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way.”
    â€œYou stay, then. I’ll go.” I turned to Cara. “Would you call and ask if Dr. Grayman can see me today? Then ask Eric to pack it up.”
    While Cara called the museum, I picked up the second snow globe and shook it gently, creating the illusion that I was watching the couple skate in a brisk snowstorm. The figures were beautifully rendered in what appeared to be porcelain. The young woman had an aristocratic cast to her face; her chin was held high, and she looked down her nose. Her hair was light brown, shoulder length, and wavy. Her eyes were celestial blue. She wore a traditional midthigh-length red skating dress. White lace at the chest and sleeves glittered thanks to the clever placement of crystal-embedded red beads. The fluttering flare of her skirt showed the craftsman’s ability. The man was handsome, with thick brown hair and dark brown eyes under bushy eyebrows. He was half-smiling, pleased at his own skating, perhaps, or glad to be with such a beautiful woman. His outfit was as traditional as hers, loose-fitting blue slacks and a red and blue cropped jacket. I shook the globe again. They were both full-figured—not fat, even by today’s twig-thin standards, but well-fed, a symbol of affluence in seventeenth- and eighteenth-century art; in an age when most people survived on a subsistence diet, only the rich got plump.
    I looked at Sasha. “The couple is not skinny.”
    She smiled. “I had the same thought. Maybe eighteenth century.”
    â€œDo you recognize the maker?”
    â€œNo. I’ll need to take it apart to look for a mark under the skaters. If we’re right in dating it, obviously, the globe was added after the fact.”
    â€œWhat makes you so certain?” Gretchen asked, fascinated.
    â€œSnow globes weren’t invented until about 1900,” Sasha explained, “when a surgical instrument repairman named Edward Perzy set out to invent a brighter light for operating rooms. His idea was to use glass balls filled with water and semolina. It didn’t work, but seeing the semolina float and spin in the water gave him an idea for a novelty—and presto, snow globes were born. His company, Vienna Snow Globes, won the first patent for one.”
    Gretchen nodded, understanding the implications. “So if the skaters were sculpted earlier than 1900 … got it.”
    Cara swiveled toward me. “You’re all set, Josie. Dr. Grayman can see you at eleven.”
    â€œThanks, Cara.” I glanced at the clock. It was just after nine. I’d need to leave by ten thirty. I was half-listening as Cara called Eric to explain the packing job when the door opened, setting the wind chimes jangling.
    Jason stepped in, smart phone in hand. He wore a navy blue sport coat, gray slacks, and a crisply ironed and starched blue shirt. I could picture him on a billboard in an ad for a luxury car or expensive cruise. The modern man of distinction. I wondered how much of his facade was an act.
    â€œAm I too early to do that paperwork?” he asked after I introduced him around. “It seems Timothy isn’t quite done with us. I need to get over to the film site by ten.”
    â€œOh, no! Did something go wrong with what he shot yesterday?”
    â€œNo, they just want to add in some romantic bits. It’s the same on my show—everything is staged.” He smiled, a good-natured one. “I heard rumblings about walking hand in hand on the beach, that sort of thing. Heather and Ana are already putting their heads together with Timothy about how best to communicate romance.”
    â€œI’m sure it will end up looking natural.” I asked Gretchen to print out a copy of our appraisal agreement. Jason read the document carefully, then signed it.
    â€œHere you go,” he said, handing back my copy. His phone buzzed, and he glanced at it. “Business. I’ve got to take this. I’ll have my