s titled to something called The Smart Investment Trust. That doesn’t tell us anything.”
    The arrangement was unusual, but also a good deal for the club. According to the terms of the agreement with the house’s owner, the club would have several fundraisers to help with refurbishing and operating costs, and they would convert the home into a museum. In return, the owner would allow them to remodel as they wished and then use any revenues generated to keep the museum open and running.
    Nina scowled. “That wormy little attorney who is representing the owner, what’s his name?”
    “Dean McNalty.”
    “Him. There’s not one good reason why he can’t tell us who owns the house. I’d like to get answers out of him even if it means wringing his scrawny