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stones on each hand. Her right hand bore a large emerald and her left, a yellow
diamond. Her hair was dyed a white blonde that had lost any true sense of color
and was curled until it formed a puffed bob. Molly instinctively knew that it
was also disciplined into its form with enough hair spray to choke a bull.
    Bunny’s face was a mask of makeup
including green eye shadow and mauve lipstick. It had been deftly applied and
made to look subtle, but in combination with the jewels, the hair, and the
strong, musky perfume, Bunny gave the impression that she was just on her way
to a high couture fashion show. She hardly looked like a widow mourning the
loss of her husband. And the expression on her face was all business. Without
smiling, she stepped back from the doorframe, allowing them inside. She arched
a thin, drawn eyebrow over seeing four people enter when she had only
telephoned one.
    Lex made the introductions,
explaining that his three "assistants" would help him write
descriptions of all the objects  Bunny was interested in selling. That would
enable him to give Bunny a more accurate quote for the auction contract.
    Bunny waved his explanation off
with an impatient flick of her hand. "I don't need a quote. You're the man
for this job, and I'm not concerned about what you get for this stuff, I just
want it out of the house."
    Her voice was low and humorless.
Molly wondered how she was coping with her husband's death. He was a man with
whom she seemed to have shared a passionless marriage. Was it a loveless one as
well? George-Bradley had cheated on her, filled the house with things she
disliked, and avoided her presence. Though Bunny did not look the part of the
grieving widow, Molly had a feeling that she was an expert at concealing her
feelings. Were there traces of tension and pain beneath the flat voice and the
immovable face?
    "Ma’am?" Molly asked
sweetly, already planning ahead for an article on the Stauntons. "Do you
mind if I photograph the items you want to sell?"
    "Not at all. You’ll need
pictures for the auction anyway, won't you? As far as I'm concerned, you can
box it all and get it out of here today."
    Lex was unprepared for this.
Typically, he went into a residence, looked over the items, and then discussed
with the owner the probable value, when it would be sold, and what he would
charge for his commission. If accepted, he and the other party would sign a
contract and Lex would pack up all of the items to move them to a storage
space. If Bunny was offering him items without reviewing the contract right
away, they must only be the low-end or damaged pieces from George-Bradley’s
collection.
    "Let's see how much we're
talking about." Lex couldn't hide his disappointment. If Bunny was only
selling a few pieces of chipped pottery, they had all gotten excited for
nothing.
    "All of it, naturally. I am
going to completely redecorate this wing of the house"—Bunny gestured
grandly—"so all four rooms in my ..." She paused. "That were George-
Bradley's can be cleared out."
    "Including furniture?"
Lex's good humor was instantly restored.
    "Everything," Bunny said
firmly. "Down to the last paper clip in his desk. I don't want a single
item left there, is that understood?"
    The four friends were silent.
Bunny could not have made it more evident how she felt about her husband. She
had hated him. She was getting rid of all signs of his presence, and she was
wasting no time about it.
    "I understand, and I can take
care of everything for you," Lex assured her, which was the perfect reply.
    "I'll leave you to it
then." She nodded her head in dismissal and crossed the hall to the other
wing, which had been her domain in the divided house.
    Clara wisely closed the door
leading into the hall, so that the four of them could react to their
discoveries without being overheard.
    "Wow!" Clara grabbed
onto Lex's arm and gave him a shake. "Did you hear what she said?”
    "I did!" Lex replied
gleefully. "I heard the