by Deb Baker
7
From the sidewalk in front of Mini Maize, Gretchen watched the Scottsdale squad car pull to the curb. After a long workday, the others had gone their separate ways. One went north, another south, finishing the day as they had started, as polar opposites.
Caroline had waited around until Gretchen shooed her off. Her mother had enough on her mind without dealing with Gretchen's problems as well.
They never suspected that she had managed to lock herself out of her car. At least it hadn't been running. She'd done that once, too.
It was a good thing she had a little extra puppy food in a plastic container in her purse, or Nimrod would be complaining loudly and insistently by now. Come to think of it, she had a little of everything in her purse. Except the proper tools to break into her car.
Gretchen could imagine her aunt's reaction if she knew about the lockout, especially with Nina in such a snit. She would have had to listen to a long lecture about the condition of her workshop, and her purse, and who knew what else. Officer Kline stepped out of the police vehicle with a long rod in his hand. "Not you again," he said, wryly. "Tomorrow, when I transfer out, the department will have to hire another full-time officer to deal with you."
He had a twinkle in his eye. What a ham.
"Rumor has it you're impersonating a traffic cop," she said with a smile.
"Never trust a Phoenix detective. He'll expose you every time."
"How did you know Matt told me?"
"Albright is like my Siamese twin. I can't get rid of him no matter what I do. We're attached at the brain."
"Ah, two with the mental capacity of one."
"Do you want help, or should I leave you standing on the curb?"
Gretchen moved aside.
He inserted the long metal tool through the top of the driver's side window. The lock popped open. "There you go," he said.
"Thank you so much. I'm embarrassed."
"Don't be. It happens all the time. It was your karma for the day. Couldn't be changed." He stepped back and took a good look at the car. "Look at that."
Gretchen followed his gaze. The tire was flat. He pushed on it. "Not much air left. You must have driven over something, a piece of glass or a nail."
Gretchen scanned the street for the Wife. It was exactly the kind of thing Kayla Albright was capable of. The woman had been stalking her since the moment Gretchen had met Matt. She'd been relatively harmless, until now. This was getting much more serious.
"Can you tell if my tire has been tampered with?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Hard to say. Maybe an auto mechanic would know."
"Now what?"
"Now you wait for the service truck, which I'm going to call for you."
"Can't you change it for me?"
"Puh-leeze," he said. "What you citizens expect."
Gretchen stared at the tire, then out at the street. She saw Matt Albright trot across Scottsdale Road midblock and step onto the curb, his dark hair wind-tossed, his face handsome and tanned but taut. Edgy.
Then he spotted her and smiled. "What's going on?" he said, approaching.
"Do you know how to change a tire?" Gretchen asked, pointing at the flat.
"Hey, Kline," Matt called out to the Scottsdale detective, who was digging in the squad's trunk. "I'll handle it from here."
"You don't know what you're getting yourself into."
"She's that bad, huh?"
"You know it." The Scottsdale detective hopped into the police vehicle and drove off.
Matt leaned up against her car and crossed his arms. The tension she had seen on his face when he crossed the street was gone. He smiled at her.
"I hate to spoil your day," Gretchen said. "But your wife punctured my tire."
His smile slid sideways. "Are you sure?"
"Not exactly. I mean, I didn't see her do it, but who else would do something so vicious?"
"You're awfully suspicious, considering she hasn't done anything to you up until now."
"Stalking me doesn't count?"
"She followed you a few times, I threatened to lock her up, she said she wouldn't bother you again."
"I can see the warning was effective," Gretchen said, pointing again at the tire.
"You probably drove over a nail." He bent over the tire to examine it. "I tell you what. I'll change it for you. Do you have a spare?"
Gretchen nodded, opening the trunk.
"And I'll buy a new one to replace the flat. How's that?"
"You're agreeable tonight."
"I hate to admit it, but it looks like someone did slash your tire. See here." He ran his fingers along the tire. Gretchen bent down. Sure enough, there was a long slit in the rubber.
