Hidden Riches

minute.”
    “Sure. How about that dance number? Those lessons I’ve been taking are paying off.”
    “You were great.” With a nod to Jed, Dora steered Terri briskly through the stagehands and technicians. “We’ll just need a corner of the dressing room.”
    Several other members of the chorus were already inside, repairing hair and makeup. Though some were stripped down to their underwear for costume changes, no one gave Jed more than a brief glance.
    “Can I borrow this?” Dora asked, and commandeered astool before anyone would refuse. “Sit down, Terri, get off your feet.”
    “You don’t know how good that feels.” She shifted toward the mirrors, choosing a makeup sponge to dab at the greasepaint moistened by sweat.
    “About DiCarlo,” Dora began.
    “Who?” Terri stopped running lines in her head. “Oh, the guy from Christmas Eve.” She smiled at Jed. “Dora’s been real mysterious about him.”
    “What did he buy?” Jed asked.
    “Oh, a Staffordshire figure. Never even winked at the price. He looked like he could afford it without any trouble though. And it was for his aunt. His favorite aunt. He said how she’d practically raised him, and she was getting really old. You know, a lot of people don’t think that old people like getting nice things, but you could tell he really loved her.”
    Jed let her run down. “Did he show any interest in anything else?”
    “Well, he looked all around, took his time. I thought he might bite on the Foo dog because he was looking for an animal.”
    “An animal?” Jed’s eyes sharpened, but his voice remained cool and flat.
    “You know, a statue of one. His aunt collects statues. Dogs,” she added, relining her eyes with quick, deft movements. “See, she had this dog that died, and—”
    “Was he specific?” Jed interrupted.
    “Uh . . .” Terri pursed her lips and tried to think back. “Seems to me he really wanted a dog like the one his aunt had had who died—said he hadn’t been able to find exactly what he’d been looking for.” She freshened her lipstick, checked the results. “I remember he talked about the dog his aunt had—the dead one. I thought how we’d had that china piece that would have been perfect. It sounded like the dead dog had modeled for it. While he was alive, you know.” She picked up a brush to fuss with her hair. “Youknow, Dora, the one you picked up at that auction. We’d already sold it, though.”
    Dora felt her blood drain. “To Mrs. Lyle.”
    “I don’t know. You handled that sale, I think.”
    “Yes.” Light-headed, Dora twisted her fingers together. “Yes, I did.”
    “Hey!” Alarmed, Terri turned on the stool. “Are you okay?”
    “I’m fine.” She forced a smile. She needed to get out. Needed air. “Thanks, Terri.”
    “No problem. Are you staying for the rest of the show?”
    “Not tonight.” Sickened, Dora fumbled for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    “Maybe you’d better go after her,” Terri said to Jed. “She looked a little faint.”
    “Did you tell him about the china piece?”
    “Yeah, I think so.” Baffled, Terri slid off the stool and went to the door to see if Dora was in the corridor. “It seemed like such a coincidence, you know. I told him how we’d had something, but we’d sold it. I’m going to see what’s wrong with Dora.”
    “I’ll do it.”
    He caught up to her at the stage door, just as she was pushing through and drawing in deep breaths of air.
    “Shake it off, Conroy.” He held her by the shoulders at arm’s length. He was afraid if he did more, she’d snap like a twig.
    “I sold it to her.” When she tried to jerk away, he merely tightened his hold. “For God’s sake, Jed, I sold it to her. I don’t know what he wanted it for, why he would have killed for it, but I sold it to her and the day after he found out—”
    “I said shake it off.” He all but lifted her off her feet, his face close to hers. “You sell lots of things—that’s what you do. You’re not responsible for what happens to the people who buy them.”
    “I can’t be like that!” she shouted at him, and struckout. “I can’t close myself off that way. That’s your trick, Skimmerhorn. Make sure you don’t give a damn, make sure nothing slips through and actually makes you feel. That’s you. Not me.”
    That got through, and twisted in his gut. “You want to blame yourself, fine.” Gripping her arm, he pulled her away from the door. “I’ll