Goodbye Dolly - By Deb Baker Page 0,81

collectible."

Favorite, like a million dollars favorite? Gretchen was sure that Steve had delivered a doll filled with diamonds, or at least one that the killer thought was filled with diamonds. After killing Percy and failing to find the gems, he must have suspected that Chiggy had them.

But if she did have them at one time, they must be missing now. Why else would she be so skittish?

"You know that Percy was murdered?" she asked Steve.

"Yes. No one knows why; nothing was missing, and he didn't seem to have any enemies. Quite a likable fellow, really." Steve continued. "The police thought Percy must have surprised a burglar in the act, the burglar killed him, then panicked and ran away without stealing anything. What a tragedy." He paused for a respectable moment of silence. "Chiggy was beside herself with joy when I presented the doll to her."

"I bet," Gretchen muttered.

"A final parting gift from her brother. She seemed to recognize it."

"What makes you say that?"

"She said something like 'at last, I thought it was lost.'

Then she cried."

"Do you remember what she did with the doll?"

"I'm not sure."

"Think, Steve. It might be important."

"I think she may have added it to another box of dolls. Yes, she did. One she planned on keeping, because she made a big deal out of it, pointing out to everyone that they shouldn't take that box."

Gretchen stared at the Kewpies on the worktable. Chiggy wanted to throw out the badly reproduced Kewpies. They really were worthless. Chiggy had hidden Percy's Kewpie doll inside the box of Ginnys.

* 36 *

Bert's Liquor Store was located in a run-down neighborhood in central Phoenix. Its less-than-distinguished features included a cheap rectangular facade, an enormous yellow sign with exposed gray metal where the paint had peeled away, and questionable clientele at the store's drivethrough service window. Gretchen arrived in the late afternoon when she hoped the store's most loyal customers would be thinking about that first jolt of the evening. She sat in her car with the doors locked and thought about her next move. An hour passed while she considered her options and watched a steady stream of people arrive at the store empty-handed, and leave clutching brown paper bags. The three liquor store bags that the Kewpies had arrived in were lying on the seat next to her. Not that they would do her any good. She couldn't march into the store and demand to know what they had contained and who the alcohol had been sold to. Although, if she acted slightly off, she would fit right in with the current clientele. She was wasting her time. She'd give it another half hour and then leave.

What had Aunt Gertie said to her on the phone?

Something like she'd know him when she saw him. Well, she didn't know anyone coming or going. No one even remotely familiar.

You'll know the culprit the minute you spot him, that's what Aunt Gertie had said.

Or her.

The only familiar character Gretchen had seen so far was approaching the liquor store this minute and was about to pass right by the Echo.

She sat up straighter.

With her shopping cart, Daisy would have blended right in with the rest of the street people. But Daisy's colorful attire stood out from the crowd, and Gretchen was able to spot her at a distance. She wore her red hat and purple sundress, and she sashayed along the sidewalk as if she was the queen of her very own Red Hat parade.

What was she doing near the liquor store? She didn't drink, as far as Gretchen knew. Daisy didn't have to drink to escape reality. She had her own source of hallucinations. Daisy curtsied to a passing pedestrian, a wide smile on her face.

"Hey, Daisy," Gretchen called out the window when she came even with the Echo.

Daisy started, jerking quickly around, panic flickering across her face. Then she saw who it was. "Gretchen, you scared me. I didn't see you." She moved closer. "What are you doing here? Hey, little doggie."

Gretchen thought quickly while Daisy reached in and let Nimrod lick her hand. "I . . . ah . . . stopped to buy some wine. How was the audition?"

"Same as always. They were looking for a younger actress. That's my problem." Daisy leaned one arm on the car, the other on her waist. "When I was young, they said I was too young. Now that I'm older, they say I'm too old. I can't win. One of these days my star