"We can't be sure Kayla did it." A sparkly smile as he stood up, his dark eyes locking onto hers. He was only a few inches taller than Gretchen's five eight. Just the way she liked a man. "But I'll buy you dinner, too," he said, "as compensation." He reached to give Nimrod a pat on the head. "We'll drop Nimrod at your house first."
"He still knows his 'hide' command." The detective was standing way too close.
"Is that a yes?" Matt moved to the trunk and pulled out the spare tire.
"It's a maybe. I'm worried about the rest of my property. I wouldn't want my house to burn down while we were dining unaware."
"I thought you had nerves of steel. What happened?
Don't you like a little excitement in your life?"
"You'll have to assume responsibility for her actions."
"I always have. Is that a yes?"
"Um. ." Gretchen grinned. "Entice me some more."
She watched him jack up the back of the car, muscles rippling, not an ounce of fat anywhere.
"I have information about Charlie. I'd like your take on it."
He knew just how to reel her in. She pretended to waver.
"Okay," she said, ignoring the sensible, barely audible little voice that was trying to remind her that he was still married, and his wife was certifiably nuts.
"What are you looking for?" Matt said, after watching her dig through her purse.
"My sunglasses. I don't remember where I left them."
"They're on your head."
Gretchen lifted a hand to the top of her head. Sure enough, there they were. She pulled the glasses down over her eyes, then realized the sun had almost set. Matt Albright could really rattle her cage.
"Okay," Gretchen said, over after-dinner coffee beside her swimming pool. "I've waited long enough."
Caroline walked past the patio door and peeked out, giving Gretchen a thumbs-up. Gretchen pretended not to notice.
"I didn't want to spoil dinner by talking shop," Matt said.
"Understandable. I've already promised to keep anything you say confidential, so tell me."
"I'm telling you for a specific reason. You absolutely must keep it to yourself. No one needs to know how she was murdered until after we've had time to investigate. I won't go into gory autopsy details. The results were clear, though. Charlie Maize was poisoned."
Gretchen blinked. "Poisoned?"
"We almost missed it."
"A poison showed up during the autopsy?"
"Almost didn't. Nicotine leaves the body quickly. The report might have been inconclusive, except for the suspicions of the doctor at the scene. According to the ME, we got lucky."
"I don't understand."
"Like I said, giving you graphic details isn't necessary."
Matt leaned back in the patio chair, crossed his ankle over his knee, and gazed out at Camelback Mountain.
"I'm tougher than you think," Gretchen said. Yeah, right. This from the woman who faints at the sight of an insect. Matt's gaze shifted from the mountain to her. "The poison was in her coffee. We analyzed the dregs from a cup in her shop. Charlie's fingerprints were all over it, and the coffee was loaded with nicotine."
"Nicotine? In her coffee?" Gretchen stared at her own cup of coffee. "Nicotine is poisonous?"
Matt nodded. "She had a lethal dose, well over the sixty milligrams necessary to kill somebody."
"But how? I've never heard of anything like this before."
"A few drops of pure nicotine can easily kill a human being. It's more deadly than arsenic or strychnine."
He took a sip of coffee. Gretchen pushed hers away.
"According to the medical examiner, it's tasteless. Once Charlie drank it, she would have had difficulty breathing. Then she would have begun to have convulsions. Her diaphragm would have been paralyzed. Then death. All in pretty rapid secession. The whole process could have taken less than five minutes."
Gretchen made a gurgling sound.
"Sorry," he said. "But you wanted to know."
"Who would do something like that?"
Matt shrugged. "She could have poisoned herself, according to the medical examiner."
"You think it was suicide?"
"No. There are much more pleasant ways to kill yourself."
"Then you think she was murdered."
"Looks that way to me."
Nimrod flew through his doggy door, ran past them, and dove into the swimming pool. Matt jumped up and followed him to the edge of the pool. He looked back quizzically at Gretchen and kicked off his sandals. "Do I have to jump in to rescue him?" he said.
