Goodbye Dolly (11 page)

Matt rose beside her.

"I'll let myself out," he said. "Stay out of trouble."

She watched him swing open the patio gate and disappear into the night. What luck! He hadn't arrested her for withholding information. It certainly paid off to personally know the lead detective.

Gretchen thrust her hands into her pockets and suddenly remembered the paper. She pulled it out and unfolded it near a candle glowing on the patio table.

"Wag the Dog" was scribbled across the paper in large, loopy handwriting.

Gretchen slumped. What kind of message was that? She felt cheated.

There are all kinds of nuts in this world,
she thought, blowing out the candle and closing up the house for the night.

After knocking and listening at the door, Gretchen entered the spare bedroom. Daisy must have checked out of the guest room while she and Nina were playing hide-andseek with a black Jetta. An occasional meal, a shower, and a real bed for a short nap was all Daisy would partake of before quickly heading back to her life on the street. Gretchen couldn't see the attraction.

She turned off all the phones' ringers before turning on the alarm clock.

Gretchen slept fitfully and rose early Sunday morning, hoping a hike up Camelback Mountain would ease the turmoil in her mind. By the time the sun came up at six thirty, she had already reached the footpath leading to the trailhead. Fifteen minutes later she paused to look at the valley below and experienced her usual wonder at the magnificent view of Phoenix. She followed a trail to the right called Bobby's Rock Trail, not nearly as long or as strenuous as Summit Trail, but she didn't have enough time before the doll show for the challenge of Summit.

Red clay dominated the landscape with a scattering of ocotillos, barrel cacti, and palo verdes. Gretchen used her binoculars to zoom in on the birdlife of the Sonoran Desert. She heard the high-pitched trill of a rock wren and searched for the elusive Gila woodpecker that builds its nest hole in saguaro cacti.

An hour later, Gretchen returned to the trailhead and spotted Matt on his way up. She watched him approach and observed the rigidness of his face, the tense jaw, and flashing eyes. All business.

She gave him a tentative smile. "Hey," she said. "You're out early."

"Looking for you, as usual." He came to a stop. "You aren't on your way up, are you? I don't feel like climbing today."

"Nope. I'm going down."

"That's probably the best news I'll hear all day."

"What's up?"

Matt ran his fingers through dark, unruly hair, and Gretchen saw that he hadn't shaved this morning. "I should apply for a transfer to vice," he said. "It would be a cakewalk after this."

"Let's talk on the way back." Gretchen started down the path to the street. "I have to get ready for the doll-"

Ahead, she saw Steve walking at a fast pace up the street headed in her direction.

Steve looked up and spotted her. His pace increased. Gretchen rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips in a confrontational stance. Steve might be king of the hill in a court of law, but he was approaching her mountain and her space. He'd picked the wrong hill this time. She had tried to block him out of her mind, but if he wanted to persist, she was as ready as she'd ever be.

Behind her Matt spoke quietly into a cell phone. "Send the closest unit," he said, and gave his position.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?" Gretchen said without looking back at him, instead watching Steve stumble along on the rough path.

"Your boyfriend's fingerprints were all over the knife we found in Ronny Beam's back," Matt said. "I'm taking him in for questioning."

Gretchen couldn't believe what she said next. Of all the responses she could have given at that precise moment, of all the things she should have said in Steve's defense, considering their seven-year relationship and her deep conviction that he couldn't possibly have murdered Ronny, she blurted the first thing that popped into her head.

"He's not my boyfriend!"

"How's the doll show going?" Caroline asked. Her voice was light and airy. California agreed with her. Or maybe it was all the excitement of the book tour.

"Wonderful," Gretchen said. "I'm selling quite a lot of dolls."

Gretchen would tell her mother everything when she came home. Not now. She would only worry, or worse, abandon her tour.

"I knew you could do it," Caroline said. "Is Nina helping out?"

"Oh, yes. She's the highlight of the show."

