Gretchen Birch Boxed Set (Books 1-4)

by Deb Baker

  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? Sara 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.

  Chapter 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 grew 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 that,” Gretchen said loudly and firmly. “After Mat’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.

  “Ditto,” Caroline echoed.

  Gretchen gave in to temptation but spoke gently, in consideration of her mother’s feelings for the dead woman. “According to Matt, Charlie was murdered. She was poisoned with a concentrated dose of nicotine. A lethal dose was in her coffee.”

  Nina gaspe
d, dramatically. “Nicotine can kill just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “I’ve heard of dogs eating nicotine patches and dropping dead.”

  “Matt said nicotine is more poisonous that arsenic.”

  “I think it’s used as a pesticide,” Caroline said, her face pale.

  Nina drummed a fingernail on her chin. “Charlie’s murder had to be premeditated then.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that. You’re becoming quite deductive.” Gretchen could see a hiker climbing steadily up Camelback Mountain and wished she were doing the same thing instead of discussing murder.

  “Do you think the killer wanted her to die during the parade right in front of all those people?”

  “You’re the psychic. You tell me.”

  Nina shrugged and didn’t answer. Her aunt’s powers short-circuited without any advance warning.

  Nimrod flew through his doggie door, ears flapping wildly. He leapt into the pool, paddled in circles, climbed out, and shook water all over the women’s legs.

  “Watch what I taught him,” Nina said, clapping her hands to get his attention.

  Gretchen knew she was trying to restore a lighter mood. “Come, Nimrod, let’s show Momma your new trick.” Nina moved her right hand in what must have been a sit command, because Nimrod sat down and dutifully watched her for the next order.

  “Smile,” Nina commanded.

  Nimrod pulled his lips back, exposing his teeth.

  “That’s a pretty grotesque smile,” Gretchen said, giggling.

  “He has nice teeth, though,” Caroline observed, cheerfully, but Gretchen could see tears welling in her eyes from the recent news of the circumstances surrounding her friend’s death.

  “Good boy.” Nina gave him a doggy treat. “We’re still working on the smaller details.”

  “We’re still waiting for your secret, Nina,” Gretchen said. “Share.”

  Nina fluffed her hair and cleared her throat, preparing for her stage entrance. “Bonnie, as you know, lives for gossip and spends most of her time tracking it down. She overhead her son speaking on the phone.” Nina paused. “I can just see her, slinking around, listening at doors, can’t you?”

  “And?” Gretchen said.

  “He thinks the two deaths are related. Charlie and her sister, Sara.”

  That was it? The extent of Nina’s information? “I already know that,” Gretchen said.

  Nina raised a perfect eyebrow.

  “I forgot to tell you. Seriously,” Gretchen said. “I wasn’t holding out. I forgot.”

  “You two are way ahead of me,” Caroline said, sitting up straight. “Why kill both of them? And why wait a year to murder the second one?”

  “The killer will turn out to be a family member,” Nina said. “A nut…ooh…sorry about the unintended pun. You know, nut and all. Anyway, it must be a family member who is crazy and has some knowledge of poisons.”

  “That person is heartless, brutally so,” Caroline said. “Both women must have suffered terribly before they died. Poor Charlie.”

  “That was the intent,” Nina said. “Don’t you think? To make them suffer.”

  “It appears so,” Caroline agreed.

  “I’m sure the police are doing everything they can.” Gretchen looked at her mother, worried about her.

  “I have more to tell you.” Nina leaned forward. “Bonnie has sharp ears. She heard Matt talking about a miniature peanut butter jar.”

  “Peanuts killed Sara,” Caroline said.

  “Exactly. Anaphylactic shock,” Nina said. “Her entire body went into a serious allergic reaction.”

  Gretchen was surprised at Nina’s knowledge. Her aunt wasn’t exactly the medical type.

  “I looked it up on the Internet before I came over,” Nina said. “Don’t look so surprised.”

  “I’m not,” Gretchen fibbed. “Tell me more.”

  “The peanut isn’t actually a true nut. Did you know that?”

  Gretchen and Caroline shook their heads.

  “It’s really a legume, and a ton of people are allergic to it. Some people can have a life-threatening reaction just by inhaling the odor of a peanut.”

  “You sound like a walking encyclopedia,” Caroline said.

  Nina looked flattered. “See? I’m good for something.”

  Gretchen stood, leaned over her aunt, and gave her a big hug. “What would we do without you?”

  “I ask myself that everyday.”

  “Where did Matt find the miniature peanut butter jar?” Gretchen asked.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” said Nina. “Brace yourself.” She paused for effect, her jeweled fingers fluttering. “The police found the little jar under Charlie’s dead body.”

  Gretchen stared at her.

