"No, of course not," Gretchen reassured her. "You were at your table the whole time, weren't you?"
Nina paused to think about it. Then she grinned widely.
"Yup. I was."
"And you have all kinds of witnesses to that," Gretchen said. "You're off the hook."
Gretchen thought of Steve's altercation with Ronny, which had taken place in front of as many, if not more, witnesses. She couldn't say the same for him.
Daisy showered and changed her clothes while Nina occupied her time with a training session for Sophie. This was Gretchen's chance to get some much-needed advice, and her aunt Gertie in Michigan was the perfect person to ask for it.
Gretchen could use a break from personal conflict, and the last thing she wanted was for Nina to know about this phone call. She closed the workshop door to ensure privacy. Aunt Nina and Aunt Gertie didn't get along, mainly because they were both strong, opinionated alpha females. Gertie Johnson came from Gretchen's father's side of the family and was only related to Nina through marriage. Nina mentioned that fact every time Gertie's name came up in conversation.
When the familiar voice answered, Gretchen said, "How are things in the Upper Peninsula?"
"Still holding together," Aunt Gertie said. "The fall colors are at their peak. You should come for a visit."
"I'd like that. Still running your private investigation service?"
"Of course. Someone has to catch criminals. You don't expect my sheriff son to be doing much."
Blaze, Gretchen's cousin, ran the local law enforcement service like The Andy Griffith Show. Stonely, Michigan, had a lot in common with Mayberry. So did Blaze and Barney Fife. No wonder her aunt took the law into her own hands.
"And how are Star and Heather?" Her aunt had named all her kids for the horses she never had.
"They're fine. But you didn't call to chitchat," Aunt Gertie said. "I can hear it in your voice. Something's happened."
Gretchen related recent events, including her suspicions about Steve. "Maybe I should have told Matt the truth," she finished.
"You did the right thing. You don't even know what the truth is yet. If you had told him, Steve would be in jail right this minute, and the police would have considered the case closed."
"I'm aiding and abetting."
"Nothing of the sort. What if they had arrested you? If it was your knife, maybe you're being set up."
"I hadn't thought of that." In all the excitement, the ramification of the weapon in Ronny's back belonging to her hadn't sunk in. How could she explain how the knife got there?
"You don't really think Steve killed the reporter, do you?" Gertie asked.
"No." Gretchen wished her voice was firmer.
"Do you want to find the real killer?"
"Of course."
"Then figure it out."
That was Gertie. Making the impossible sound simple. In an emergency, Gertie Johnson was the person to be with. Totally self-sufficient. Maybe it came from living in the isolation of northern Michigan. Maybe it was just Gertie's resilient nature.
"Exactly what did Ronny say to you at the doll show?"
"He said that some story he was working on was about to blow sky high. He said something like this is better news than dolls murdering people."
"That's odd," Gertie said.
"The guy is… was odd. I'm sure the comment didn't mean anything."
Gertie's sigh was unmistakable. "This is what I keep trying to tell Blaze. When murder's involved, everything is important. You need to find out what he meant by that."
"And how do I find out?"
"The guy was a reporter. He wrote stuff down, right?"
"Right." Gretchen remembered Ronny's recording unit.
"Start with a thorough search of his house. And Gretchen, watch your back."
The line went dead.
Gretchen's back was feeling extremely exposed and vulnerable.
"Ronny lived in the Palm Tree Trailer Park," Nina said.
"Off of Twenty-fourth Street."
"Did Daisy tell you that?"
Nina nodded. "Daisy never stops talking."
"She knows everything. It's amazing."
"She just wants to stretch out on the couch and watch television all day. She's clutching the remote like it's a newborn baby."
Gretchen sat at the worktable. Pieces from a balljointed doll body lay before her. "Nineteen pieces," she said, holding up a lower leg. "And it's been taken completely apart. How am I going to figure this out? I hope I don't have this many dolls to repair again tomorrow, or I'll never get through them all. I've hardly started this bunch."
"First day is always the busiest. You'll have time tomorrow at the show to catch up."
Gretchen looked at the assortment of dolls requiring restringing and shook her head in dismay.
"Perk up," Nina said. "I have something special for you."
"What?" Gretchen spun her stool around. "A present?
For me?"
"For you." Nina handed her a plastic bag with Beyond the Galaxy etched on the side. "Open it," she said, grinning. Gretchen peeked into the bag, then looked at Nina, puzzled. She extracted a pair of glasses with cardboard frames and indigo-colored lenses. "Are they 3-D glasses?"
"No, no. These are aura glasses. They're going to help you see auras."
Gretchen stared at Nina. According to her aunt, colors emanated from all matter, including cacti, doll collections, and wee-wee pads. She could divine the future, she claimed, by studying the color surrounding a human body. Gretchen had no hard evidence to back up Nina's outrageous claim, nor was she expecting Nina to ever prove it conclusively.
"Put them on," Nina said, excited.
Feeling foolish, Gretchen slipped on the flimsy frames.
"Now what?"
"Well? What do you see?"
Gretchen's gaze fell on Wobbles, her three-legged cat, who at the moment was occupied with a small, fuzzy ball. He batted it across the room and pounced, unaware that he had a physical handicap. "I don't know. I guess I see light around Wobbles."
Nina clapped her hands. "I knew you had the gift. Now, what color are you seeing?"
"I'm not seeing a color, just light." Gretchen pulled off the frames and looked at them. "The tint on the lenses must draw light."
"No, the tint has nothing to do with it," Nina said, indignant. "It's happening because of you. Keep working with them. With practice, you'll see colors, and then we'll talk about what the different colors represent. Eventually, you won't need the glasses. You'll be just like me."
Gretchen stifled a burst of laughter and turned it into a throat clearing. Just like her aunt? She didn't think so. No one on this planet was just like Nina.
"So you're telling me that you see different colors around everyone?"
"Almost everyone."
"Who's the exception?"
Nina squirmed.
"Come on, tell me." She was on to something.
"Men," Nina said, reluctantly. "I can't see male auras."
Gretchen chuckled.
"I can't figure men out either. I'm sure special glasses won't help."
"Do you like them?" Nina asked, meaning the glasses.
"Love them," Gretchen replied, meaning the men.
"You never know when they'll come in handy," Nina said. "Carry them in your purse."
"I will." Gretchen laid the glasses on the cluttered workbench. "I need to pack up more Ginny dolls for tomorrow. If the show had stayed open another few hours, I would have sold out."
She rummaged through her mother's sale stock and selected a safari Ginny, a graduation Ginny in a white robe, and a drum majorette Ginny in a red uniform. "These are so cute. I hate to sell them."
"You'll make your mother proud," Nina said, taking them from Gretchen and laying them on the worktable. She peered into the bag of dolls awaiting repair. "Look,"
she said, "Here's that package from our friendly postal employee. You never opened it."