Martha’s bag,” Gretchen said. “The burglar took the bag.”
“I didn’t tell a soul,” Bonnie said, her knuckles white around the comb.
Nina pulled a chair out and sat down. She leaned across the table. “I’ve known you a long time, Bonnie, and you don’t keep secrets well. You must have called someone, told someone.”
Bonnie continued combing, looking down at the wig. “Do you know why I wear a wig? Because I’m practically bald on top of my head, that’s why. Just like a man. You know how embarrassing that has been for me. And wearing a wig requires special attention. I have to watch out for rotating fans and revolving doors. I live in constant fear that my wig will fly off and expose me for what I really am.”
Nina rolled her eyes to the ceiling, and Gretchen waited patiently beside her.
“I’m sure it’s been hard for you,” Nina said, sliding her eyes back to Bonnie. “But we are talking about breaking and entering and destruction of property, and we need answers.”
“I kept my wig a secret, and I kept Martha’s bag a secret, too.”
“We never asked you to keep it a secret,” Gretchen said gently. “You can tell anyone you want to tell. Why did you think it was a secret?”
Bonnie jabbed the wig on her head, roughly adjusting it, the hair still matted like a Barbie doll’s crown of knots after making the rounds through a group of toddlers. A trapped look formed in Bonnie’s eyes. “I didn’t tell anyone because Martha had my key and I’ve been trying to get it back and I thought it might be in that bag and I didn’t want anyone else to know. There. Are you happy?” The words came fast, spilling over each other in one long breath.
Gretchen gaped at Bonnie, wondering if she had heard correctly. Detective Albright’s mother? What surprised Gretchen the most was the ease with which they had forced the truth from her. Bonnie crumbled with little resistance. Detective work might be easier than she originally thought.
Nina found her voice first. “You broke in, stole the bag, and hung Caroline’s doll?”
Bonnie held her hands up in protest. “No, of course not. I don’t know why anyone would do that. I wanted to get my key back before it surfaced and I became a suspect, too. Matty would be so angry. But I never went to Caroline’s house. You have to believe me.”
“I do,” Nina said, and Gretchen wondered if Nina’s aura analysis skills were working again. She also wondered what color Bonnie’s aura would be. Red, she guessed, to match her hair and teddy bears’ bows. “The key was in the bag, Bonnie. But why would anyone else steal it?” Nina asked.
No one said anything.
An idea dawned on Gretchen, and she wanted to thump her head with her cast. What little mind she had left could fit inside the French fashion doll’s beaded purse. Dense. Dense. Dense. “We didn’t tell anyone what we found in the bag,” she said. “So maybe the thief expected to find something else. The strangled doll might have been an angry afterthought.”
Bonnie nodded her snarled head in agreement. “That makes sense.”
“It’s possible,” Nina said.
“Tell us what happened, Bonnie,” Gretchen said. “Why did Martha have a key to your house?”
“If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone.”
“We promise,” Nina said.
Bonnie looked at Gretchen. “You, too?”
“Me, too.”
“About a week before Martha died,” Bonnie began, “she came to my house, disheveled and agitated. At first, I thought she’d been drinking, and I had reservations about even letting her in, much less doing her a favor. But Martha insisted repeatedly that someone was stealing from her and that she needed a safe place to store something that meant a lot to her.”
“She wouldn’t tell you what it was?” Gretchen asked.
“She said she would tell me when she brought it over. That she had to find it first. She said she needed several hiding spots, not just one, because one hadn’t worked before. I felt sorry for her. She cried and carried on like her closest family member had died, and in a weak moment, I told her where I keep a spare key in case she came back when I was gone. Behind that little Hummel picture inside the screen porch, I told her. That’s where I keep it. Or kept it.”
“What happened?” Nina asked.
“A few days later, the key disappeared. I didn’t find anything hidden in the house, but she was