Goodbye Dolly dtdf-2

by Deb Baker

"What do you think, Gretchen? Am I a suspect?"

  "No, of course not," Gretchen reassured her. "You were at your table the whole time, weren't you?"

  Nina paused to think about it. Then she grinned widely.

  "Yup. I was."

  "And you have all kinds of witnesses to that," Gretchen said. "You're off the hook."

  Gretchen thought of Steve's altercation with Ronny, which had taken place in front of as many, if not more, witnesses. She couldn't say the same for him.

  Daisy showered and changed her clothes while Nina occupied her time with a training session for Sophie. This was Gretchen's chance to get some much-needed advice, and her aunt Gertie in Michigan was the perfect person to ask for it.

  Gretchen could use a break from personal conflict, and the last thing she wanted was for Nina to know about this phone call. She closed the workshop door to ensure privacy. Aunt Nina and Aunt Gertie didn't get along, mainly because they were both strong, opinionated alpha females. Gertie Johnson came from Gretchen's father's side of the family and was only related to Nina through marriage. Nina mentioned that fact every time Gertie's name came up in conversation.

  When the familiar voice answered, Gretchen said, "How are things in the Upper Peninsula?"

  "Still holding together," Aunt Gertie said. "The fall colors are at their peak. You should come for a visit."

  "I'd like that. Still running your private investigation service?"

  "Of course. Someone has to catch criminals. You don't expect my sheriff son to be doing much."

  Blaze, Gretchen's cousin, ran the local law enforcement service like The Andy Griffith Show. Stonely, Michigan, had a lot in common with Mayberry. So did Blaze and Barney Fife. No wonder her aunt took the law into her own hands.

  "And how are Star and Heather?" Her aunt had named all her kids for the horses she never had.

  "They're fine. But you didn't call to chitchat," Aunt Gertie said. "I can hear it in your voice. Something's happened."

  Gretchen related recent events, including her suspicions about Steve. "Maybe I should have told Matt the truth," she finished.

  "You did the right thing. You don't even know what the truth is yet. If you had told him, Steve would be in jail right this minute, and the police would have considered the case closed."

  "I'm aiding and abetting."

  "Nothing of the sort. What if they had arrested you? If it was your knife, maybe you're being set up."

  "I hadn't thought of that." In all the excitement, the ramification of the weapon in Ronny's back belonging to her hadn't sunk in. How could she explain how the knife got there?

  "You don't really think Steve killed the reporter, do you?" Gertie asked.

  "No." Gretchen wished her voice was firmer.

  "Do you want to find the real killer?"

  "Of course."

  "Then figure it out."

  That was Gertie. Making the impossible sound simple. In an emergency, Gertie Johnson was the person to be with. Totally self-sufficient. Maybe it came from living in the isolation of northern Michigan. Maybe it was just Gertie's resilient nature.

  "Exactly what did Ronny say to you at the doll show?"

  "He said that some story he was working on was about to blow sky high. He said something like this is better news than dolls murdering people."

  "That's odd," Gertie said.

  "The guy is… was odd. I'm sure the comment didn't mean anything."

  Gertie's sigh was unmistakable. "This is what I keep trying to tell Blaze. When murder's involved, everything is important. You need to find out what he meant by that."

  "And how do I find out?"

  "The guy was a reporter. He wrote stuff down, right?"

  "Right." Gretchen remembered Ronny's recording unit.

  "Start with a thorough search of his house. And Gretchen, watch your back."

  The line went dead.

  Gretchen's back was feeling extremely exposed and vulnerable.

  "Ronny lived in the Palm Tree Trailer Park," Nina said.

  "Off of Twenty-fourth Street."

  "Did Daisy tell you that?"

  Nina nodded. "Daisy never stops talking."

  "She knows everything. It's amazing."

  "She just wants to stretch out on the couch and watch television all day. She's clutching the remote like it's a newborn baby."

  Gretchen sat at the worktable. Pieces from a balljointed doll body lay before her. "Nineteen pieces," she said, holding up a lower leg. "And it's been taken completely apart. How am I going to figure this out? I hope I don't have this many dolls to repair again tomorrow, or I'll never get through them all. I've hardly started this bunch."

