Goodbye Dolly (27 page)

Worse, Detective Albright sat in a blue unmarked police car in the exact spot where her Toyota Echo should be.

"Where is my car?" Gretchen demanded, hands on hips, when he climbed out of his car. "Did you have it towed away?" She was breathing hard. "And where are Nina and April?"

She saw a gleam of amusement in his eyes, a hint of Chrome cologne infusing the air, his smile as dazzling as ever.

"You set off the security alarm system," he said. She glanced sharply up and down the street. No sign of her traitorous cohorts. His deceptive good looks failed to impress her today. She had learned that his heart was cold.

"Where are they?"

"So you think I had your car towed away with your aunt inside? And with all those critters? The pet protection groups would be all over me for animal abuse." He laughed easily. "It's much less dramatic than that. It seems that April needed something to eat. I, public servant that I am..." He placed his right hand over his heart as though pledging allegiance. "I offered to escort you home to join them, where they promised they would have a fine dining experience waiting for you. But if you want to stay here..." He dangled the end of the sentence like a fisherman setting the hook, "and face the consequences..."

The alarm continued to screech.

She watched the gate guard run for the main entrance, abandoning his station.

"It's entirely up to you," Matt said, leaning against his car.

Gretchen wrenched the car door open and got in without another word. Talk about choosing between two evils. At least she had some experience with this one, who used his position to brutalize his victims. The other-she glanced back as they sped away-was a complete unknown. She had no wish to meet the guard again, or Chiggy. If she had wanted to trip Chiggy's trigger, she couldn't have done better. She just hoped that next time, when the gun, or in this case the pepper spray, went off, she'd be safely out of the way.

Gretchen understood why the doll collector might be upset that the Ginny dolls had been sold if she'd made it clear that she wanted to keep them. Gretchen's mother had a vast collection of dolls she kept for sentimental reasons, and Gretchen knew how her mother would feel if they were lost. She had a few herself that were very special. But the reaction when Chiggy heard Duanne's name was a big surprise.

What was the story with that guy?

"Your aunt Nina said you'd be hungry," Matt said.

"How about I take you out for a late lunch? It has the potential to be much better than what awaits you at home. I think April was headed for a Big Mac and large fries."

"No thanks, I have things to do. Take me home." If Nina wanted to get back at her, she certainly picked an effective way.

"Have it your way. But first I need to talk to you."

"Then talk."

He kept his eyes on the road and didn't reply. She let the silence hang and watched the familiar scenery through her window. Date palm trees lined the boulevards, and, as always, Camelback Mountain towered over the city, its red clay humps assuring her that they were headed in the right direction.

As they approached her mother's house, Matt abruptly turned toward the canyon and the trail leading up Camelback Mountain. He drove into the visitors' parking lot at the base and stopped. "I want to talk to you alone," he said, laying a hand on her arm when she grabbed for the door.

"Without your entire ensemble hanging on every word. I'll take you home in a minute."

"I can walk from here." Or run if she had to.

"Peter Finch was attacked this morning."

Gretchen jerked her head in his direction. "What? What did you say?"

"I think you heard me." He watched her with an intense gaze.

"What happened?"

"Shot in the chest."

"Is he dead?"

"No, he'll live, but it was close. He's unconscious, so I haven't been able to talk to him. All of his camera and computer equipment is missing. Whoever did this took the entire computer."

"Why are you telling me this?" Gretchen felt like she might faint. "What do I have to do with Peter Finch?"

"Gretchen, you have to tell me what's going on. Every time I follow a lead, you've been there ahead of me. I've started carrying a picture of you around. I show it to people, and they recognize you."

"Who recognizes me?" Gretchen demanded. "Tell me who."

What was the point of the picture? Was he going to arrest her for Peter's murder?

Through the car's window, she stared at the mountain. No, he would have taken her in to the station. He wanted information to use against someone. Her... or...

"Ronny Beam's neighbor in the trailer park recognized you instantly," Matt said. "The security guard at the senior home we just left had a few choice words to describe you. And a tenant in Peter Finch's apartment building saw you entering there yesterday."

"That's ridiculous. And where did you get a picture of me?"

"You forget that my mother is the president of the doll club. She gave me one that she took at the last meeting. Very flattering."

Good old Bonnie, always helpful. That must be going over well with the doll club members. It would make a particularly choice topic for Curves. She didn't know which was worse-the doll collectors thinking Matt was interested in her romantically or thinking he considered her a murder suspect.

"The person who identified me at Peter Finch's made a mistake."

After what had happened to Albert Thoreau, how could she trust Matt enough to tell him anything? Albert had been beaten, and she hadn't forgotten that a cop was responsible for it. Matt? Or one of his partners?

Why was she always attracted to the wrong men?

"If your fingerprints show up in his apartment," Matt said. "You'll have some explaining to do." He got out, walked around the front of the car, and opened her door.

"Come on. Let's go for a walk."

Gretchen glared at him but got out and looked up at the mountain. By the ripple of his muscles, he obviously worked out, but in a gym. Aerobically, he wasn't up to her level, thanks to her years of serious hiking. She could beat him any day in a climb up to the peak, and she could probably outpace him in a race. She felt safer out in the afternoon sunshine with a number of hikers traversing the mountain above her. Still, if Matt wanted to grill her, he shouldn't have stopped the car where she could see her house. No wonder he couldn't catch the killer; he couldn't even catch her. She hated to think what would happen if she waited for him to protect her.

She started out, headed for home instead of up the mountain. "Have it your way," he called out behind her.

"But I'm warning you, Gretchen, and this is a friendly warning that's about to become less so if you don't heed my words. Stay out of this. You don't know what you're getting into. And stay away from Percy O'Connor's sister. You're interfering with an investigation."

