Deb Baker - Dolly Departed

"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.

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?"