Dolly Departed, page 21
part #3 of Dolls To Die For Series
"Maybe he didn't hear it the same way you did."
"What's going on with Caroline?" Nina asked, tuning in to the conversation and realizing it was time to change the channel.
"She left early this morning for Apache Junction,"
Gretchen said. "She's looking at a doll collection. She'd be happy to hear that we're going back to our routine lives, only she didn't know we were still pursuing bad guys. I have a workshop full of dolls waiting for my attention, and I can't wait to get started on them."
"And I have a long list of clients to train. I'll need help catching up. I'll have to find Daisy."
They were on the sidewalk in front of Curves discussing whose car to take when Bonnie pulled up and parked. "Oh, no," April gasped, her solid frame blocking Gretchen's view. At first, Gretchen thought April was overacting because of the killer clown. Maybe Bonnie's stiff red wig and painted face reminded April of her all-too-real fears. Matt's mother tended to look a bit clownish.
Gretchen watched the passenger door open and Matt's rodeo date step out. Gretchen heard Nina inhale sharply behind her. She felt her blood pressure rising.
Bonnie, who claimed she wanted Gretchen and Matt to get together, was parading his new woman right in front of Gretchen. And at Curves. The group's special place. What nerve! What a slap in the face!
"Hey," Bonnie called. "Are you girls done working out already? What's the story? You should have called me. We could have come earlier."
"We're in a hurry," Nina said with narrowed eyes and a reddening face. She was working up some steam on Gretchen's behalf. She sashayed forward with her hands on her hips, snorting fire. "And who might this be?"
"Let's go, Nina," Gretchen said, placing a hand on her aunt's shoulder. "It isn't important. We'll be late."
"Not quite yet."
April popped into the conversation. "I think we should go."
"Not quite yet."
"What's wrong with everybody?" Bonnie said, her penciled eyebrows in one big question mark. "Usually a workout puts everyone in a better mood. You sure are crabby."
No one answered. Nina snorted again while Bonnie searched their faces for clues. Gretchen risked a glance at the woman. She was blonde and beautiful. Not a blemish on her porcelain skin. Gretchen had dolls with worse complexions. The woman passed Gretchen and peered into the workout room.
"You go on ahead," Bonnie said to her. "I need to talk to my friends for a minute."
"Former friends," Nina said.
"What is going on?'
The model/Hollywood star opened the door and disappeared inside.
"Who is that?" Nina demanded, pointing a ramrod-stiff arm at the empty space where the woman had just been standing. "And why in the world would you bring her to Curves, of all places? You knew Gretchen would be here. Didn't you? Admit it."
"What are you talking about? Meggie--"
"That was so underhanded," April chimed in.
"Let's go," Gretchen pleaded. "This isn't worth destroying our relationships over."
"If someone doesn't tell me what's going on, I'm going to scream," Bonnie shouted.
"I'm leaving," Gretchen said.
Bonnie let out a scream so high and piercing, windows within two miles were sure to blow out. Nina and April had their hands over their ears.
The Curves door opened. Starlet peeked out, looking worried. "What's up?" she called loudly trying to be heard over Bonnie. She glanced at Gretchen apologetically. "She hasn't been herself lately. That's why I'm visiting for a while. Auntie Bonnie!"
Bonnie quit screaming.
Nina's mouth fell open.
"Coming, Meggie," Bonnie said meekly. "Sorry, ladies."
"This was all a misunderstanding," Nina said. She hugged the confused president of the Phoenix Dollers Club.
Gretchen couldn't help it. A big grin spread across her face.
"We're losing her," April said. "I knew I should have driven."
Gretchen was trying to keep up with Nina on the drive over to the Scottsdale police station. Her aunt drove like a NASCAR racer, darting and weaving through traffic without so much as a backward glance to see if her niece was still behind her.
