complicated. For example, who'll drive your car?"
"You can give me a ride back."
"This gets sillier by the second."
"You started it." Using the same tactic Ryan had. Blame it on the other guy.
Matt raised his arms in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, let's go."
Gretchen looked around at the boarded-up houses and litter in the yards. "This isn't the best neighborhood to leave my car. Or to be walking."
"Anyone bothers us, I'll shoot them." He flashed that great smile, swung his head to check for cars, and jaywalked across Van Buren. Gretchen trailed him across, then quickly fell in next to him.
They silently cut around a slow pedestrian, and Matt's arm brushed against hers. She sucked in her breath, feeling young and foolish. Not a bad feeling. Not at all.
Matt glanced at her. "Are you finished at Mini Maize?"
"Probably today." Should she tell him about the miniature bloody weapons and the tiny, painted stains on some of the furnishings? Wouldn't he know about them from the crime scene analysis? "We found interesting things in the display cases. Weapons, fake blood on some of the furniture."
He nodded. "We assumed that was part of some crazy doll collector's scene." Another grin. "Charlie's prints were the only ones on them. They have nothing to do with her murder."
"I disagree," Gretchen said. What else was new? They disagreed on so much. Matt might send jolts of electricity through her entire nervous system, but his wattage wasn't entirely compatible with hers. Kind of like putting cables on the wrong battery terminals.
"Let's have your take on it then," Matt said. "As if I'm not going to hear it anyway."
"I think she realized that she'd been poisoned and tried to make it to the door. She took the time to knock the display over as a clue, in case she didn't survive. There's something strange about the display. I can't put my finger on it though. Oh, I know--" Gretchen stopped, snapped her fingers as though she just thought of it. She waited for him to stop walking, too. "Maybe it's because of the miniature peanut butter jar. You know the one? It was under her body."
His jaw dropped open. "Where did you get that information?"
"I know who I didn't get it from."
They approached Matt's unmarked car. Daisy was nowhere in sight. She must be at the audition, if the audition was real. It was hard to tell what was reality and what was fantasy when it came to the homeless woman. Gretchen looked at Matt. She had thrown out a hasty theory, but it made sense. "I'm sure you're right," she said.
"The display case has nothing to do with Charlie's or Sara's murder. Nothing at all."
"You can't fool me. I hear the sarcasm in your voice. I'm not your ordinary insensitive male, you know. I have feelings." Matt opened the passenger door for her. "Hop in."
* 15 *
"Nina and I had breakfast at a dog-friendly restaurant,"
Britt said, laughing. "Can you believe it?" Britt and Nina were back at work at Mini Maize. If you could call it work. Nina laughed, too. "The restaurant had a patio with a fire hydrant fountain and our waitress served mutt muffins. Not to us, of course, but the dogs loved them. Britt and I had coffee and people muffins."
"I'll be talking in my sleep again tonight," Britt said laughing along. "Or barking."
"You really should see a hypnotist," Nina relied. "You have to be losing lots of sleep."
Nina, Gretchen decided, could benefit from a little hypnosis herself. Her aunt put all her attention and affection into animals. She needed a male companion to ground her. Although she certainly looked content enough at the moment. Tutu and Nimrod played at their feet. Enrico watched from the safety of Nina's leg, peeking out beside her painted toenails, snarling a warning whenever the other dogs came too close.
April swung through the door, carrying her usual bag of subs. "I lost another five pounds," she announced, setting the bag on the counter.
"Five pounds a day is incredible," Gretchen said, not really believing it was possible. But April did look thinner.
"Caroline can't come," Nina said. "She has a tip on a collection of antique dolls that's for sale. She's driving to Fountain Hills to look at them."
The piles on the card table were still as they had been yesterday. After Gretchen's encounter with Ryan, all work on the room boxes had ceased for the day. "Let's each take a room box," she said, "and see what we come