"Charlie probably had a heart attack," Gretchen said, hoping the doctor at the scene had been overly cautious.
"Love Potion Number Nine" came on the boombox and livened up the group. Bonnie sang along.
"Maybe we'll find out more when we go over to her shop this morning," April said. "Did you call and get permission?"
"I did," Gretchen said, still surprised at how easy it had been. Her mother had supplied the name of Charlie's only surviving brother, now an MS patient in a Florida assistedliving complex, and he had granted them access. In return, Gretchen promised to clean up the shop and send photographs of the room boxes to him.
"Permission for what?" Bonnie asked.
April stood up slowly. "We're going to restore Charlie's room boxes. Hopefully, they will be ready in time to display at her funeral." To Gretchen, she said, "I'll see you at Mini Maize at ten."
She was almost out the door when she turned. "I almost forgot the most important part of my story. Charlie was convinced that Sara had been killed because Sara always had a big supply of epinephrine on hand in case she had an emergency attack. She had prefilled injections that she could give herself. But when she died at home, all alone, there wasn't a single epi dose in the whole house."
"My," Bonnie said, eyes shining with the possibilities.
"And. .," April paused for dramatic effect, "the police never discovered where the deadly banana bread came from."
Gretchen parked in front of Charlie's miniature doll shop at nine thirty and sat in the car waiting for Officer Kline who, after conferring with Charlie's brother, had volunteered to meet her with a key to the store. She had asked Nina and April to meet her at Mini Maize at ten o'clock to begin their restoration work. Gretchen wanted to talk to the officer, settle in, and make a few quiet observations before her band of merry women arrived with all their accompanying bells and whistles. While she waited, she gazed at Nimrod, asleep on the seat next to her. She couldn't imagine life without him. Her opinion of dogs had changed for the better over time, thanks to Nina, who had pressured her into taking Nimrod when his former owner abandoned him. And the feline Wobbles tolerated the fur ball, which was uncharacteristic of the sinewy tomcat.
A blue Chevy pulled up behind Gretchen's car, and she groaned when she looked through her rearview mirror and saw who it was.
Just great.
She'd been avoiding Matt Albright lately for several very good reasons. Aside from her own mixed-up feelings for him, Matt's wacko, estranged wife Kayla was capable of just about anything.
And here they were, together, out in the open. Gretchen stuffed a groggy Nimrod in her purse and got out of the car.
She peered around for signs of the Wife.
This guy comes with way too much baggage. Keep telling yourself that.
She didn't see Kayla's black Jetta anywhere on the street, but that didn't mean anything.
What could he possibly be doing in Scottsdale right outside of Charlie Maize's miniature doll shop? This had all the signs of big trouble.
Matt hadn't closed his car door before he was flashing his dazzling smile. "What are you doing here?" he asked, beating her to the question of the day. He didn't look at all like a cop. Sandals, shorts, T-shirt, body builder's physique.
Undercover and armed, she was sure. Making him even more mysterious and sexy.
"I was going to ask you the same thing," Gretchen said.
"I'm meeting-" He stopped midsentence and laughed.
"I should have known."
"What?"
"That it was you."
"What?" Gretchen's heart did a little backflip. He grinned wolfishly. "I'm meeting a doll repairer here at the doll shop at. ." he checked his watch. "Nine thirty."
Gretchen stared at him. "Where's Officer Kline?"
"Busy. And he really isn't a street cop. He's a detective, too."
"He fooled me-parade work, uniform, the squad car."
That explained his air of command.
"That's what our superiors do to us when we cross them. They give us traffic."
"I thought that was only in the movies."
"There's a thin line between fact and fiction." Matt moved closer.
She could smell his Chrome cologne. Her favorite male scent.
He grinned, wide and exceptionally friendly. "The departments are collaborating on the cases."
"Why? Wait. ." Gretchen paused. "Did you say cases?
Plural?"
"Charlie's sister died last year in my jurisdiction, and we're taking another look at the circumstances surrounding her death."
"I heard she died from an allergic reaction."
"That's right."
"And Charlie had a heart attack?"
"I'd like to tell you more, but you're friends with my mother. If she gets wind of it, the entire state of Arizona will be alerted to classified information. I won't look too good."
"You know you can trust me. Come on."
"All I can say right now is that we are looking into it,"
Matt said, the grin not quite as wide. "I seem to get every one of these types of cases." His eyes went to the doll shop window.
Gretchen knew Matt's secret: he had pediophobia, a fear of dolls. The big, hunky specimen of a man was afraid of dolls.
"Yes, I can see why this case would be hard for you."
Gretchen's lips quivered, and a chuckle escaped.
"See," he said, good-naturedly. "You find my soft spot, and what do you do? You make fun of me. Do you think I want to be this way?"
Gretchen rearranged her face to show concern. "Of course not. I'm sorry I laughed."
Matt looked toward the doll shop. "These are itty-bitty dolls, not enormous killer dolls. I'll be fine."
"I have confidence in you."
"We should go inside," Matt said, droplets of manly moisture appearing on his brow.
"When was the shop released from police custody?"
Gretchen asked to confirm Britt's permission to be in the shop last night.
"We finished up yesterday. It's all yours." Matt handed her the key. "You first."
"After you."
"I'm being polite. Ladies first."
"Yoo-hoo," someone called from down the street. Gretchen turned to see Nina hustling down the street from the north, Tutu in the lead. The dog wore a large ruffled pink collar and matching bows clipped to her ears. When Nina drew closer, Gretchen could hear Enrico, the ornery Chihuahua, snarling from a Mexican tapestry purse slung across her aunt's shoulder.
"Yoo-hoo," she heard from the opposite direction. April thundered at her from the south.
They all converged in front of Mini Maize as Gretchen unlocked the door.
5
Room boxes offer an excellent way to create a scene that is smaller than the traditional dollhouse. Art in miniature has been around since ancient Greece and still has an avid following today. Use your imagination to create your very own. Either purchase a room box or build one out of cardboard, plywood, or fiberboard. Then let the fun begin. For enhanced realism, you can build false walls with windows or doors and display scenic photographs behind them. Make window treatments from shelf edging, shades from mailing tape, or Venetian blinds from wooden coffee stirrers. Paper napkins make excellent bedding, after dunking them in a mix- ture of glue and water. Gift wrap becomes wallpaper, and refrigerator magnets turn into wall hangings. Common household objects will take on new significance as the hunt begins for new and creative ways to furnish your very special room box.
– From World of Dolls by Caroline Birch
"Why is that hunky detective still outside?" April said, waving at Matt from inside Mini Maize. "I thought he was over his doll problem."