  "First day is always the busiest. You'll have time tomorrow at the show to catch up."

  Gretchen looked at the assortment of dolls requiring restringing and shook her head in dismay.

  "Perk up," Nina said. "I have something special for you."

  "What?" Gretchen spun her stool around. "A present?

  For me?"

  "For you." Nina handed her a plastic bag with Beyond the Galaxy etched on the side. "Open it," she said, grinning. Gretchen peeked into the bag, then looked at Nina, puzzled. She extracted a pair of glasses with cardboard frames and indigo-colored lenses. "Are they 3-D glasses?"

  "No, no. These are aura glasses. They're going to help you see auras."

  Gretchen stared at Nina. According to her aunt, colors emanated from all matter, including cacti, doll collections, and wee-wee pads. She could divine the future, she claimed, by studying the color surrounding a human body. Gretchen had no hard evidence to back up Nina's outrageous claim, nor was she expecting Nina to ever prove it conclusively.

  "Put them on," Nina said, excited.

  Feeling foolish, Gretchen slipped on the flimsy frames.

  "Now what?"

  "Well? What do you see?"

  Gretchen's gaze fell on Wobbles, her three-legged cat, who at the moment was occupied with a small, fuzzy ball. He batted it across the room and pounced, unaware that he had a physical handicap. "I don't know. I guess I see light around Wobbles."

  Nina clapped her hands. "I knew you had the gift. Now, what color are you seeing?"

  "I'm not seeing a color, just light." Gretchen pulled off the frames and looked at them. "The tint on the lenses must draw light."

  "No, the tint has nothing to do with it," Nina said, indignant. "It's happening because of you. Keep working with them. With practice, you'll see colors, and then we'll talk about what the different colors represent. Eventually, you won't need the glasses. You'll be just like me."

  Gretchen stifled a burst of laughter and turned it into a throat clearing. Just like her aunt? She didn't think so. No one on this planet was just like Nina.

  "So you're telling me that you see different colors around everyone?"

  "Almost everyone."

  "Who's the exception?"

  Nina squirmed.

  "Come on, tell me." She was on to something.

  "Men," Nina said, reluctantly. "I can't see male auras."

  Gretchen chuckled.

  "I can't figure men out either. I'm sure special glasses won't help."

  "Do you like them?" Nina asked, meaning the glasses.

  "Love them," Gretchen replied, meaning the men.

  "You never know when they'll come in handy," Nina said. "Carry them in your purse."

  "I will." Gretchen laid the glasses on the cluttered workbench. "I need to pack up more Ginny dolls for tomorrow. If the show had stayed open another few hours, I would have sold out."

  She rummaged through her mother's sale stock and selected a safari Ginny, a graduation Ginny in a white robe, and a drum majorette Ginny in a red uniform. "These are so cute. I hate to sell them."

  "You'll make your mother proud," Nina said, taking them from Gretchen and laying them on the worktable. She peered into the bag of dolls awaiting repair. "Look,"

  she said, "Here's that package from our friendly postal employe
e. You never opened it."

  Gretchen sighed. "It's probably one more doll that needs repairing."

  Nina ripped open the outer wrapping with one fluid, practiced motion and worked her fingernails around the edges of the package, loosening the tape. "It's wrapped well," she commented, removing a layer of bubble wrap and setting it aside.

  Gretchen continued digging through boxes looking for more dolls her mother wanted to sell. "I can't find any more Ginnys. I guess I'll take Barbie dolls."

  "Gretchen, look what was in the package." Nina held up a Blunderboo Kewpie doll.

  Gretchen rose and took the Kewpie from Nina. She turned it over in her hand. The three-inch doll bore the O'Neill mark on its feet and the red heart on its belly. "It has the same markings as the one that broke yesterday. Only this one is real. And unbroken."

  "Why send a perfectly fine doll to be repaired?" Nina asked. "That doesn't make sense."

  Gretchen ran her finger over its naked, chubby body and almost dropped it in startled surprise.

  Under her fingers, she felt a crack where the head and body had been reconnected.

  "Nina, this one's been repaired, too."