  “Maybe the killer is leaving a calling card,” Nina hypothesized. “Or he want to be caught.”

  “Gretchen, dear daughter,” Caroline said. “Matt might be right. It could be very dangerous to go there.”

  “Both sisters are dead,” Gretchen reasoned. “There’s no reason to believe anyone else will die.”

  “Maybe the brother killed them?” Nina suggested.

  “Not likely,” Caroline said. “He has serious health problems. Charlie had a son, but they were estranged. I wonder if he knows about his mother’s death.” She paused in thought. “When Sara died, the police determined that the banana bread must have come from a farmer’s market. Sara went to various markets every Saturday morning. The authorities looked for a vendor who might have sold it to her, but never found one.”

  “If you want to abandon the room boxes, I’ll understand,” Gretchen said. “Or we could move the project to our workshop where we’d feel safer.”

  Caroline sighed heavily. “Charlie worked hard on the room boxes, she said. “They were her final artistic endeavor. I want to restore them more than ever.”

  Gretchen took a sip of coffee. It tasted bitter when she thought of Charlie dying after drinking poisoned coffee. “Should we move everything here?”

  “No,” Caroline said. “There’s more elbow room at the shop. And with all of us working together, we can wrap it up quickly.”

  Gretchen remembered the authoritative way Matt had ordered her away. She hadn’t planned to quit, no matter what her mother and the others decided. She wouldn’t let him control her that way.

  Over my dead body, she thought.

  Chapter 9

  Gretchen stared at the tiny penny doll’s painted eyes as though she might find the answer to Charlie Maize’s death in them. Why had the woman constructed room boxes containing bloody stains? Why furnish them with killing objects? Had that been her way of finding peace within the boxes’ confines?

  The answers eluded her. Unlike Gretchen, and the penny doll’s eyes didn’t give up any secret.

  “The keys to Mini Maize are on the kitchen table,” Gretchen said to Nina, who buzzed into the workshop with her canine entourage. “I need to spend a few hours working here. I’ve promised to complete several dolls before the end of the day. I’ll join you as soon as I can.

  “Where is Caroline?”

  “Mom’s running errands,” she answered. “She’ll be at the shop as soon as she can.”

  Gretchen scanned her basket cases, those dolls that needed extensive reworking, the real fixer-uppers. She’d made a commitment to repair a basket case for a customer today.

  “I can’t start without you,” Nina said, with a small whine. “I wouldn’t know what to do.”

  “Do the same thing you did yesterday. Figure out where the pieces go. The sooner we put them together, the better for Mom.”

  “We?” Nina complained. “Is there a mouse in my pocket?”

  “I won’t be far behind you.”

  “What about the danger? You know, the killer?”

  “We decided last night we are perfectly safe working at Mini Maize.”

  “I thought we would stick together.”

  “Make sure you lock the shop doo
r behind you. I’ll call Detective Kline and ask him to keep an eye out for suspicious characters.”

  “How old is this Detective Kline?”

  Gretchen glanced at her aunt. “Why?”

  “Just wondering.”

  “He’s tall, intelligent, has a good sense of humor. He talked about karma last time I saw him.”

  Nina perked up. “Is he married?”

  Gretchen searched her memory. “I don’t know.” If he was single, she’d hook Nina up with the Scottsdale detective. Wouldn’t that be fun?

  Her aunt packed up. Nina carried as much doggie equipment as a family with twin babies. “Are you sure I’ll be okay.”

  “If you’re that worried, call April and ask her to go over instead.” Gretchen picked up a German dolly face doll and looked at the work tag attached to its arm. “Go on home and let her handle it.”

  Gretchen glanced at her aunt. That wasn’t very thoughtful. Why did I say it like that.

  Nina’s eyes turned into narrow slits. “I have to pick up Enrico first, then I’ll go to Mini Maize. I can manage just fine by myself, thank you very much.”

  Gretchen sighed. “What’s going on with you and April?”

  “Nothing’s going on. I don’t need her. After all, I’ll only be there alone for an hour or two. Right?”

  “Maybe less.”

  “And I’ll have Tutu.”

  “The guard dog.”

  “And I’ll keep the door locked and won’t let anyone in.”

  “Great.” Gretchen bent over the German doll, and a few minutes later she heard the door slam.

  Quiet at last. Sometimes she wondered why she became so claustrophobic when she was around other people for any length of time. No one else seemed to have that problem. Nina, for example, thrived on hordes of humanity; the thicker the brew, the better.

  Gretchen looked longingly out the window at Camelback Mountain. She was too busy for a hike up the mountain, but she needed fresh air and Arizona wildlife to maintain her equilibrium. She felt the stress building. Repairing dolls was another perfect escape from the crowded planet. Dolls didn’t talk back. No complaining, no arguing, no whining.