Gretchen laughed. "Poodles are water dogs. My biggest challenge is keeping him out of the pool."
Nimrod paddled in circles before swimming to the pool stairs and climbing out. He trotted over to Matt and shook water on his legs.
"He's also a hunting dog," Gretchen said.
"What does he hunt? Ants?" He laughed at the tiny puppy.
"He's a ferocious hunter. Rubber balls, socks, my cat Wobbles."
The tomcat sat in a window overlooking the pool. While they watched, he rose from his position and stretched.
"He gets around well on three legs," Matt said. "You never told me his story."
"I was crossing a street in Boston when it happened. A pickup truck swerved around the corner and hit him, then it took off. I rushed him to the vet, but I never found out where Wobbles lived, although I put up posters and called the animal shelters. We've been together ever since the accident."
Matt slipped his sandals back on and sat down. "How are you adjusting to life in Phoenix? Do you miss Boston?"
"I don't miss it at all. I love the mountains and the desert air. February is wonderful."
They sat quietly for a moment. Gretchen had called Boston home for most of her life. But with her mother and aunt in Phoenix, and after a bad breakup with her longterm boyfriend, Steve, Phoenix had seemed like the perfect solution.
Matt sipped his coffee. "I want you and the others out,"
he said quietly.
"Out?"
"Out of the shop. Stay away from Mini Maize."
"That's ridiculous. Charlie's brother gave us permission."
"I'm insisting."
"You sound just like Steve. He was a control freak, too." Gretchen narrowed her eyes. Who did Matt think he was?
"This isn't about control," Matt said. "I'm concerned about your safety. Do you know about Charlie's sister and how she died?"
Gretchen felt herself growing angry. He isn't Steve, she tried to remind herself. "Sara died from a peanut allergy,"
she said. "She ate banana bread that was made from peanut flour."
"Sara wore a Medic Alert tag as a precaution. Strange, don't you think? That she went to all the trouble of wearing the tag, but she forgot to stock up on epinephrine? Not a single dose anywhere in her home."
"You think the deaths are related?"
"Yes. Want to hear the specifics of Sara's death?"
Gretchen shook her head. "Not really."
He continued anyway. "Shortness of breath, serious drop in blood pressure, swelling of her tongue until-"
"That's enough," she said. Was Matt's theory correct?
Had the two women really been murdered-one poisoned, the other. . well. . poisoned, too, by someone who knew about her severe peanut allergy?
"I can help," The same woman who fainted over bugs was about to offer to go up against a creature deadlier than any black widow spider. Gretchen heard the stubbornness in her voice. "I'm in a unique position. I can question doll collectors and dealers without drawing suspicion to myself. I'm one of them. And while we are restoring the room boxes, I'll pay attention. Something might turn up."
Like tiny bloody weapons!
"This isn't one of your reality shows," Matt argued.
"This is real life, and it isn't that canned."
"I'm going to do it."
She had let a man define her once. It wouldn't happen again.
"You're impossible," Matt said lightly, but Gretchen noticed the tension in his facial muscles as he worked his jaw.
"The more I insist, the more you're going to resist. Am I right?"
Gretchen smiled like Mona Lisa.
8
Tuesday morning Gretchen and Nina sat on patio chairs outside the cabana, sipping coffee, eating chocolate croissants, and admiring the warm February morning. The sun glowed, illuminating the red clay of Camelback Mountain. Caroline joined them.
"You look well-rested," Nina noted.
Caroline smoothed back a few strands of silver hair, the aftereffects of chemotherapy in her battle against breast cancer. When her hair had grown back, it came in this amazing color. Six years and counting since her last treatment. Gretchen's mother was one of the success stories.
"Perfect weather at last," Gretchen said, looking into the sparkling blue pool water.
"February is the month of love in Phoenix," Nina said somewhat slyly.
