“The quest for another bird?”
Gretchen nodded. Something like that.
“Listen, we have to have a conversation before Matt arrives.”
“Sure, what’s up?” Her mother looked too serious. Please don’t tell me your cancer is back. That particular fear hung on the edge of Gretchen’s mind all the time.
“Don’t look at me that way,” Caroline said. “I’m perfectly fine. It’s about the woman in the cemetery.”
“What about her?” Gretchen had kept the dead woman at the back of her thoughts most of the day. Staying busy had helped.
“The fantasy doll looked vaguely familiar to me. I thought about it all night, and this morning I knew for sure I was right. It was so long ago, I didn’t believe it could be possible. But unfortunately, it was.” Caroline reached for her glass on the table-her favorite cocktail, a single-malt scotch, ice, no water. “I know who the murder victim is.”
“What?” exclaimed Gretchen.
“I met Matt at the police station. He showed me photographs and I identified her. She was older than I’d pictured her. It’s strange, when you haven’t seen someone for a long time, you expect them to remain looking exactly the same.” Caroline’s face registered fear and sadness.
Gretchen rose and bent over the back of Caroline’s chair, kissing the top of her head and rubbing her mother’s shoulders. “Who was she?”
Caroline went limp under Gretchen’s fingers, giving herself over to the massage. “We met at a national doll convention long before I married your father. We kept in touch for a number of years, then lost track of each other, but every once in a while, I’d get news and see pictures of her fantasy dolls. Her name was Allison Thomasia.” Caroline smiled, remembering.
“I wonder what happened in the cemetery,” Gretchen said, feeling her mother’s muscles tighten again, sorry she had said anything.
“Matt told me someone struck her several times, crushing her head. The murder weapon hasn’t been found.” Caroline’s voice cracked.
Gretchen thought of the blood stains on the desert floor and Matt’s observation that the woman had crawled before collapsing. She’d keep that knowledge to herself.
“Did she live in Phoenix?” Gretchen asked.
“I doubt it, or I would have heard.”
The doorbell at the front of the house rang. Gretchen heard Nimrod, the family gatekeeper, raising the alarm from inside.
“It’s Matt,” Gretchen said. “Nimrod will shake him down.”
“We’re around back,” Caroline called out. A minute later Matt unlatched the outer patio door, came through, and placed a bag on the table. Nimrod burst back outside and tried to crawl up his leg. Matt reached down and stroked the little dog, greeted Caroline, then addressed Gretchen.
“Too lazy to properly greet the man of your dreams,” he said. “I expected you to rush to me.”
“I’m paralyzed with pleasure,” Gretchen responded. “I can’t move a single muscle.”
“We’ll have to work on your welcomes.” He kissed her.
Gretchen loved the casual banter between them. He was a completely different person when he relaxed-fun, witty, sensual.
She walked into the house and went down the hall to get Daisy, but found her sprawled on the bed, talking on her cell. She refused to budge. “I couldn’t eat a thing,” Daisy said. “I’m too excited.”
The rest of them dined on Gretchen’s favorite food-green chile stew from Richardson’s Restaurant. While they ate she thought about her plan for their evening mountain hike. She’d packed a light blanket, two wineglasses, candles, and a bottle of champagne. Tonight, she was going to have him all to herself. She had briefly considered faking a twisted ankle at the very height of Camelback to keep him up there. But knowing him, he’d call in a helicopter for a mountain rescue or attempt to carry her down. She’d better stay honest, if she didn’t want him to heft her over his shoulder and find out that she wasn’t a waif like his ex-wife.
“Let’s go,” Gretchen said when they finished, ready to implement her romantic plan.
“Gretchen, I’m very sorry, but I can’t,” Matt said. “As much as I want to, I’m working tonight. I was lucky to get away long enough to have dinner with you.”
Gretchen’s excitement transformed into major disappointment. She couldn’t speak.
“Was the information I gave you helpful?” Caroline said after glancing at Gretchen and seeing her distress. “Did you locate Allison’s husband?”
“Very much. At first we couldn’t track him down-they had a home together in LA, but he wasn’t there. Then he came into the station a little while ago to report his wife missing.”
“Andy couldn’t have taken the news well,” Caroline said. “Those two were inseparable. I’d like to talk to him. Do you know where he’s staying?”
“With us for the moment.”
Caroline gasped. “You’re holding him? The man found out moments ago that his wife is dead and you have him in custody?”
“We have procedures, Caroline. I don’t make up the rules.”
“I’m going down there immediately.”
Matt shook his head. “That isn’t possible. But I promise to notify you when he’s released.”
He had that all-business attitude that Gretchen was learning to recognize. She could almost see his mind working when he said, “According to him, they were vacationing in Phoenix. Yet it took the guy almost twenty-four hours to notify the police that his wife had disappeared. That’s a long time, Caroline.”
“You can’t possibly suspect Andy?”
“Everyone is a suspect until we can prove otherwise.” Matt stood up. “It was a pleasure, as always.”
Gretchen walked with him along the side of the house, steering the conversation away from murder and on to safer ground by relating Nina’s escapade in the haunted museum and her mission to find a ghost’s doll.
Matt put his hands up and crossed his index fingers as if to ward off evil. “Don’t tell me any more. I’m getting sweaty just hearing about d-o-l-l-s. That fairy doll almost put me over the edge.”
Gretchen wrapped her fingers tightly through his. “I’ve been thinking about that poor woman’s final moments,” she said. “I can feel them as though they were my own.”
“Once you see a murder scene it stays with you a long time.”
Gretchen thought her last image of the victim might be around forever. “I’d like to help, if I can.”
“Thanks, but you don’t need to worry about my cases. Tell you what,” Matt said. “I’ll figure out who killed Allison Thomasia and you find out more about the ghost in the museum. Our time together is so short these days, let’s not waste it with shoptalk. Ok?”
One sweet kiss and he was off, leaving Gretchen frustrated and pretty sure that he’d just told her to mind her own business.
11
The woman at the front door is like an all-terrain vehicle, solid, strong, rugged, in high gear as though she’s had too much coffee. She’s wearing a tentlike yellow top and matching cotton pants and white crew socks with leather sandals. He’s annoyed by her presence this early in the day, having expected an opportunity to check out the hall before anyone arrived. He wants to shout out loud to blow off his building tension, but he’s too smart for that. He holds it in.
“You just saved the show,” she says all enthusiastic, reaching into his personal space. At first, he thinks she is going to bear-hug him, she’s so excited. So he steps back, dodging, but she’s only extending her hand. He doesn’t want to touch her, but he needs to fit in. They shake. “I’m April,” she says. “And you say you have experience with lighting?”