The three dogs were in Nina's Impala, and Gretchen caught a glimpse of them in the backseat now and then. After running through several questionable yellow lights to stay behind Nina, Gretchen gave up. She used her cell phone to call the station and ask for an address. Nina disappeared from sight after another acceleration and another yellow light. Gretchen didn't care. She was elated.
Model Girl, aka Meggie, was Bonnie's niece. That made her Matt's cousin. Gretchen couldn't see the family resemblance, but then she didn't see any between Bonnie and Matt, either. She should have guessed, or at least considered the possibility that the blonde woman was a family member. Had Gretchen wanted to think the very worst of Matt?
Was that how she planned to dodge commitment for the rest of her life? By being overly suspicious? She should have communicated her concerns to Matt instead of leaping to conclusions. It was apparent she still hadn't recovered from the residual effects of her last relationship. The scars ran deeper than she thought.
"Next time I'm driving," April announced. "I could keep up with her." Gretchen didn't say anything about the condition of April's Buick. It had more crumpled metal than a demolition car. No way was she ever riding in a car with April at the wheel. "I'm off my diet," April said.
"Let's stop for food."
"That was a hard diet to follow. Why don't you try the Curves diet? Everyone says it works. Or try Weight Watchers."
"I lost what I wanted," Gretchen's friend said from the folds of a yellow muumuu. "Can't you tell?"
"I thought you looked especially slim and trim," Gretchen punted.
"The clown theory really bothers me. How can we trust Ryan?" April said, abruptly changing the subject. "You can't believe anything that kid says. He's a druggie. They lie."
"What are the odds he would have described the same clown I ran into?"
April waved a dismissing hand. "They all look alike."
"No, they don't."
"By the way," April said, "You never told me how you got into the intensive care unit."
"I stealthily moved through the hospital like a Ninja shadow until I found the nurses' lounge. There, still stealthing, I discovered a uniform and cloaked myself in disguise," Gretchen said. "After that it was easy. I only had to take out one security guard before I completed my mission."
April laughed. "You walked right in, didn't you?"
"I'll never tell. Next time you'll have to come along if you want the details."
"You sure do have a silly smile on your face. Matt Albright's got to you good."
Gretchen grinned. Matt's cousin! What a great day!
Nina and April were talking at the same time. From a conference room chair, Gretchen listened to her friends' accounts of events relating to Charlie's murder while Detective Brandon Kline took notes and asked them to clarify details. It was a convoluted trail. Gretchen pitched in when she could get a word in, trying to keep the story on a linear path.
It began with the discovery of the unknown kitchen room box and the miniature peanut butter jar. "We found out what all the room boxes were modeled after," Nina said, using 'we' very loosely. Gretchen didn't remember much participation from her aunt. She was too busy reading fortunes.
"They were replicas of famous murder scenes. Except for one. At first we didn't think it belonged with the others. Then we decided it must belong to the person who killed Sara."
"An unveiling," April added, "in which the killer would be revealed."
"Dramatic," Brandon said, scribbling away.
"That's what I thought," Nina, the drama queen, agreed.
"The display case was inscribed with Sara's name," April said. "Murder scenes. Can you believe it! Very spooky."
"Then Ryan Maize viciously attacked Gretchen."
"And Bernard Waites was blown up with bug juice, and we found out he was a thief."
The stories went on.
"Since Evie covered up for Bernard's embezzlement,"
April deduced, "she might be part of the scheme, but as far as I'm concerned, Charlie's own son committed the actual murder, in spite of what Gretchen thinks."
Brandon glanced at Gretchen.
Nina jumped in with another plausible suspect. "Joseph chews nicotine gum, and he's an alcoholic who had a blackout, or so he says, right when Charlie died."
"Then the miniature shop window exploded," April cut in. "We were stopped by the police and wrongly accused of transporting drugs. The killer's way, I'm sure, of seeking revenge for our efforts to expose him."
"I can explain that one," Brandon said. "When the drug tip came in, the Phoenix police moved too quickly. They generally have to close in fast when they get a tip like that, but they ought to maintain some distance until they're sure of their facts. This one slipped past the normal channels."