Caroline laughed. "And Steve? Did you give him a big sendoff like you said you would?"

"A big sendoff? That's one way of putting it. I wish he hadn't come to Phoenix."

"I have to tell you, I thought you two might get back together. And I wasn't pleased at the prospect."

"I thought you liked Steve."

"I could see what initially attracted you to him, but he's changed. More selfabsorbed, more easily angered, and less considerate of you. He's forgotten what's important in life."

"I think he'll find time soon to reflect on what's important," Gretchen said.

"I hope so. I wish him well."

"Me, too."

Nimrod and Sophie hammed it up for their expanding audience, easily drawing the biggest crowd of the show to Nina and April's table. Who needed dolls at a doll show to create a buzz when you had cute, miniature puppies?

Gretchen could hardly focus on the dolls she needed to repair. She even considered removing the sign that offered her restringing services. Customers pored over her remaining Ginny dolls and the new batch of Barbie dolls, yet all Gretchen wanted was privacy to sort through her emotions. She had filled Nina in on the morning's events when she arrived at the hall, and they had agreed to keep Steve's situation a secret from the other doll dealers for the time being. And from her mother, who didn't need distractions from home to interfere with her tour.

Gretchen couldn't get the sound of the wailing sirens from this morning out of her head. She couldn't forget Steve's pale face peering out at her from the back of the squad car.

"That's him?" Steve had asked in disbelief right before being unceremoniously escorted into the squad car. "The guy who's replacing me? The Boy Scout from the doll show?"

This was
so
embarrassing. And awkward. "I never said I had a replacement for you. Nina did."

"I recognize the name. Matt Albright. This cop who's threatening me is the guy you're dating?"

"We aren't dating." Gretchen glanced at Matt in time to see a raised eyebrow and amusement playing at the corners of his lips.

"Can we discuss this later?" she said. "The police think you might have something to do with Ronny's murder."

"That's ridiculous." Steve turned to Matt. "I demand my rights."

Matt sighed. "I don't have to read you your rights," he said. "You aren't under arrest. Yet." He held up a pair of handcuffs. "I would use these if I was arresting you."

"I demand representation," Steve had said. "Gretchen, you need to follow us and post bail for me. Gretchen-"

"She doesn't have to post bail for you." Matt's voice held an edge of annoyance. "You aren't under-"

"Gretchen. Wake up, Gretchen."

Gretchen blinked and found herself at the doll show.

April hovered over her. "This woman wants to buy a doll,"

she said.

"Oh, sure." Gretchen fumbled through the exchange. Afterward, she showed April and Nina the piece of paper she had found inside the Kewpie doll.

"
Wag the Dog
," Nina said. "The movie?"

"Dustin Hoffman starred in it," April said.

"And Robert De Niro," Nina added.

"Don't forget Anne Heche," April said.

Gretchen frowned at both of them. "Now that we've established the cast, can someone tell me what the movie was about?"

"What movie?" Bonnie appeared out of nowhere, followed by Milt Wood, clutching a shopping bag in his right hand.

"
Wag the Dog
," April said. "Gretchen found a message."

"What message?" Milt asked.

"It's about a scandal and the presidency," Bonnie explained, chattering right past Milt's question. "Robert De Niro is a spin doctor who creates a war to draw attention away from a scandal involving the president. It's a good movie."

"What does
Wag the Dog
mean?" Gretchen asked.

"What message?" Milt tried again.

Nina waved her arm wildly above her head. "I know. A dog should be smarter than its tail. If the tail is smarter, then the tail wags the dog."

Gretchen looked down at Tutu, Nina's frivolous schnoodle. Brain the size of a pinhead and she still managed to wag her tail. "I don't get it."

"What's going on?" Bonnie said. "What message did you get?"

Gretchen showed her the piece of paper. Bonnie's penciled eyebrows zigzagged. "There's a comma right here."

"Where?" Everyone leaned toward the paper.

"See that little mark right there?" Bonnie said, pointing.