Gretchen almost stopped in her tracks, but, with a lot of effort, she willed her leaden legs to continue moving toward home. Percy O'Connor's sister?

Chiggy?

Nooooo.

Nina and April sat at the kitchen table surrounded by mounds of McDonald's bags.

"Hey," April said. "Sit down and eat." She moved her chair to make room. "You should have invited that handsome detective in."

Starving, Gretchen dug in, but she didn't taste the food. It could have been kibble, and she wouldn't have cared. All the connections and all the deaths. Three people who had been at Chiggy's house before the estate auction were dead or injured: Brett, Ronny, and Peter. Two of them gone, the other barely alive. And Percy, connected by family to Chiggy, also dead. How did Steve fit in? Steve valued money above everything else, and diamonds would be a huge motivator. Was he the killer, or wasn't he? Her feelings vacillated exactly as they used to whenever she tried to decide whether or not to leave him. Yes, then no, then... The same teeter-totter effect.

Since Chiggy's poor health precluded pursuing and killing large men, the only suspects left seemed to be Steve and Howie. But wasn't Howie at the auction block when Brett was shoved into the street? Howie
did
take breaks, but Gretchen thought for sure he had been auctioneering when it happened.

She needed to talk to Steve, find Duanne Wilson, and discover who was sending her cryptic threats inside of Kewpie dolls.

"Is Daisy back yet?" Gretchen asked, seeing no sign that the homeless woman had returned.

"I peeked in her room, and she's not there," April said.

"What a disaster. Have you seen it? She has piles of trash from that shopping cart lying everywhere."

"She gave me strict orders to keep everyone out."

April slurped the last of her soda. "I can see why."

"She's pretty demanding, for a guest," Nina said. Gretchen and Nina made their first eye contact.

"I'm sorry I was so angry," Nina said suddenly, as if she had been working up to an apology and needed to get it over with quickly before she backed out. "April helped me realize that you were trying to protect me because you love me. I love you, too."

"And I'm sorry if I ruined your date. At the time, I didn't care. I only cared about your safety. As it turns out, I don't think Eric had anything to do with the murders."

"Now, before this gets any mushier," April said, "tell us what happened with Chiggy."

Gretchen related the story, ending with Chiggy calling security and trying to blast her with pepper spray.

"I knew going to see her was a bad idea the minute I heard it," Nina said, joining the I-told-you-so association.

"It was worth questioning her just for her reaction."

Gretchen chewed a cold French fry. "Duanne Wilson has something to do with this."

"I wonder why she attacked you," April asked.

"She was afraid," Gretchen said. "Very afraid. I don't think she's directly involved, though."

"She does have terrible health," April said, as though her poor health eliminated her.

Gretchen leaned forward. "Wait till you hear the rest."

"There's more?" April exclaimed. "You've been busy."

"Chiggy is Percy's sister."

Nina squealed. "How do you know that?"

"Matt Albright told me."

"Percy's sister," April said. "Imagine that."

"I'm so glad you're working with the police," Nina said, brightly. "Detective Albright will figure it out. He has resources."

"You're not kidding," April agreed. "His buns, his..."

She started giggling.

"Does he have any suspects yet?" Nina asked. "I mean besides Steve, who we know didn't do it."

"Suspects? Ah... not yet." Gretchen couldn't say for a fact, but
she
was pretty sure
she
was the latest suspect. And she wasn't about to tell I-told-you-so that news. Nina and April waved goodbye, leaving a vacuum of silence in the house. Gretchen called Information from the workshop bench and waited for the connection to go through.

"Don't hang up," Gretchen said quickly into the phone. They were the first three words out of her mouth. She said them again from the stool she perched on inside the workshop. "Please don't hang up."

"I'm paying my attorney a lot of money to advise me,"

Steve said. "And he insisted that I stay away from you."

"You're far away from me. Lots of airwaves between us. Your attorney can't complain. Anyway, I'm glad they released you."

He sighed heavily into the phone. "What do you want?"

"Just wondering how you are," Gretchen said. Partly true. She did wonder.

"Considering that I have to stay in Phoenix until this is resolved and consequently had to find other attorneys to handle my clients and caseload-and considering that I've been charged with murdering Ronny Beam in spite of the lack of evidence and glaring proof that the knife in his back belonged to you-and considering that your new boyfriend happens to be the one gathering evidence against me, I couldn't be better."

No bitterness there.

"At least you're free for the time being," she said.

"Things could be worse."

"Things could always be worse. A boulder from the mountain could fall and crush me. I'm not sure, though, that crushed bones would be worse. Death might, but even that's starting to sound more appealing."

An awkward silence fell between them, their onceupon-a-time comfortable familiarity a distant memory. Gretchen cleared her throat. "Steve, I'm really sorry about what's happened."

"About my legal situation or about us?"

"Both. And I'm trying to help you. I discovered some things that might clear you."

"Like what?"

"I don't want to tell you right now because I have some loose ends."
An understatement, if I ever heard one.
"Letme work on it a little longer. But I need to know if you were at Chiggy Kent's house the day before the auction."

"Why?"

"Were you?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"It could be important."

"I haven't told the police that I was there. The only one who knows is my attorney. I don't know how you found out. But I suppose you shared that information with your detective?"

"I haven't. Why don't you want him to know?"

"Because Ronny Beam was at the house that day, too. I wasn't introduced to him, and we didn't exchange words. I didn't even recognize him on the day of the doll show until afterward, but the police will try to use that against me if they can."

"I'll keep your secret, if you tell me what I need to know."

"What?"

"I need to know why you were at Chiggy Kent's house."

Gretchen fiddled idly with her repair tools.

"Why do you want to know?" he asked again reluctantly.

"Please, tell me."