"Any idea who made the call?" Gretchen asked.
"We know who made it."
Gretchen looked at him expectantly.
"I'm not free to divulge that information. Let's just say you were set up by someone who used to be very close to someone Gretchen is close to. The call was motivated by jealousy. I apologize for the misunderstanding."
He could only be talking about the Wife. Kayla!
Gretchen fumed. Of all the low things to pull.
"Apology accepted," Nina said in her huskiest voice. He smiled, and little lines around his eyes crinkled in a cute way. Nina blushed coyly.
"Anyone have anything more to add?" Brandon said.
"Oh, you might want to talk to Britt Gleeland," Nina said. "At the very beginning when I told Britt that Detective Albright suspected murder, she--"
"That was supposed to be a secret, Nina," Gretchen interrupted sharply. Nina covered her mouth and glanced quickly at Gretchen. "I wasn't supposed to tell, I know. I'm sorry."
"You didn't hurt anything," Gretchen said, realizing Matt had told her in confidence. If anyone was to blame for spreading it around, it was Gretchen. "Everyone knows about it by now."
"Anyway," Nina said. "Britt figured it was Charlie's heart problem that killed her. But if it really was murder, Britt said she'd overheard the son, Ryan, threaten his poor mother enough times."
"Gretchen doesn't think Ryan killed Charlie," April said. "She thinks a clown did it."
This was Gretchen's cue. She told the detective about the incident at the parade and her conversation with Ryan Maize in which he described the same clown.
"So," Gretchen said to the detective when she finished,
"what do you think?"
Brandon dropped his pen and leaned back in his chair.
"I really can't discuss the case with you," he said. "I wish I could, but it's against policy. You've all done a great job. You know what I suggest at this point?"
"No, what?" April said.
"I suggest you go home and get back to your normal lives. You've played an important part in the investigation, but now that part is over. Detective Albright and I will take it home from here."
"That's exactly what I said," April chirped, making an effort to push her new, lithe body out of her chair. "Let's go, girls."
"Nina, can I speak to you for a minute?" Brandon asked.
"Alone?"
Gretchen and April filed out.
Nina fluttered out a few minutes later. "He wanted my phone number," she said, glowing like the sun. Through the conference room windows, Gretchen saw Detective Kline talking on a phone. He was all business. She would love to hear what he was saying. And to whom.
* 35 *
To style a tangled mohair wig you need to learn about the hair fashions from your doll's era. Make sure you match the hairstyle to the doll. You can use small permanent wave rollers, hair- dresser's end papers, hair clips, bobby pins, plenty of hairspray, and your imagination. A bit of warning though--of all the wig materials, mohair is the most difficult to work with. First prac- tice on human hair or synthetic wigs. If proper care is taken, your new coiffed style will last another hundred years.
--From World of Dolls by Caroline Birch Early Tuesday morning, Gretchen climbed Camelback Mountain at a brisk speed and stood at the very summit overlooking the awakening city and the rising sun. Back to normal. Back to her life. It felt good.
Today, she would set an original mohair wig in curlers. She reflected back on her first styling effort. She'd rolled all the curls away from the doll's face and had to redo the entire thing. Live and learn.
Learn and live. Isn't that the advice she'd given her friends? But she wasn't going to think about murder today. She'd hike, work in the workshop, and play with Wobbles and Nimrod.
The desert air was fresh and clean at this altitude, and she breathed it in with familiar appreciation. This was her favorite spot, up with the birds at the top of the world. No one else seemed as enthralled with the mountain as Gretchen. A few serious hikers came up this far, but it was a difficult, steep climb. Most people stopped at the enormous boulder just before the most grueling part of the trail began. She saw a few ant-sized people close to the trailhead, but it was still too early for the tourists to be out. Gretchen started down.
Matt Albright was waiting for her at the boulder. He wore cargo shorts, running shoes, a Don't Worry Be Hopi T-shirt, and he was leaning against the rocks watching her descend.
