Dolled Up for Murder - By Deb Baker Page 0,48

about any living person. She would have died for them before she’d let anyone take them.”

Maybe she did die for them.

“Last I saw her, she was hopelessly lost in one of many bouts of what I called schizophrenic paranoia. She showed up here at the shop. Someone was always out to get her. Nations plotted to overthrow her. This time the secret agent stalking her was someone she called ‘the Inspector.’ I assumed she meant the state of Arizona was finally going to force her into a rehab program. Too bad they didn’t move a little quicker.”

Nina came around the corner, her face as white as unpainted china.

“What’s wrong?” Gretchen asked, afraid to hear the answer.

“They found your mother’s car,” Nina said, her voice thick and shaky, “in northern Scottsdale.”

“And?”

Gretchen watched Nina’s mouth slowly form the words. “The car left the road and ran into a drainage ditch. It must have rolled several times, because it landed upside down.”

Gretchen’s hands flew to her mouth. “No,” she said in disbelief. “Is she . . . ?”

“Caroline’s in critical condition at Scottsdale Memorial. She’s in surgery right now.”

15

When restoring an antique doll head, the aim is to make the repair as inconspicuous as possible by simulating the original glazes and colors. A successful repair depends on a perfect blend between the surface and the cracked area and on successfully matching colors. Flesh is the color used most often, and it can be mixed by adding small amounts of red, yellow, and brown to white paint until the desired skin tone is produced.

—From World of Dolls by Caroline Birch

While Gretchen drove to the hospital, Nina dialed several phone numbers before reaching someone who could help. Larry Gerney agreed to meet them in the visitor’s parking lot and arrived at the same time they did. Hurrying, they transferred Tutu and Nimrod to Larry’s car. Gretchen handed over the key to her mother’s house. “It’s much closer for you than driving them all the way to Nina’s,” she said. “Leave the dogs there.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Larry said and pulled away as they ran into the hospital.

Nina’s ability to think in a linear path under duress amazed Gretchen. By the time they arrived at the hospital, Nina had notified most of the Birch family members across the country, arranged for pet care with Larry, and had even left a message for Steve to return her call. Gretchen, on the other hand, had driven in silence, almost paralyzed by fear and shock.

Now she wanted to stand up and scream at everyone—at the dispassionate receptionist attending the waiting room desk, at the nurses strolling through in their impenetrable groups, quietly murmuring among themselves and consulting clipboards. She wanted to scream at Nina for her endless chatter.

This couldn’t be happening. She stared out a hospital window at pavement and parked cars and at nothing at all. Nina forced her to take a cup of coffee, but her one good arm felt too weak to lift it to her lips. Instead of drinking the coffee, she clutched it like a lifeline.

Hospital sounds whirled around her. An overhead paging system called for Dr. Kay. Mechanical noises created by massive generators churned, and carts creaked down harshly lighted halls that smelled faintly of chemicals and sanitizers.

Someone walked by and stopped. Gretchen turned her head.

“She suffered a subdural hematoma,” a woman in scrubs said. “A severe head injury. She’s in surgery now to relieve the pressure and control the bleeding. We won’t know anything for several hours.”

“Did anyone speak to her?” Nina asked.

“She was unconscious when she arrived.”

“Is the bleeding in her brain?” Nina said while Gretchen remained speechless.

“No,” the woman explained. “It’s the area external to the brain, below the inner layer of the dura.”

Nina nodded and gripped Gretchen’s fingers below her cast.

“Thank you,” Gretchen murmured and the woman walked through doors clearly labeled No Admittance.

In novels, the heroine never cries, Gretchen thought, watching Nina dab her eyes with a balled-up tissue. Gretchen looked away, wondering who the heroine could be in this real-life drama. She didn’t know why, but the sight of other people crying always brought tears to her own eyes.

Two uniformed police, stationed at the end of the hall, stood guard. Because of Caroline’s arrest warrant status, they would remain at the hospital until she awoke and was able to be questioned.

If she awoke.

If. If. If . . .

Larry returned from taking the dogs home and sat down beside them, visibly agitated. Detective Albright appeared and strode