Deb Baker - Goodbye Dolly

"Sure," Gretchen said, with no idea why she'd bothered calling the police. All she wanted was the name of her pursuer, and she couldn't even get that. Once her complaint passed through enough red tape to produce the information she needed, she would have died of natural causes. Or unnatural causes.

Ten minutes later, she was driving home with an alert eye out for the Jetta and a bag of green chile burgers from a fast-food drive-through in the passenger seat. Her cell phone rang.

"I hear you had a close encounter," Matt said.

"Of the third kind," Gretchen responded cautiously, the photograph of Albert vivid in her mind. "News travels fast. I didn't know you hung around dispatch centers."

"I don't. This one requires special attention, so they notified me."

"I should be flattered." For the first time, Gretchen realized the power of his position. Was he having her watched? As a detective in the Phoenix Police Department, his authority extended further than that of an ordinary patrol cop. He had access to everything and everyone. Frightening, once Gretchen really thought about it.

"Just tell me what happened," he said, sounding concerned.

"This car has been following me in a very aggressive way. It almost hit me. Whoever it is, is trying to scare me. It's working."

Matt asked her to repeat the license number.

There was a long pause on the other end. Then Matt told her the name of the person registered to the black Jetta. Her turn for a long pause. He must have thought she hung up, because he said, "Hello? Are you still there?"

She groaned audibly.

"This is extremely embarrassing for me," he said.

"Great. Just great. I'll leave you to handle it. If it happens again, I'm filing harassment charges."

Gretchen hung up.

She had just given her box of dolls, the one she hoped to use in negotiations; to Matt's crazy, estranged wife.

"Well," Nina said from the other end of the line. "Bonnie told us she was a psych case. Now we know for sure."

Gretchen swung into her carport just as her ear, pressed against the receiver, was beginning to hurt. She made a mental note to add more minutes to her cell phone plan and buy a headset. "Why me? She doesn't have any reason to follow me."

"She must have caught on."

"Caught on?" Gretchen turned off the ignition.

"It's obvious to everyone but you that Matt's hot on your heels, and it isn't because he wants to give you a speeding ticket."

"That can't be true."

"It is. You both have foolish smiles on your faces whenever you run into each other. Stop fighting against it and go with the flow."

"Do you think Bonnie told his wife about me?"

"It isn't a long shot. I bet that's exactly what happened. Blabby Bonnie's been trying to set you two up for a while now." Gretchen imagined Nina grinning widely. "You and Matt want to go out with Eric and me tonight?"

"Give it up, Nina. I'm not dating Matt. He hasn't even asked me out."

"This is the twenty-first century. You don't have to wait for him to ask you. Turn the tables. Get aggressive."

"Butt out, Nina. I'm still trying to extricate myself from one man."

"I'll put a bug in Matt's ear."

"Don't you dare." Gretchen knew her aunt certainly would dare. The idea might have appealed to Gretchen yesterday. Today, after seeing the photo of Albert Thoreau, she had too many doubts about Matt.

She decided not to tell Nina about Albert's beating until she had concrete information to back up her fear that Matt had attacked the homeless man. She hoped it wasn't true. It seemed so out of character for him.

Of course, she had badly misjudged Steve. She had believed in him, too.

"Did you pick up Daisy?" Gretchen asked.

"She's working with Karen's dog right now."

"What should I do about the box of Kewpies? I can't believe I gave it to the wrong person."

"Forget about it," Nina said. "You'd have to ask the queen bee for it back, and you know what the queen does if she spots a new queen emerging?"

"I don't want to know."

"She kills the new queen."

On that positive note, Gretchen signed off and grabbed the bag of green chile burgers. They smelled wonderful. One for now, and two for snacks later. She had to find time to cook a healthy meal one of these days, instead of existing on junk food. Like two days of hot dogs at the doll show and these cholesterol-soaked burgers.

She rounded the corner of the carport and dug for her house keys, wishing again that her purse was more organized. Everything she needed always seemed to rest at the very bottom.

When she stepped onto the porch, she saw it.

A package propped up against the door, positioned so she couldn't miss it.

Postal stamp-Phoenix, Arizona.

Handwriting-the same.

Gretchen thought about ignoring it. Maybe if she didn't acknowledge its existence, it would vanish.

She looked up and down the street, a tiny sliver of fear traversing her spine.

She made another phone call, gave the package wide berth when she entered the house, and sat down to wait for April to arrive.

This hundred-year-old baby is a collector's dream. In addition to the Kewpie doll, you can find Kewpie paper dolls, stickers, plates, postcards, salt and pepper shakers, and mini babies. They're af- fordable and fun. Most popular are Kewpies in action poses, those holding unusual items, and Kewpies with animals. Add one to your collection, and you'll be hooked for life.

– From World of Dolls by Caroline Birch

"Why me?" April said, her voice expressing flattered pleasure. She wore her salt-and-pepper hair tied back in a big scrunchy and another tent-sized muumuu, royal blue this time and patterned with hummingbirds.

"That's what I've been saying to myself ever since these packages started arriving," Gretchen replied. "Why me?

The answer continues to elude me."

"I mean, why did you call me instead of Nina? You two are usually tight as a pair of jeans on a teenager."

"I called you first because you've been in the doll business your whole life, and I need an experienced, critical eye."

"You also want me to open this package, and you know that Nina would have wimped out, leaving you to do it yourself. One more hidden message, and she'll fall apart."

"Will you just open it, April?"

"What if it's a mail bomb?"

"None of the others were." Gretchen began to regret her decision to ask April for help, but she couldn't have faced the task by herself.

Both of them eyed the package. The first two Kewpies had been delivered to the doll show. This one had her name on the label and, worse, her home address. No escaping the fact that this one was meant exclusively and irrefutably for her. No generic "current resident" feel to it like the ones at the show.

"Sent on Saturday. The day you got the first one." April ripped brown paper away to reveal a square, dirty-looking box. "Don't worry, this is the last one you're going to get."

"How do you know that?" Gretchen's eyes were riveted to the box.

"Everything comes in threes."

"You've been hanging around with my aunt again."

"I always believed in the rule of three." April ran her fingernail under a piece of tape holding the top of the box closed, opened the cover, and peeked inside. "For example,"

she said, removing an object wrapped in a brown paper bag.

"You've received three packages, so this is the last one, and there have been three deaths, Ronny, Brett, and this Percy fellow. Three murders, so we're all done with those."

"That's reassuring."

"Unless another set of threes begins." April didn't attempt to open the paper bag. "And you could be the first in the new trio."

"April, you're a breath of fresh air," Gretchen said with only a mild hint of sarcasm. "Now, open it before I explode."