Dolly Departed Part 13

"Caroline can't come," Nina said. "She has a tip on acollection of antique dolls that's for sale. She's driving to Fountain Hills to look at them."

The piles on the card table were still as they had been yesterday. After Gretchen's encounter with Ryan, all work on the room boxes had ceased for the day. "Let's each take a room box," she said, "and see what we come up with. I think we can wrap this up in a few hours."

They settled in. Gretchen was continually amazed at Charlie's gift for interior design with the tiny, detailed pieces, the unity of her composition, and the precision of the scale. Gretchen paused from her work on the backyard scene to watch Britt and Nina. Britt had chosen the Victorian bedroom scene, carefully placing each item where she thought it might have gone. By the hint of a smile on her face, Gretchen could tell she truly enjoyed working with the miniatures.

"I'm finished," April called, proudly showing them the orchard and church scene. "I found a blue velvet hat in my pile. I'm going to add it to the leftovers, since I don't know where it goes. I think it was made from a cardboard pattern. Isn't it cute?"

"Charlie used simple household supplies for many of her projects," Britt said to April, who hung on every word.

"She was very creative."

"Making minis would be fun, especially making the little dolls," April said. "I'd love to try it."

"I'm starting a baby sculpting cla.s.s soon. Why don't you sign up?"

"Count me in."

"Here comes someone I'd like you to meet," Britt called out, looking toward the door. "My daughter, Melany."

Britt's daughter was in her twenties, slightly overweight, and wore no makeup, not even mascara. She was frumpy next to her mother, who bustled over to give her daughter a kiss on the cheek. Gretchen couldn't see muchresemblance--Britt with her tailored blouse and immaculate French twist, Melany in rumpled shorts and a top that was way too tight.

"Bernard's been taken to the hospital," Melany said to her mother, an almost hostile expression on her face. "I thought you'd want to know."

"What happened?" Britt clutched her throat.

"A jar of bug juice exploded."

Had Gretchen heard her correctly? Bug juice? It sounded like an insect killer, or a name for summer camp juice drinks.

"Bug juice is a concoction Bernard uses," Melany said when she noticed the other women's lost expressions. "It turns new wood a grayish brown. He uses it to age wood details for his dollhouses."

"I warned him several times about mixing chemicals,"

Britt said. "Is he going to be all right?"

"I think so, but his arm was injured." The coldness was back in her voice. "The bug juice hit like shrapnel from a bomb. I had stopped at his house to deliver the miniature orchid bouquet for a wedding display, and his neighbor told me what happened."

"How awful," Britt said.

"What is this bug juice made from," Gretchen asked, "that it has the capacity to explode?"

"To get the effect he's looking for in the wood, he uses an old-timer's recipe," Britt explained. "He puts rusty nails in a gla.s.s jar, then pours vinegar over them. He's supposed to put the lid on loosely and leave it for a few weeks. If the lid is too tight, it can produce a gas, and the pressure builds."

"The poor old man," April said.

Britt picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder.

"Melany and I will check on him," she said. "We'll let you know."

After Britt and Melany left, Gretchen told Nina and April about the visit to Ryan's house.

"Do the police think he murdered his mother?" Nina asked.

"I don't know. We'll have to wait and see what happens, but I a.s.sume he's a prime suspect, especially because he's an addict."

"Let's take a break and drive over to Joseph's Dream Dolls," April said. "I love that place, and Joseph could use some company. He was so distraught when he came by."

Gretchen picked up a miniature lamp. "Joseph was at the parade on Sat.u.r.day, but he wasn't here at Charlie's. Mom said he had been invited, so why was he walking in the opposite direction when I saw him? I'd really like to ask him a few questions."

"Let's finish here first," Nina suggested.

Twenty minutes later, they had completed the room boxes. Gretchen looked at the finished scenes: a Victorian bedroom and sitting room, a man's dressing room and bedroom, an orchard near a church, and a dilapidated backyard. How did the tiny peanut b.u.t.ter jar found under Charlie's body fit in? Gretchen glanced over at the fifth room box, at its hasty construction. She wondered how it would have fit in with the others. If only Charlie had had time to finish it.

After taking pictures with her cell phone of the completed settings, Gretchen tucked Nimrod into her purse. Nina had her hands full with Tutu and her current client, Enrico. Enrico watched the action suspiciously from his Mexican tapestry purse, ready to defend himself from the entire world if necessary. Short-dog syndrome, Short-dog syndrome, Gretchen thought. Like short-man syndrome. A Napoleon complex. Not that Matt had that problem, although he wasn't very tall. Gretchen, at five eight, could look right into his darkand stormy eyes without tilting her head much at all. Why was she thinking about him? Gretchen thought. Like short-man syndrome. A Napoleon complex. Not that Matt had that problem, although he wasn't very tall. Gretchen, at five eight, could look right into his darkand stormy eyes without tilting her head much at all. Why was she thinking about him? Geez. Get over it. Geez. Get over it. Did every thought have to lead back to the detective? Did it? Did every thought have to lead back to the detective? Did it?

"I'll drive," crash-p.r.o.ne April announced.

"I'll drive," Nina said immediately.

"Let's go with Nina," Gretchen said. No one in their right mind would drive with Fender Bender Mama. Nina darted through traffic in her red vintage Impala. She'd had the chrome polished recently, and it glistened in the warm Arizona sun.

Gretchen found herself wedged into the backseat with the canines. Between the three dogs, they'd managed to streak and smudge both back pa.s.senger windows. Gretchen's clothes were covered in dog hair.