  "In the same place?"

  "Yes."

  Nina clamped a hand across her mouth theatrically, her eyes wide. Then she removed her hand to speak. "I have a bad feeling about this."

  Gretchen stared at the doll. "It's a coincidence. A fluke."

  "Then who sent it?"

  Gretchen dug through the packaging but couldn't find a return address. "Was it wrapped in this?" Gretchen held up a brown paper bag.

  Nina nodded.

  Gretchen turned the bag over and saw Bert's Liquor printed on it. Then she looked at the rest of the packaging.

  "There's no note, but it looks like it was sent locally, from here in Phoenix."

  "I have a premonition," Nina said, lowering her husky voice dramatically. "Someone sent this doll as a warning."

  Gretchen placed the Kewpie in a stand and stood it upright on top of a bin filled with doll clothes. "We'll take it to the doll show tomorrow and see if anyone knows where it came from."

  Like her aunt, Gretchen didn't believe in coincidence. But the reason why someone would send it escaped her. Nina thought it was a warning, but if so, where was the message?

  The doll didn't need repair. That had already been done. And there was no return address.

  What was going on?

  12

  When they headed for the Palm Tree Trailer Park, the sun burned orange as it moved over the horizon and twilight began to descend on the city. Gretchen checked her watch. Six o'clock.

  "Okay, we're lost," Gretchen said from the driver's seat. She leaned forward to catch the next street sign.

  "No, we're not," Nina said. "We're on Thirtieth. Keep going straight and slow down a little."

  Gretchen eased off the accelerator.

  "Okay, speed up and change lanes." Nina swung her head and looked back over her shoulder. "Quick."

  Gretchen followed her aunt's direction. "What's going on?"

  "We have a tail," Nina announced, her voice edging up an octave.

  Gretchen glanced in her rearview mirror and studied the traffic behind them. "I don't see how that's possible," she said.

  "I agree," Nina said. "You drive like you're trying to win the Grand Prix. Who could keep up?"

  Look who's talking. Gretchen slowed for a changing light and eased to a stop. She checked her rearview mirror again.

  "I noticed it a few miles back," Nina said. "I've been keeping my eye on the side mirror. Do a few more lane switches to make sure."

  "Is it a Beemer?" Gretchen's first thought was that Steve hadn't been around the entire afternoon. He was bound to show up soon.

  "No, it's kind of nondescript. Maybe a VW Jetta. It's black."

  The traffic light changed, and Gretchen edged her bumper up to the next car. Nina reached over and blew the horn.

  "Take it easy," Gretchen said, pushing her aunt's hand away.

  Traffic cleared, and Gretchen cut into another lane without signaling. A car behind moved over, too.

  "Let's try to find out who it is," Gretchen said. "It could be Steve."

  "Now that you mention it, where has he been all day?"

  "With any luck, he gave up and went back to Boston."

  Another lane opened, and Gretchen swerved into it.

  "The car's right behind us now," she said.

  Gretchen peered into the rearview mirror, trying to see the driver of the car behind them. But the approaching dusk made the view murky. All she could see was a dark form.

  The car sidled closer, its bumper threateningly near to Gretchen's car.

  "If I was driving," Nina said, "I'd slam on the brakes. That would fix his wagon."

  "Maybe we should pull over, Nina."

  "Good idea. Then they can spill out of that car and gun us down without a fight. How many people are in there?"

  Nina answered her own question. "We don't know."

  Gretchen pointed to a busy strip mall on the right.

  "Let's turn in and drive up to that Chinese restaurant. See what happens."

  "I don't like this."

  "We can't try to outrun them," Gretchen said. "We'll have an accident."

  She turned right and slowly came to a stop in front of Yung Fu's China Buffet. The entrance to the restaurant was well lit.

  The black car followed and pulled up along the driver's side of the Impala. Nina squealed and ducked down, leaving Gretchen alone to face their pursuer. She lowered her window and watched the black car's passenger window slide down halfway.

  Gretchen strained to see the driver, but all she could see was part of a woman's face from the bridge of the nose and up. Large black sunglasses concealed her features.

