Dolled Up For Murder

28

“Larry’s going to live,” Gretchen said when she hung up the phone, incredulous that anyone could survive that fall. “His back is broken, but he was conscious, and he confessed. They released Nacho this morning.”

Gretchen sat at the kitchen table with her mother and Nina. Dogs and cats scampered underfoot.

Caroline clamped her hand to her chest. “You can’t imagine how frightened I was when I saw Larry’s car parked next to the trailhead. I knew he killed Martha, and I was afraid of what I would find up there. I never dreamed it was you.” She cupped Gretchen’s hands in her own.

“You saved my life,” Gretchen admitted. “I don’t know why I missed his car when I started the climb. I must have run right past it.”

“You wanted so badly to believe that you were on your way to meet your mother,” Nina said. “You weren’t thinking about anything else.”

Gretchen agreed. “I’m glad the police released Nacho. They could have charged him with obstruction.”

Caroline took a sip of tea. “When I asked him to stall for time, I didn’t expect him to take such a drastic step. But that’s Nacho…” Her voice trailed off.

Gretchen frowned. “Why did Martha have a note asking you to hide her French fashion doll if you already had the doll?”

“I wondered about that also,” Caroline said. “Martha left the doll in my workshop, and I think after she left, she must have realized that she forgot to leave the note. She ran into Larry on her way back, and he chased her up the trail, so she never had the chance to return and leave the note.”

“What about Joseph?” Gretchen said. “Why did he lie about the Kewpie?”

“I think he was simply afraid of involvement,” Caroline said. “He didn’t want his name added to the list of suspects.”

“Poor Julia,” Nina said. “She didn’t know a thing about it. I don’t know how she’ll run the shop with Larry in prison.”

“Julia’s tough,” Caroline said. “And the club members will help her through it.”

Nina chuckled. “Daisy almost fainted when she heard that she slept through all the excitement.”

Gretchen frowned in thought. “How did you get past the police at the airport? According to Matt Albright, officers were waiting for you.”

Caroline smiled. “I expected a welcoming committee, and I really didn’t want to explain from a jail cell so… let’s just say that Larry isn’t the only one who knows how to throw together a disguise. If Bonnie’s son hadn’t spent so much time drinking lemonade with you, he wouldn’t have been late, and he certainly would have recognized me the moment he saw me. I managed to scoot right past those other officers.”

“I think he likes you,” Nina said.

Nimrod gave a little yip from his poodle purse on the doorknob.

“Look who’s awake,” Nina exclaimed. “He needs a home, Gretchen. His family is still away, and they’ve decided a dog is too much commitment, since they travel extensively. They asked me to find him a good home.” Nina stared at Gretchen with pleading eyes.

Gretchen slid a peek at Nimrod, and his ears perked forward. Wobbles sat contentedly under Nimrod and purse, watching over Tutu and Enrico.

“Look.” Nina pointed out. “Even Wobbles likes Nimrod.”

Gretchen, amazed that she would even consider owning a purse dog, grinned at Nina. She pushed back her chair and lifted the curly black teacup poodle from his traveling home. “Okay,” she said. “If Wobbles says he approves.”

Wobbles, reserved with his comments, looked on.

“He said yes,” Nina said. “I heard him through a special energy field.”

Caroline laughed, a deep, throaty roar. “It’s good to be home.”

“I have a new helper,” Nina said. “Daisy’s interested in learning to train purse dogs. You’re right, Gretchen, she’s a natural.”

Caroline laughed again. “Things have changed so much in one week. Gretchen’s here, we have a new houseguest in the spare bedroom, and the house is full of pet life.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Gretchen said, realizing what an imposition she must be.

“Not at all. I didn’t know how lonely I’ve been until I saw the house brimming with activity.” She glanced at Gretchen. “Why don’t you stay? We can clear out the cabana for you. I have more repair work than I can keep up with, and you’re looking for a job. Stay and be my partner.”

Gretchen smiled awkwardly. Could she exchange her life in Boston with its East Coast sophistication and changing seasons for eternal heat and sun and transient neighbors? She’d lived her entire life in Boston, born and raised, and all her connections and roots were there. Except for her mother, who had yanked her roots up without a backward glance.

“Steve wouldn’t appreciate it,” Gretchen said lamely.

Nina sighed deeply. “You two have to make the next step or change direction. I’m all for dumping him and starting over.”

“Nina,” Caroline said. “This isn’t your business.”

Gretchen left her mother and aunt bantering at the table and slid through the patio doors. She sat on the edge of the pool, dangling her toes in the lukewarm water, the sun already a burning glow above.

She dialed Steve’s cell phone and was surprised to hear his voice when she expected to connect to his voice mail.

“My mother’s home,” she said. “It’s over.”

“Has she been arrested?”

“No. The real murderer confessed.”

Steve blew a sigh of relief over the airwaves. “I’m sorry I didn’t show more support, but I had to distance myself until it was over. If your family had been involved in that murder, it would have destroyed my chances for partnership. You know how much that means to me.”

Gretchen knew exactly how much the partnership meant to him. It meant enough that he had abandoned her at a time when she needed him the most.

Seven years of work on this relationship.

How much did it mean to her? How much was she willing to sacrifice? And what about Courtney, the intern?

Was Steve willing to put the same effort into the relationship as she was? As much as she wanted to believe that he was committed, his actions spoke against him.

Gretchen stared up at Camelback Mountain.

“Steve,” she said, closing her eyes, “I’m going to stay in Arizona for awhile. I need to sort out my priorities and decide what I want to do with my life.”

The rest of the conversation was predictable. Steve, the divorce attorney, gave a brilliant closing argument.

“No,” Gretchen said, surprising herself with the force of her conviction, with the forcefulness of the small word.

Aunt Gertie’s parting words popped into her head. “Stay strong.”

“My mind is made up. I’m staying.”