Their bond continued to strengthen through her long, frightening recovery and the sudden death of Gretchen’s father in an automobile accident. Then came her mother’s compelling need for a new life, ripping out established roots, the move to Phoenix to be near her sister, abandoning her life in Boston. And Gretchen.
“She left in a rush,” Nina whispered.
“Yes,” Gretchen muttered, studying the contents of the kitchen. “She didn’t take the time to clean up, and that’s not like her.” She slipped her mother’s bracelet onto her wrist next to her own pink band. For good luck.
Gretchen wandered through the house. Her mother’s workshop was exactly the same as she remembered it from her last visit. A perpetual work in progress: dolls hanging from lines, dolls scattered over workbenches, heads, bodies, repair tools. Gretchen had helped her mother with the simpler repairs such as cleaning and restringing before the move to Phoenix. Gretchen smiled to herself. She had lived every little girl’s fantasy, rooms full of dolls and dresser drawers filled with doll clothing.
Nina made iced tea while Gretchen tugged Wobbles out of his carrier. He lifted his head and emitted a feeble meow, while Tutu’s nose twitched, catching his scent. Tutu tried to climb Gretchen’s leg.
“Call Tutu,” she said to Nina, doubting that Tutu even knew the come command. How could Nina train dogs to stay in purses when she couldn’t train Tutu in the basics? Yet her mother had insisted that Nina was the best purse dog trainer in the Valley of the Sun. Probably the only one, thought Gretchen, holding Wobbles in both arms. She’d never heard of the profession until Nina announced her new career move.
Nina picked up Tutu. Gretchen carried Wobbles down the hall to her mother’s bedroom and wrapped him in the bedding. He seemed to smile gratefully and was fast asleep before she walked out, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Nina’s iced tea smelled wonderfully fruity, and Gretchen sipped it slowly at the kitchen table. Nina plopped down beside her. “Tell me everything again,” Gretchen said. “I want to hear it all.”
“Early yesterday morning, hikers found Martha’s body at the base of a ridge on the mountain,” Nina began. “Information travels fast through the doll community, and by noon everyone knew about it, including your mother. In fact, I’m the one who told her.”
“What did she say when she found out?” Gretchen asked.
“Very little, small exclamations of shock, I suppose. We were all gasping at the suddenness of her death.” Nina picked up her glass with both hands and placed her elbows on the table, cradling the glass against her lips. “Then I told her the rest.”
“The rest?”
“Bonnie Albright’s son is a detective with the Phoenix Police Department. You remember Bonnie? She’s president of the local doll club, the Phoenix Dollers.”
Gretchen remembered. Red hair shellacked into an exaggerated flip, red-smeared lips, penciled lines where eyebrows used to be. “The Kewpie doll collector.”
Her mother had a few Kewpies in her own collection. The original ones had blue wings fanning from their necks. Gretchen liked the chubby dolls, each with a small lock of hair and cherubic grin.
“That’s Bonnie,” Nina said. “She collects Action Kewpies. Farmers, drummers. Her son, Matt, called her right away because Martha didn’t have any identification with her, and he needed Bonnie’s help figuring out who she was.”
Gretchen frowned. “I don’t understand. How did he know Bonnie could help?”
“Because Martha had a doll parasol in the pocket of her shorts, and since his mother collected dolls, he thought she might know her. As it turns out, she did. Bonnie went down to the morgue, and sure enough, it was Martha Williams.”
Nina, a solemn expression on her face, set the glass on the table. “Poor Martha.”
“It sounds like she had a hard life,” Gretchen said.
Nina nodded, then noticed Tutu dancing at her feet. “Let’s take Tutu outside. The little dear needs to go.”
Tutu started yapping.
Gretchen watched Nina dig through a pouch as big as a baby diaper bag. Out came a white folded pad.
“What’s that?”
“You’ll see. Follow me.”
Gretchen smiled inwardly. Aunt Nina was as quirky as quirky comes. Stores her shoes on top of the refrigerator so scorpions can’t climb in. Had all the silver fillings removed from her teeth so she wouldn’t get mercury poisoning. Believes she has special psychic power and can see auras emanating from people. Gretchen wouldn’t be surprised if Nina believed that space ships flew out of holes in Antarctica.
The sweltering late morning heat hit Gretchen with enough force that