Dolly Departed - By Deb Baker Page 0,64

You're doing great."

April's eyes bulged. She stared down the aisle. "Here comes one. Oh, no."

"You'll be fine." Gretchen didn't believe it for a second. April looked like she was about to have a fatal heart attack.

"I'm going to faint."

"Put your head between your knees."

April complied. The big woman's upper torso swung down. Her cowboy hat fell to the ground. The clown approached. He stopped in front of them. "Don't look,"

Gretchen warned April. "Stay where you are and take deep breaths."

"Word on the street," the clown said, "is that you're looking for Daisy."

Gretchen saw April turn her upside-down head to the side just enough to see the clown's big, red feet. "You're okay." Gretchen patted her back reassuringly.

Without a word, April heaved forward and crumpled facedown between Gretchen and the clown. No one in the stands seemed to notice. All eyes were focused on the cowboys.

"Too much to drink?" the clown asked.

"You need to leave before she opens her eyes and sees you again," Gretchen said, squatting beside April, wondering what to do. Just then, the crowd seemed to part. Gretchen looked up and saw Matt Albright weaving toward them. Nina and Britt appeared next to her, carrying trays filled with food and drinks. April started to move.

The clown trotted away. Gretchen watched him until he stopped at an exit door and looked back at her. "Help April," Gretchen said to Nina, rising from her prone friend. She was afraid to take her eyes off the clown for fear of losing sight of him. "I'll be right back."

She followed him out the door and into the darkness. He moved quickly, heading away from the lights of the parking lot. Gretchen hesitated under a light, aware that she would become vulnerable to an attack if she continued. She was putting herself in a position that she'd been careful to avoid her whole life. Her mother would flip if she knew Gretchen was chasing a man through the night without protection. So would Nina. But she had to know what had happened to Daisy.

Wait. She still had Nina's lipstick pepper spray. It was buried somewhere in her purse, where it wasn't doing her a bit of good at the moment. Next time, she'd have it ready.

All Gretchen could see in the darkness was the clown's white face paint. He'd stopped moving. "Where is Daisy?"

she asked.

"Daisy sends a message."

"Tell me." Gretchen was constantly amazed at the homeless community's communications network. She wondered how it worked.

"Meet her at midnight."

"Tonight?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Nacho's."

"How did she know where to find me?"

The clown's teeth flashed when he smiled, but he didn't answer.

Gretchen relaxed slightly. He wasn't going to attack her.

"What if I hadn't been at the rodeo tonight?"

"Then we would have found you tomorrow. Daisy says come alone."

The clown turned his white face away and faded into the night.

Gretchen used her cell phone to contact Nina. Matt was still attending to April. "She's playing it for all it's worth,"

Nina said. "She's drooling all over him."

"Tell her to snap out of it," Gretchen said, walking toward the car. "Meet me outside. I'm not coming back in."

The last thing she wanted was an introduction to Matt's latest conquest.

* 27 *

Gretchen stood in the darkness under a viaduct. Cars roared by overhead. Even at this late hour, the city was alive with activity. Streaks of light from passing cars exposed graffiti on the sides of train cars parked on the crisscross of tracks nearby. Ten minutes to twelve. She had worried about her safety at the rodeo. That was nothing compared to where she found herself now.

If she screamed, no one would hear, no one would come to her aid. If she was murdered tonight, her body wouldn't be found for days, or weeks, or ever. Yet Daisy was at home in this isolated corner of Phoenix where shadows constantly shifted and social outcasts roamed. Gretchen didn't see any signs of life at the base of the massive concrete supports. Nacho's home. She remembered her surprise at that. A homeless person with a home. The destitute man usually lived inside his head, inebriated more often than sober, but Daisy loved him. They had a better relationship than Gretchen had ever had. She put her personal problems out of her mind. There would be time later for self-pity.

Nacho had reconstructed his home several times. He called it upgrading. When weather conditions destroyed one of his makeshift homes, he built again in the same place, risking flash floods to live here instead of in one of