  "You'll pay dearly for this," the woman snarled, hatred in her voice.

  Tires squealed as the driver gunned the motor and disappeared.

  "That was close," Nina said, practically lying across Gretchen's lap.

  "Thanks for the support," Gretchen said. "If I ever need backup again, I'll be sure to call you.

  "What did she mean, 'You'll pay dearly for this'?"

  "I don't have a clue."

  "What did she look like?"

  Gretchen tapped Nina lightly on the top of her cowering head. "Get off me, O Brave One. I couldn't see her. She didn't roll the window all the way down. Dark glasses, dark hair. Could have been April or Bonnie, and I wouldn't have known it."

  "I need a drink." Nina rose to a sitting position. "A mai tai sounds good."

  "We might as well eat," Gretchen said. "The police are probably at Ronny's trailer anyway."

  "True, that's a point I hadn't considered," Nina admitted. "I don't know about you, but I have the creeps over this whole thing, and I'd rather not be in Ronnie's trailer in the dark. We can run over there another time."

  They entered the Chinese restaurant, and after ordering mai tais, they sat in silence for a few minutes while sipping their drinks.

  "I'm having Chinese broccoli in oyster sauce," Nina said, after perusing the menu.

  Gretchen shook her head. "No oyster sauce for you. You're a vegan, remember?"

  "What's wrong with oyster sauce? Is it really oysters?"

  Gretchen sighed. "Why don't you give up? You'll never be a vegan. Do something realistic, like giving up red meat. Or refuse to eat mammals."

  Nina clapped her hands. "That's a wonderful idea."

  "Two Chinese broccolis in oyster sauce," Gretchen said to the waiter, relieved that Nina's vegan days were behind her.

  "Maybe our tail was that floozy of a summer intern,"

  Nina said. "You know, the one that-"

  Gretchen cut her off. "I know which one you mean. There's only one intern in my life. One too many. Steve said he broke it off with Courtney after I found out about them."

  "Then she has a good motive to chase you down."

  Steve's duplicity had been t
he reason Gretchen left Boston permanently, and a good enough reason to end their going-nowhere relationship. Had Courtney followed him to Phoenix?

  "Breaking it off before you found out would have been better for him," Nina said. "He might have had a chance."

  "No," Gretchen said. "Resisting completely would have been better. A college kid, can you believe it?"

  Dinners came, and Gretchen poured tea for both of them.

  After they had eaten, they broke open their fortune cookies.

  Nina read hers first: " 'A person of words and not deeds is like a garden full of weeds.' Humph," she said. "I don't get it. Who makes up this stuff? What's yours?"

  " 'Advice, when most needed, is least heeded.' "

  Gretchen stuffed the bit of paper into her purse and said,

  "Tomorrow has to be a better day."

  Gretchen sat at the worktable and tried to forget the disturbing events of the last few days. Steve's reappearance in her life, the loss of her Ginnys and her money, Brett's accident, Ronny Beam's violent murder, her missing knife found in his back, the mysterious package containing the Kewpie, and a confrontation with the enraged woman. Gretchen hated confrontation.

  Steve had called while they were at the Chinese restaurant, and she had turned off her cell phone when she saw his number on the caller ID. She planned on leaving it off until sometime tomorrow.

  She intentionally didn't check the kitchen answering machine either before retreating to the workshop, since she suspected he had called the house as well.

  The house was so quiet. Daisy's bedroom door was closed, and she decided not to disturb her. Gretchen couldn't imagine having to find a place to sleep outdoors every night. Park benches couldn't be comfortable. No wonder Daisy always slept right through her visits to Gretchen. Gretchen embraced the silence of the cozy room, welcomed it after the brouhaha that always surrounded largerthan-life Nina. Nimrod dozed on his bed, and the nocturnal Wobbles sat on the table next to her, his eyes closed and a deep, throaty purr rumbling from inside of him.

  She ran her hand through his silky black fur from head to tip of tail and thought about the hobby knife found protruding from Ronny's back. Her knife. Ronny was as abrasive as a Brillo pad, but who would have killed him? Even if Steve had taken her knife, he hadn't even met Ronny when it disappeared.