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proof that you have permission to be here."
    "I didn't mean to imply-"
    "I have to ask you to leave now." Britt escorted Gretchen and her travel companion, Nimrod, out of Mini Maize. Gretchen joined her aunt on the street of Old Scottsdale.
    "I can't believe some people," Nina said. "That crabby gallery owner threw us out. No dogs, the guy said."
    "Join the club," Gretchen muttered. She felt sufficiently chastised. Why had she questioned Charlie's friend?
    Who do I think I am? Jessica Fletcher?

4
    "Peanut flour," April Lehman exclaimed early Monday morning while jiving to the beat of "Wake Up Little Susie." Her heavy frame heaved from the exertion, her legs pounded away on the gym mat.
    "Peanut flour?" Gretchen asked.
    Curves was packed, as usual. "Change stations now,"
    the programmed voice commanded, as it did every thirty seconds all day long. The women moved in a large circle, climbing onto different machines or creating their own moves on the square platforms spaced at intervals around the exercise equipment.
    The doll collectors, who all gathered at Curves to exercise three times each week, were keeping a steady stream of conversation going. Gretchen looked around at the familiar group: Rita, the Barbie enthusiast; Karen, the kindergarten teacher who liked Lee Middletons; and April, the club's doll appraiser and Gretchen's friend. April always seemed on the verge of collapsing after the first pass around the circle.
    "Peanut flour?" Gretchen repeated.
    "Peanut flour?" echoed Ora, the Curves manager. Bonnie Albright hurried in before April could expand on her peanut flour comment. Bonnie was not only Detective Matt Albright's mother, she was president of the Phoenix Dollers Club and the biggest gossip of the group. She wedged into the circle between April and Gretchen.
    "Where's Nina?" Bonnie asked, her red wig slightly skewed. She had applied lipstick in a shaky line around her mouth.
    "She's picking up a client," Gretchen said. "Enrico is back in training."
    "The Chihuahua?"
    Gretchen nodded. "He needs a monthly refresher course."
    Enrico didn't forget what Nina taught him; he simply refused to cooperate.
    "How's your mother?" Bonnie asked.
    "She came in late last night. She's still sleeping."
    "Let me get back to my story about Sara Bellingmore,"
    April said. She plopped on the thigh abductor but didn't attempt to work the hydraulic machine. She wiped her face with her sleeve.
    When Gretchen had mentioned the inscription on Charlie's display case, April had pounced on the chance to hold center stage.
    "You remember Sara," Rita said to Bonnie. "She was Charlie's sister."
    "The name doesn't ring a bell." Bonnie ran in place on a platform.
    Gretchen smiled to herself. Bonnie's version of running amounted to a few sloppy arm swings and small heel lifts. The mechanical voice interrupted, and everyone moved to the next position in the large circle.
    "You knew her, Bonnie," April said. "She was a miniature collector. She also collected antique penny dolls and must have had several hundred of them. She had a table at one of our shows a few years back, brimming with those tiny little dolls." April sighed wistfully. "I should have bought all of them. I love penny dolls." Gretchen's friend was a serious miniature doll collector, but cash was always tight for April.
    "Now I remember her," Bonnie said, looking thoughtful.
    "The miniaturists keep to themselves, but so do we," she acknowledged.
    "Sara Bellingmore died last year," April said. "She ate a slice of banana bread made with peanut flour."
    "Don't you mean peanut butter?" Bonnie said.
    "Peanut flour," April emphasized. "It has a very mild peanut flavor. Sara died from an allergic reaction to the nuts. Her throat swelled up, and she suffocated to death."
    "What an awful way to go," Gretchen said. "Peanut allergies are dangerous, especially severe ones."
    Rita piped up. "I have a friend who gets sick if she eats anything that's been prepared in a pan that contained peanut