"Is that your way of telling us you have a man in your life?" Caroline asked her sister.
"Don't be silly. I'm talking about Gretchen and Matt Albright." Nina stretched her arms over her head, reminding Gretchen of Wobbles right after a long nap. Nina was very much like a sleek cat. Today, she wore a crinkled ivory peasant skirt and a floral tank top. Tutu wore a scarf around her precocious neck. It matched the material in Nina's top.
"You're making too much of a simple dinner," Gretchen said. "It was strictly business." Which was true. She'd gone about the business of putting Matt Albright in his place. He had treated her like a ditzy female who couldn't take care of herself. She would show him.
Nina squinted at Gretchen with her penetrating hazel eyes. "You have a secret. I can feel it."
Caroline laughed. "Sis, you never fail to amaze me with your intuition."
"But she's wrong," Gretchen protested.
Caroline leaned back, holding her coffee cup with both hands.
"Tell," Nina demanded.
Gretchen looked at her aunt in amazement. "What makes you think I'm keeping something from you?"
The information Matt had shared with Gretchen was bursting to explode. Had her aunt sensed it? Or was it Gretchen's feelings for him that her aunt was picking up on? This was crazy!
"My psychic abilities are at their peak today," Nina insisted. "A good night's sleep and two cups of coffee do wonders for my powers. Now, tell."
"Last night Matt told me to quit," Gretchen said. "He wants us to stop going to Charlie's shop."
"But why?"
"It's that whole guy thing," Gretchen said, wondering if Nina would "see" through to the secret Matt had shared about the deaths of the sisters. What good is having a secret if no one knows you have it? "You know how it works," she continued. "Power plays begin right at the beginning."
"The beginning! Does that mean you've decided to have a real relationship with Bonnie's son?" Nina jumped up and did a little jig. "Wait until the Curves group hears about this."
"They'll do backflips," Caroline agreed.
"NO! Please don't tell them," Gretchen said loudly and firmly. "After Matt's demanding attitude, I'm considering writing men out of my life. They're not worth the effort."
"What rubbish," Nina said.
; "I'm through with men for. . um. . for a year."
Gretchen said impulsively. She liked the sound of that. A year to get her life in order, a year to heal and regain faith in men. Her conversation last night with Matt had her doubting her ability to establish a real relationship. If it meant kowtowing to some man's demands, forget it. She'd been there, done that.
"I give you six months," Caroline said.
"Three tops," Nina wagered.
"Is that a challenge?"
Her mother laughed, a throaty, husky chuckle just like Nina's. "Not at all. You and Matt are cute together. I'm rooting for him. Stop comparing him to that jerk, Steve. How could you have known he was cheating? He fooled all of us."
Unfaithful, conniving Steve. Gretchen couldn't understand what she saw in the loser with a capital L in the first place. Time had brought out the worst in him.
"Your strength has certainly been tested in the last year," Caroline said. "Life throws curve balls. Look at what happened to me? A malignant tumor. I thought I'd die, but I didn't. You'll come back even stronger."
Gretchen bit into a chocolate croissant and thought about Matt Albright. He was a little too sure of himself, a little too arrogant for her taste. And what was her taste in men? After seven years in a stagnant relationship, did she even know? She wasn't about to rebound with the first man who walked by.
"That isn't your true secret," Nina singsonged. "There's more. Come on," she said, egging Gretchen over the edge.
"I'll tell you what I found out, if you tell me what you know."
"You have a secret, too?"
Nina nodded smugly.
The best part of having a secret, Gretchen decided on the spot, was sharing it with someone else. What could it hurt? Besides, her family members should know all the details so they could decide for themselves if they wanted to continue working on the room boxes.
"Promise not to tell anyone," Gretchen said. But she had also promised to keep the information confidential and here she was, about to blab. But this was her aunt, she reasoned. And her mother. Family.
"I won't tell a soul," Nina said, crossing her heart.
