Dolly Departed Part 7

"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 b.u.t.ter 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 every day."

"Where did Matt find the miniature peanut b.u.t.ter 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 wants 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 Sat.u.r.day 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 theshop. 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 win.

Over my dead body, she thought. she thought.

* 9 *

Some doll collectors believe the eyes make the doll. Googly eyes are big, round, side-glancing eyes that are much larger than the are big, round, side-glancing eyes that are much larger than the doll's other facial features. They usually have large, exaggerated doll's other facial features. They usually have large, exaggerated eyelashes, as well. Flirty eyes move from side to side, giving the eyelashes, as well. Flirty eyes move from side to side, giving the doll a watchful appearance. Paperweight eyes are curved gla.s.s doll a watchful appearance. Paperweight eyes are curved gla.s.s eyes that give a doll a very natural look. Sleep eyes close when the eyes that give a doll a very natural look. Sleep eyes close when the doll is laid down and open when she is upright. One of the most doll is laid down and open when she is upright. One of the most complex doll repairs involves working with eyes. They have to be complex doll repairs involves working with eyes. They have to be placed just right, with no room for the slightest error. placed just right, with no room for the slightest error. Look into your doll's eyes. Are they gateways to the mystery Look into your doll's eyes. Are they gateways to the mystery of her life? What would she tell you if she could speak? of her life? What would she tell you if she could speak?

--From World of Dolls World of Dolls by Caroline Birch Gretchen stared at the tiny penny doll's painted eyes as if she might find the answer to Charlie Maize's death. Why had the woman constructed room boxes containing b.l.o.o.d.y stains? Why furnish them with killing objects? by Caroline Birch Gretchen stared at the tiny penny doll's painted eyes as if she might find the answer to Charlie Maize's death. Why had the woman constructed room boxes containing b.l.o.o.d.y stains? Why furnish them with killing objects?

Had that been her way of finding peace within the boxes'

confines?

The answers eluded her, and the penny doll's eyes didn't give up any secrets.

"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 workinghere. 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 that we're perfectly safe working at Mini Maize."

"I thought we would stick together."

"Make sure you lock the shop door 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 doggieequipment as a family with twin babies carried baby equipment. "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 thought- That wasn't very thought- ful. Why did I say it like that? ful. 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. She placed the basket case doll on the worktable and picked up Charlie's penny doll again. She had used smallstringing elastic and her tiniest stringing hook to attach a new arm. It looked good as new.

Gretchen tackled the German dolly face doll, which needed an eye repair. This one had gla.s.s sleep eyes with hair eyelashes. When Gretchen laid the doll on its back, the eyes remained open instead of closing as they should. She removed the head from the body, lifted the wig, then washed the doll's head and cleaned the eye-rocker unit. Time seemed to stand still while she immersed herself in her work. The doorbell rang, bringing Gretchen back to the present. She glanced at the clock and was surprised to see that more than an hour had gone by since Nina had left for Charlie's shop.

Nimrod flew out of his bed and shot for the door, barking a shrill warning.

"I heard it, too," Gretchen called out to him. "You're supposed to warn me before before the fact, not after." the fact, not after."

As she walked down the hall, Wobbles slid around the corner, intently watching the commotion.

"Bernard Waites," said an old man when Gretchen opened the door. He looked vaguely familiar. He held out a small paper bag. "You left this at Mini Maize on Sat.u.r.day."

She took the offered bag and used her foot to gently keep Nimrod from bolting through the opening in the door. She edged out, closing the door behind her, and looked inside the bag. "My checkbook," she said. "Where did you find it?"

"Right by the entrance. You must have dropped it when you left."

She remembered digging through her purse before she left the Scottsdale shop. It must have fallen out, and she hadn't noticed. "Please come in." Gretchen moved to open the door.

"No, I don't want to come in," he said, gruffly. "I need to get going."

"You can tell how much money I have in my account by the fact that I haven't even missed my checkbook in the last four days," Gretchen said, realizing he must have seen her balance. She would have peeked if she had found a lost checkbook. Her bank balance wasn't much to look at, slightly embarra.s.sing.

Bernard gave her a hint of a smile, like he wasn't listening. "I found your address on the checks," he said. The old man wasn't any too steady on his feet. Brown suspenders, a full head of white hair, and a long white mustache. He looked kindly but crotchety. "Shame about Charlie," he said.

"I saw you at the shop on Sat.u.r.day. You were the one who opened the door and let everyone in."

"The police didn't like that one bit."

"Yes, I know."