"I thought that was a spot of dirt," Gretchen said. Bonnie shook her red-wigged head. "That changes the message."

" 'Wag, the Dog' means something different than 'Wag the Dog'?" Gretchen asked.

"I'm the Kewpie expert around here, remember?" Bonnie said. "Chief Wag is the leader of the Kewpies. He has a flag with a capital
K
in his topknot." Bonnie stuck a hand on top of her head for effect, but Gretchen thought she was making an
L
rather than a
K
. Sign language for loser. Gretchen stared at Bonnie. "Really?" she said. "Wag is the name of a Kewpie doll?"

"Really. So the dog must mean Kewpiedoodle Dog. He has wings, too, just like the other Kewpies." Bonnie beamed. "Got to go. If you need any more help, just call."

"I'm still searching for a special Kewpie to take home with me," Milt said. "Let me know if you see anything."

Gretchen watched them stride down the aisle. She was no closer to understanding the message inside the Blunderboo Kewpie than she had been when she first discovered it. Whether she read it as "Wag, the Dog" or "Wag the Dog"

didn't matter.

Her cell phone rang. The number on the caller ID was unfamiliar. She answered.

"I haven't been charged with anything," Steve said.

"But your boyfriend is holding me on suspicion."

"Can he do that?" Gretchen asked, ignoring the boyfriend reference.

"My fingerprints on the knife, and a public fight with Ronny right before he was killed aren't helping my case."

"I'll find you an attorney."

"Not yet." Steve sounded stressed but cautiously restrained. "I haven't told the police everything, if you catch my meaning."

"You have to tell the truth, Steve. You're an attorney. You should know that."

"I'm committed to you, and I won't put you in a bad spot."

"You're the one who took the knife. You have to explain how it got in Ronny's back."

"If I tell him that I gave it back to you, you'll be the one sitting in jail instead of me. Unless going out with the detective assigned to the case exempts you from the suspect list."

Gretchen rubbed her weary eyes. "What are you talking about? You took my knife."

"I was sort of tinkering with it on your worktable and became distracted by our conversation, and later I found it in my pocket. But during the doll show I threw it down on your table. You know that."

"I know nothing of the sort." Gretchen thought about the clutter at the repair end of the table. Was he telling the truth?

"Don't worry, I'll protect you as long as I can."

"I don't need protection. I didn't do anything wrong."

"If you didn't kill Ronny, you better find out who did, because I know I didn't, and one of us is in serious trouble."

"Tell the truth, Steve. That's all I can recommend right now."

"Gotta go. Your boyfriend's back." Steve disconnected without hearing Gretchen's next comment.

"He isn't my boyfriend," she said into the dead phone.

Tulip Ray shades her eyes with the back of a tattooed hand.

"I don't usually, like, get involved. Nothing personal. I like to, y'know, like, mind my own business."

"Just a few questions."

"Maybe someone else can, like, answer them. I have to get to work."

"It'll only take a minute."

Tulip sighs heavily for the dramatic effect.
All right,
she hopes the sigh implies,
but you're taking up my valuable time.

"What?" she asks, tapping a foot against a privacy wall.
Hurry up,
the foot implies.
Make it quick.
She watches a lizard slink up the wall and duck behind a withered vine.

"You were standing on the curb?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"What did you see?"

"Not much. The deed was done when I looked out in the street."

"The deed?"

"That's an expression. I didn't, like, see a thing."

"How about the box? Did you see the box?"

"What kind of box?"

"Cardboard box."

"Maybe."

"What do you mean, maybe? Either you saw it or you didn't. Which is it?"

She narrows her eyes. "Yah, I saw a box. That guy who got killed had a box when he ran up."

"What happened to it?"

"You said this would only take a minute."

"We can continue our conversation downtown."

"Some other guy picked it up."

"What did he look like?"

"Like he's been sleeping on park benches for about a hunnert years. He had a bunch of blue clothes on, y'know?