“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.”
DEB BAKER
DEB BAKER spends as much time as possible in Phoenix, Arizona, the setting for her Dolls To Die For Mysteries featuring Gretchen Birch, and in the Michigan Upper Peninsula, home of her Gertie Johnson Yooper Mysteries.
She lives in North Lake, Wisconsin, with her husband, their two teenagers, two border collies, and two wayward cats.
Visit Deb’s website at www.debbakerbooks.com.
