Dolled Up for Murder - By Deb Baker Page 0,23

distinctive sniff from the backseat where Tutu rode solo.

“Gretchen, are you listening to me?”

“Yes. But I’m confused.”

“Pay attention to everything that’s happening around you; watch people’s reactions. Add everything up, and remember that nothing unusual that happens will be a coincidence. Trust your instincts.”

Gretchen smiled. That’s exactly what Nina always said.

“And find the dead woman’s bag of clothes.”

Gretchen was startled. “What bag of clothes?”

“You said she was homeless, so she doesn’t have a home you can search for clues. Normally I’d advise you to break in and have a look around. But this isn’t a normal situation. She must have had a few personal things. Where are they, and what are they?”

Gretchen thought about Nacho’s garbage bag and Daisy’s shopping cart. Even though Martha lost all her worldly possessions, she may have collected personal odds and ends since then.

“I’ll check it out. Thanks, Aunt Gertie.”

“Have you seen your Aunt Nina lately?” Gertie asked. “That’s one goofball. Is she still baby-talking to that spoiled dog of hers and carrying silly miniature dogs in her handbag?”

“Aunt Gert says hi,” Gretchen said after disconnecting.

“I heard the whole thing,” Nina said, indignant. “The woman’s voice carries like a bad virus.

The shuttle squealed to a halt on Michigan Avenue, and Caroline joined the crowd of travelers surging to the sidewalk. The drops of rain had turned into a windy squall but subsided as quickly as it came, and Caroline was grateful for the reprieve. She walked briskly away, ducked under a breeze-way, and cut into a department store entryway. Clutching her laptop securely to her, she waited against the wall. No one appeared to be following.

Good. She had taken too many precautions to lose now. They would find her car soon, if they hadn’t already. The car, parked far from the Phoenix airport, would buy her more time. Time. Everything depended on her speed and perfect, exquisite timing. She considered calling her sister, but Nina could be unpredictable. A wild card in this game of skill could upset her lead. No. Nina had done enough damage by bringing her daughter to Phoenix.

Thinking of Gretchen drove her back onto the wet sidewalk, and she turned away from Lake Michigan and headed in the direction that would lead her to the doll. The Chicago air hung thick and humid in spite of dark clouds spinning overhead.

She steeled herself for the long walk ahead.

7

Although an imprint is not always a foolproof indication of authenticity, many antique dolls were marked with a letter or number to identify the maker and country where the doll originated. These identifying symbols were incised on the back of the head, under the wig, or on the back of the shoulder. The early Bru doll bore a circle and dot on the back of the neck.

—From World of Dolls by Caroline Birch

“No,” Nina said, hanging up. “Bonnie says the only thing Martha had in her possession when she died was the parasol, the note, and the clothes on her body. And she knows that for certain, because she identified Martha for the police.”

“Okay, we have a starting point. We have to find out where Martha kept her belongings, if she had any, and we have to find the man who threatened me.” Gretchen said, watching Nina select two of her mother’s Shirley Temple dolls from a cabinet and arrange them on a bench next to the front door. She fluffed their costumes and carefully placed them in position.

“Do you think it’s wise to approach someone who recently threatened you?” Nina stood back and admired her handiwork.

“Do I have a choice?” Gretchen responded. “If you have a better idea, please share it.”

Wobbles made a brief appearance but stalked away when he spotted Nimrod and Tutu. If he was developing a friendship with the dogs, Gretchen couldn’t detect it.

“What are you doing?” Gretchen asked, staring at the dolls.

“Preparing in case Bonnie’s son shows up here again. Detective Albright is in for a little surprise. No more hiding while his backup crew does his dirty work for him. With these dolls as sentinels, he won’t dare step foot in here again.”

“Like gargoyles? They’ll scare him away?”

“Exactly.” She rubbed her hands together and checked the watch on her wrist. “Heavens! It’s two o’clock. We missed lunch, and I’m starving. Let’s see what we can come up with. Come, Tutu and Nimrod, for a leg stretch on the patio.”

They bolted off, and Nina returned while Gretchen poked in the refrigerator and pulled out the leftovers from Larry’s visit that