Deb Baker - Goodbye Dolly

Nimrod chose that moment to forget his "hide" command, and he bolted out of the purse and ran to Gretchen. No, no, no, she wanted to scream.

Duanne's face registered cunning. "Ah, the mutt with multiple lives. I had forgotten all about you. Did you like the scorpion?"

"Why would you try to harm a little dog?"

"You stole what was mine."

"This is so ridiculous," Gretchen blurted. "Take the diamonds and go. Leave us alone."

Duanne grinned. "You have to pay for what you've done. Let's start with the dog."

He came toward her, and she knew he was going to reach down and grab Nimrod.

Gretchen could have killed him with her bare hands if they were free. She struggled to loosen the string wound around her legs to give him a good solid kick, but all the mental strength in the world couldn't budge the cords.

"Nimrod," she called loudly as Duanne bent over to pick him up, keeping her voice as firm as she could, hiding the fear. "Nimrod, parade!"

The tiny dog turned abruptly and bolted for the kitchen doggie door, his toenails making clicking sounds on the tile floor. He skidded around the corner, and Gretchen heard the sound of the doggie door flapping open. Duanne was right behind him. Then Gretchen heard Nimrod barking sharply as he raced around the perimeter of the fence, as Nina had taught him to do. The kitchen door slammed.

Alone in the workshop, Gretchen struggled to break free, using the resources she had learned in her doll repair business. Didn't she work with restringing cord all day long? Untangling and unknotting should be second nature to her. Her agile fingers worked on the tiniest of knots every day.

She felt the binding loosen slightly. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the task, working without sight and at an awkward angle.

Nimrod stopped barking just as her hands came free. She pulled herself up to the worktable, grabbed a pair of scissors, and cut the cord binding her legs.

Her eyes fell on the headless Kewpie with the hidden treasure of diamonds. In his haste, Duanne had left it behind. She grabbed it and raced out the door.

Duanne had Nimrod backed into a corner of the privacy fence on the far side of the pool. Nimrod was growling, and his tiny teeth were bared. Duanne heard her coming and turned.

She raced directly at him and threw the Kewpie toward the pool. His eyes left her, and he watched it fly, diamonds exploding in the air and dropping like scattered pebbles into the blue water.

His momentary distraction gave her the seconds she needed, and she lunged onto his back, wrapping her arm around his neck, tightening as she searched for a tender spot on his neck, hoping to shut down his air flow.

Duanne bucked like a bronco, and Gretchen knew it was only a matter of moments before he found the gun in his pocket and used it.

She squeezed hard and held on.

Gretchen felt him pitch sideways and lose his footing. They were falling backward. Water closed in around her as they sank into the pool.

She instinctively let go and kicked away from him, and they each came up sputtering.

Nimrod leapt from the edge of the pool and swam toward her. Duanne turned to her with a menacing grimace, but before he could say or do anything, a voice called out from behind them.

"Look at that," Howie Howard said in his big Texan accent. "We were worried about her, and all along she's having a pool party."

"Nobody invited me," April said.

"Me, either," Nina added.

But Matt Albright, Gretchen was relieved to see, had a steady bead on Duanne.

"I got your message," Howie said after Matt escorted Duanne to the nearest squad car and deposited him in the backseat. "Didn't know anything about a service going on for Brett. The whole thing smelled of ripe road kill to me, so when the detective came over to ask me some more questions, I mentioned it to him."

"We came here," Matt said. "But you weren't home. I knew about the party going on for the Boston group and went over there looking for you."

"I helped out, too," April said. "I told him the service was over on MacDowell."

"Right then," Matt said, "we knew something was really wrong. That's a rough neighborhood. So I called your cell. When you didn't answer, I kept trying, and the four of us drove up and down MacDowell looking for your car."

"No luck," Howie added. "But we found an abandoned truck with stolen plates."

Gretchen sat poolside wrapped in a towel, attempting to control her shaking limbs.

"She's freezing," Nina exclaimed. "Let's get her inside."

"I'm fine, Aunt Nina. Just a little shook up." Gretchen burrowed into the towel. "When the phone rang Duanne found out I had it and kicked it away."

"Yes, but the call connected before he did that," Matt said. "I could hear him talking to you."

"You heard him admit that he killed Brett and Ronny?

And that Brett had been helping him?"

Matt nodded somberly. "But we needed to know where you were. We'd already been here to your house. He could have been holding you anywhere."

"Then," Howie said, "you yelled, 'Parade' to Nimrod."

Nina grinned. "No place else that would work except right here where you have that doggie door."

"Nimrod saved you," April said. "Just like Lassie. I loved Lassie."

"So where are the diamonds?" Matt asked.

Gretchen gazed at the pool.

"I think it's a fine night for a pool party," she said.

"Anyone for a dip?"

Gretchen sat on a bench on Central Avenue. The scorching heat had vanished, leaving Phoenix ready for November's perfect weather. Another month or two, and the snowbirds would flock in.

She watched Steve walk toward her and braced for the inevitable.

"Why are you here?" he said, stopping and sitting down beside her. "Neutral territory?"

She nodded, biting her lower lip. She had picked the center of Phoenix for that very reason.

No tears! she reminded herself sternly.

"My plane leaves in two hours," he said. "I don't have much time. Are you sure you won't change your mind and come back to Boston with me?"

Gretchen stared at the concrete sidewalk. "I'm sure. It's over for us."

"I'm sorry," Steve said. "For everything."

"I know. So am I." Gretchen raised her eyes and met his.

"Have all charges been dropped?"

"Yes. My reputation has been restored. But I've lost you. My pride has been damaged beyond repair."

That was the old Steve she knew best. He'd pursued her all the way across the country because of hurt pride, not real love. He'd get over it the first time a pretty woman strolled by and showed interest.

"Did you find out why Duanne Wilson stuck the knife in Ronny's back?" Steve asked.

"He saw it lying on my table," Gretchen replied. "It was an afterthought, to cast suspicion on the doll dealers."

"It certainly complicated my life."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, then Steve rose. He didn't try to kiss her goodbye, for which she was grateful. Gretchen wiped away a tear as she watched him walk away.

Someone slid onto the bench. "Hey, doggie."

Gretchen looked over at Daisy as Nimrod pounced on the homeless woman's lap.

Swathed in her red and purple regalia, Daisy went about her business of feeding tiny crumbs of bread to a flock of pigeons. Nimrod sat contentedly on her lap watching the birds waddle beneath him, pecking at the ground.

"Come home with me," Gretchen said. "My mother invited you."

"It's nice to have her home," Daisy said.

"I really missed her," Gretchen agreed. "She could hardly believe what happened while she was gone. I'm glad everything was resolved before I had to tell her."

Daisy looked down the street. "There he is," she said.

"Told you he'd show up."