Dolled Up for Murder Read Online Free PDF

twenty paces,” Nina said, following April.
    Gretchen knew that swindlers roamed the doll world waiting to dupe unsuspecting beginners. A good appraiser could tell an original by the number of eyelashes or the slant of an eyebrow or a marking in just the right spot. April and her kind were the backbone of the doll collecting community.
    “What ya got here?” April adjusted her reading glasses and bent over the table to study the doll shawl. “My, my. Where’d you find this?”
    “Hiking on the mountain. I found it in the rocks.”
    April peered at her over the top of her glasses. “You don’t say.”
    Then she went to work. The silence beat across the room while they waited for a verdict. Gretchen continued to stroke Rosebud, who snuggled closer and closed her eyes. After a few minutes, Nina began drumming her fingers on the table. April gave her a stern look, and Nina crossed her arms to still her impatient fingers.
    Gretchen gently returned Rosebud to the purse, where she curled contently into a tiny ball.
    Finally, April sat back, moved her reading glasses from the end of her nose to the top of her head, and sighed with pleasure.
    “It’s a wonderful example of a mid-eighteenth-century French fashion doll accessory,” she said. “No question about it.”
    “I’m assuming it fell from the ridge with Martha,” Gretchen said. “Is that a safe assumption?”
    April nodded.
    “My exact thought,” Nina agreed.
    “Bonnie’s son, that police officer,” April said. “What’s his name? Matt? He asked me to appraise the parasol they found in Martha’s pocket. Same historical period, same size. From the same doll, I’d be willing to bet.”
    Gretchen held out the photograph she saved for last. “I found this at the same time.”
    April whistled when she saw the picture.
    “The tray is removable, and her trousseau is stored under it,” April said, running her finger over the image of the trunk with something approaching reverence. “See how the tray is lined with striped fabric? Wow.”
    “I’m pretty sure the doll is a Bru,” Gretchen said.
    April nodded. “A classic smiley Bru. She’s worth a ton of money.”
    “How much?” Nina asked.
    April thought for a moment. “I wouldn’t want to venture a guess without examining the doll,” she said. “What I can say with surety is that the doll is about seventeen inches high. I can base that estimate on the size of the shawl. The trunk would be about twenty inches long and fifteen inches high.”
    “That’s a large trunk,” Nina said, reminding Gretchen how little Nina knew about dolls.
    “Most fashion dolls were designed to fit right inside the trunks like this one does.”
    “Why would Martha have an antique doll shawl and a photograph of a priceless Bru with her?” Gretchen wondered aloud. “Did she steal the shawl and the parasol?”
    “Logical conclusion.” April’s voice was cold. “Personally, I never cared for the woman. Shifty, I thought, and unscrupulous. She certainly could have stolen it. But I’m not aware that any of the club members around here own an original Bru with accompanying trunk.”
    “She had only a picture and a few accessories,” Nina said. “That doesn’t mean she’s a thief. Let’s not snap to any rash conclusions.”
    Gretchen picked up the photo of the fashion doll and turned it over. On the back, she read the date that the film had been processed. Four years ago.
    “Gretchen, is it possible Martha was at your mother’s house the night she died?” April asked, ignoring Nina’s defense of the dead woman.
    Gretchen was surprised. “Why would you think that?”
    “Camelback Mountain is right in Caroline’s backyard. I’m simply exploring the possibility.” She arched a brow. “The police won’t overlook that, you know.”
    Gretchen shrugged. “I have no way of knowing for sure. But my mother never mentioned Martha to me.” She turned to Nina. “Did Martha ever come here for repair