She had given up on keeping the dogs from racing across her lap. Any minute now she expected Enrico to lunge for her throat. He stared at her with his beady little eyes, waiting for her to make a wrong move.

Why am I the one in the backseat?

April glanced back. "Sorry," she said to Gretchen. "But I really don't fit back there. Maybe in a day or two when I lose more weight."

"No problem," Gretchen said, not meaning it.

"I think we could solve this case," April said. "Break it wide open. Let's do a little digging and see what happens."

"We're the Mod Squad," Nina said, veering around a slow car ahead of them.

Gretchen slid sideways. Enrico snarled.

"Charlie's Angels," April said.

"Without Charlie," Gretchen joined in.

"Detective Matt Albright can be Charlie," Nina said.

"No," Gretchen said. "He can't." She saw Nina and April give each other a glance.

Nina checked her rearview mirror. "Oh, no," she said, slowing down.

"Yikes," April said, glancing in her side mirror. Nina changed to the right lane and came to a stop along the curb. Gretchen looked back and saw a Phoenix squad car pull in behind them. "Were you speeding?" she asked Nina. Nina shrugged. "I wasn't paying attention." She shuffled through her purse, rolled down her window, and stuck her driver's license out.

The cop bent down and studied each of them through Nina's window. All three dogs watched out the back driver's side window. Enrico growled. The cop shot him a nononsense look. "Do you know why I stopped you?" he said to Nina.

"I'm not sure, but I know I wasn't speeding," Nina said, smiling her widest and brightest. "I can see an orange aura surrounding you, Officer." Nina used a long, polished nail to draw a circle in the air around his torso. "That means you're confused. This is all a misunderstanding."

The officer frowned. "I need your identification, too."

He looked right at Gretchen.

"As you can see, I wasn't driving. I'm in the backseat. Why do you need mine?"

"Hand it over."

Gretchen did as he asked. He stared at her for a minute, then studied her license. "Yours, too," he said to April.

"I'm calling my attorney," April replied.

"Call whoever you want," he said. "After you show me some identification."

"I don't have any," April said.

"Wait here," he said.

"Auras don't lie," Nina called out the window. "You'll see."

"What are you doing?" April said to Nina. "Stop with that mumbo jumbo, or he'll lock us away."

"Or worse," Gretchen said. "He'll think you're drunk."

"Should we tell him we're undercover?" April said.

"Charlie's Angels don't get tickets."

Nina t.i.ttered, and that started April off. Hee-hee. Hawhaw.

"This isn't funny," Gretchen said. "Why did he want my license?"

"And what's this attorney thing?" Nina said to April.

"You don't have a lawyer."

"I wanted to intimidate him."

"Shhh, here he comes."

"Your brake light isn't working," he said. "Step out of the car, please. You, too." He looked at Gretchen.

"How about me?" April said. "Should I come?"

"Yes, ma'am. And take the dogs with you, especially that one." He looked at Enrico. "Leave your purses where they are."

Another squad car with lights flas.h.i.+ng and siren wailing pulled in ahead of Nina's Impala. The women stepped out, Gretchen carrying Nimrod and Nina clutching Tutu and Enrico. April had her cell phone pressed to her ear before the car doors slammed shut. Another squad car arrived.

"This isn't good," Gretchen said. "Something's seriously wrong."

April gave someone on the phone their location.

"Hurry," she said before hanging up.

"Come with me," the first Phoenix police officer said. He walked them to his car and opened the back door.

"You can wait in here."

They crawled in, first Gretchen, then April. Nina squeezedin. The cop slammed the door and walked away. Gretchen tried to open the door on her side. "It's locked," she said, although she already knew that.

"We're trapped," Nina said, holding Tutu and Enrico on her lap.

"We weren't going to make a run for it, anyway," April said. "This is unnecessary brutality. Look! They've left the windows open an inch. How nice. They're treating us like animals."

"Who did you call?" Gretchen asked.

"You'll see."

Gretchen fought against a wave of claustrophobia. The women looked through the cage separating the front from the back of the squad car and watched what was happening. Two officers were searching Nina's car. They opened the trunk, moved seats, checked the glove compartment, the engine. Another went through their purses, examining each item. Nina's bag interested the officer the most. He pulled out several wee-wee pads that she carried for doggy potty stops and began ripping them apart, studying the contents.

"What in the world . . . ," Nina said from the far side of April.

One of them slid under the Chevy.

"What on earth are they doing?" Nina said, no longer kidding around.

"Searching for something," Gretchen said. "They aren't going to find anything, are they, Nina?"

"Other than a lot of dog paraphernalia? No."

"I don't think that's the kind of paraphernalia they're looking for," Gretchen said.

"Well, mumbo jumbo queen," April said to Nina. "You tell us what's going on."

"The police officers' auras are all orange. I'm pretty sure that means they don't know what they're doing."

"You're pretty sure?" April groaned. "You don't even know what the different colors mean."

"Sure I do. Most of the time. These are unusual circ.u.mstances."

"How long can this take?" Gretchen said, careful not to whine. She wasn't a Charlie's Angel. The Angels would have found a way out of this situation before they were locked up inside a squad car.

Being stuffed in a backseat with April, Nina, and three dogs wasn't her idea of a fun time. She watched the officers continue to search the Chevy. A blue car pulled up on the other side of the street, made a U-turn, and parked in front of the growing line of vehicles. Gretchen groaned.

"What's he he doing here?" doing here?"