"Don't run away," he said immediately, pushing off from the face of the boulder. "Talk to me."
"I'm not going to run away." Far from it!
"I thought you and I were making progress, then something happened." He took her hand, and she felt tingles up her arm, through her body. "We need to talk about it."
"There's nothing to talk about," Gretchen squeaked. "I was going through some old relationship burnout. I'm better now."
"Nina told me."
"Told you what?"
"That you thought Meg was my date when you saw us together at the rodeo."
Gretchen didn't respond. Good old interfering Nina with her big, blabby mouth. Kindhearted, but way too involved in Gretchen's life.
"Did Detective Kline tell you about the clown?" she asked.
"You're dodging."
Of course I am.
"Well, did he?"
"We've contacted all the local costume shops. None have a clown suit like the one you described."
Gretchen opened her mouth to ask another question, anything to get him off this uncomfortable topic. He cut in.
"Can we start over?" Matt asked. The sun rising as a backdrop lit up the rocks. He squeezed her hand.
"Your pending divorce seems to be going on forever,"
Gretchen said. Finally, it was out in the open. "And your wife is stalking me. This isn't the best time to start something new."
"Ignore Kayla."
"That's not so easy. But that isn't the main problem. It's that you're still married, still going through the process. And I have a lot of baggage from my last relationship,"
Gretchen said, intent on talking him out of wanting her. "I need to resolve some issues. Otherwise I'll bring them right along with me."
"Don't you think I have a few of my own?" He laughed lightly. His teeth gleamed. His face was handsome and tan. He had a firm, tight body, and he was fun to be with. What are you waiting for?
"Let's work together," he said.
"We can't start out with so many problems." Whine, whine, whine. Part of her wanted to go for it. The other part skidded to a stop.
"I tell you what," Matt said. "In two days I hope to remove one of the obstacles; it's my final divorce hearing. Truthfully? I've had this 'final' hearing several times before with one postponement after another. So I can't make any promises. To show you how much I respect your integrity, if it's postponed, I won't bother you again."
Yikes. Was he slipping away already?
"But . . ." He slipped a finger under her chin and waited until she looked at him, until their eyes met, "if the divorce is final, you give me a chance. Deal?"
He kissed her gently.
"Deal," she whispered.
Then he left her standing alone halfway up the mountain. The rest of the morning passed in a cloud. Gretchen peered into her completed projects basket and was surprised to find it full. She was operating on automatic drive while her mind replayed the kiss and promise.
She sighed, fully aware that she was behaving like a teenager. It was wonderful to be in love. Or was it lust?
Whatever. It felt great. She wished Matt were here. Then she remembered his doll phobia.
One more reason why this would be a difficult relationship to maintain. Heavy sigh. Gretchen set down the antique German doll she was holding.
Nimrod raced past on his way to the doggie door. The tiny door had been a good investment. It allowed him to decide on his own when he needed to go out. Wobbles uncurled from a position on the edge of the worktable and stretched. A few pats from her, a little purring, and he plopped back down. What a life.
She found Caroline and Daisy on the patio, having iced tea and sandwiches.
"I spent the night, and you didn't even notice," the homeless woman said. She was scrubbed clean, and her purple dress had been washed. Nimrod was on her lap.
"Sit and have lunch," her mother offered.
"You should come more often." Gretchen joined them, pleased that Daisy felt comfortable enough to pop in.
"I hear Ryan's doing well," Daisy said.
"He's so lucky," Caroline said.
Gretchen poured a glass of tea. "Daisy, the other night at the rodeo, a clown told me where to find you."
Daisy nodded. "That was Andy. He works for the rodeo every year."
"Does he own the clown suit?"
"No," she said. "They supply it."
"Ever see a clown with green hair and a bald spot on the crown?"
"I thought you were going to let the police handle Charlie's murder from now on," her mother complained. "Let it go."
Daisy rolled her eyes skyward, thinking. "Can't say that I have. Why?"
