Deb Baker - Dolled Up For Murder

“Have you seen your Aunt Nina lately?” Gertie asked. “That’s one goofball. Is she still baby-talking to that spoiled dog of hers and carrying silly miniature dogs in her handbag?”

“Aunt Gert says hi,” Gretchen said after disconnecting.

“I heard the whole thing,” Nina said, indignant. “The woman’s voice carries like a bad virus.

The shuttle squealed to a halt on Michigan Avenue, and Caroline joined the crowd of travelers surging to the sidewalk. The drops of rain had turned into a windy squall but subsided as quickly as it came, and Caroline was grateful for the reprieve. She walked briskly away, ducked under a breeze-way, and cut into a department store entryway. Clutching her laptop securely to her, she waited against the wall. No one appeared to be following.

Good. She had taken too many precautions to lose now. They would find her car soon, if they hadn’t already. The car, parked far from the Phoenix airport, would buy her more time. Time. Everything depended on her speed and perfect, exquisite timing. She considered calling her sister, but Nina could be unpredictable. A wild card in this game of skill could upset her lead. No. Nina had done enough damage by bringing her daughter to Phoenix.

Thinking of Gretchen drove her back onto the wet sidewalk, and she turned away from Lake Michigan and headed in the direction that would lead her to the doll. The Chicago air hung thick and humid in spite of dark clouds spinning overhead.

She steeled herself for the long walk ahead.

“No,” Nina said, hanging up. “Bonnie says the only thing Martha had in her possession when she died was the parasol, the note, and the clothes on her body. And she knows that for certain, because she identified Martha for the police.”

“Okay, we have a starting point. We have to find out where Martha kept her belongings, if she had any, and we have to find the man who threatened me.” Gretchen said, watching Nina select two of her mother’s Shirley Temple dolls from a cabinet and arrange them on a bench next to the front door. She fluffed their costumes and carefully placed them in position.

“Do you think it’s wise to approach someone who recently threatened you?” Nina stood back and admired her handiwork.

“Do I have a choice?” Gretchen responded. “If you have a better idea, please share it.”

Wobbles made a brief appearance but stalked away when he spotted Nimrod and Tutu. If he was developing a friendship with the dogs, Gretchen couldn’t detect it.

“What are you doing?” Gretchen asked, staring at the dolls.

“Preparing in case Bonnie’s son shows up here again. Detective Albright is in for a little surprise. No more hiding while his backup crew does his dirty work for him. With these dolls as sentinels, he won’t dare step foot in here again.”

“Like gargoyles? They’ll scare him away?”

“Exactly.” She rubbed her hands together and checked the watch on her wrist. “Heavens! It’s two o’clock. We missed lunch, and I’m starving. Let’s see what we can come up with. Come, Tutu and Nimrod, for a leg stretch on the patio.”

They bolted off, and Nina returned while Gretchen poked in the refrigerator and pulled out the leftovers from Larry’s visit that morning. Nina sliced a papaya. They made bagel sandwiches and a pot of herbal tea and ate in silence.

When Gretchen let the dogs back in the house, she saw that Nimrod was soaking wet. “Nimrod fell in the pool,” she called to Nina.

“Oh, no. I forget that poodles are water dogs.” Nina thumped her head in exasperation. “I bet he jumped right in. Now I’ll have to have him groomed before he goes home.”

After towel-drying Nimrod and complaining about the stench of chlorine and other pool chemicals, Nina set off with the promise to return in a few hours for the trip to the Phoenix Rescue Mission. Gretchen checked the answering machine after she noticed its red light flashing. “I’m making progress on these repairs.” Larry’s voice boomed through the room. “If Caroline turns up, give me a call. Otherwise, I’ll keep at it.”

Gretchen was grateful for Larry’s help, whatever his underlying motives might be. Meeting deadlines was an important part of restoration. Again she went through the motions of checking for messages at her apartment in Boston, but the effort felt mechanical and wasted. Whatever her mother was up to, it didn’t include confiding in her family members.

She changed into her swimming suit and lowered her body slowly into the blue, sparkling water. Wobbles, a true sun lover, basked contentedly on a lounge chair. He lifted his head to the sun’s rays with dreamy eyes, and Gretchen envied his relaxed, worry-free existence.

She thought about Steve and their future together. She had lost her job permanently and her mother temporarily, and now she had to face Steve’s lack of commitment to her. He didn’t seem particularly interested in the events that sent her to Phoenix or the details associated with her mother’s disappearance.

For the first time in seven years, she realized that he marginalized her, that he thought his concerns and worries and actions were more important than hers.

If she didn’t call him, how long would it take him to call her? Interesting, she thought, to conduct a test.

The doorbell rang, interrupting her calculated decision to outwait Steve. She stepped from the pool, wrapped a beach towel around her waist, and padded through the house, trailing chlorinated water. Matt Albright stood on the porch.

“Come in, Detective,” Gretchen said, swinging the door wide after passing the two Shirley Temple dolls. Nina and her pranks. But he deserved it after his cold, callous handling of the search and his false friendliness.

He seemed surprised at Gretchen’s warm greeting, took a step forward, and smiled. Once again Gretchen admired the way his face lit up. “I caught you in the pool,” he said. “And call me Matt. Our mothers are good friends. No need to be so formal.”

When he saw the dolls on the bench, the smile slid from his face, and he stopped in his tracks.

“What’s wrong?” Gretchen said with mock concern. “Are you ill? You look feverish.” He did look pale and slightly unsteady. Panic flickered in his eyes.

How could a buffed-up cop exhibit such fear over a harmless doll? Nina’s trick didn’t seem so funny after all, and Gretchen felt mean-spirited for going along with it.

“Give me a second,” she said, snatching the dolls and quickly transferring them to a shelf in the closet. “Would you like some iced tea?”

He nodded wordlessly and followed her into the kitchen. Gretchen poured two tall glasses. “Lemon?” He nodded again.

Gretchen handed him a glass and led the way to the patio, choosing a table under a wide umbrella. She fluffed her damp hair and sat down, still wearing the towel around her waist. The sun sizzled overhead, instantly sucking the moisture from her skin. The swim a few minutes ago seemed like a distant memory as her body temperature climbed.

Before sitting down next to Gretchen, the detective stopped to stroke Wobbles, running his hand over the cat’s long body several times. At least he doesn’t have some feline phobia, she thought.

“You probably will regret offering me iced tea when you find out why I’m here,” he said.