[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
of the day right outside the shop.
No. That must be dear Gretchen s own car, and she is
locked out of it. Britt smiles smugly to herself while she
watches Gretchen move to the driver s window and twist
and pry with the wire hanger.
No luck. The snoop tries again, both sides, determined.
After the second try, she goes back inside. Harder than it
looks, isn t it?
Britt cringes at the thought of strangers in the shop,
rifling through Charlie s things, her things. The work she
has put into her miniature dolls! She s a professional arti-
san, not some hack. Twenty years in this business, and she
is the best there is. Sculpting all her tiny creations, no kits
or premade molds for her. Firing them in her very own
kiln. Then wigging and dressing the darlings to be exact
replicas of anything your little heart desires.
Charlie, for example, wanting those tiny dolls, each
with specific requirements regarding sex, size, and age.
And for what? That was the question Britt kept asking her
friend. And Charlie just smiling. You ll see.
Well, she had.
Yes, she had.
Britt s eyes try to penetrate the window. If only she could
hear what is being said in the shop, and if only she had a
clearer view. What do they hope to accomplish by putting a
silly display back together?
The one with the pretty gray hair is familiar, she s been
around before. Her name is Caroline Birch, another of
Charlie s friends. She must be Gretchen s mother. Her
friendship with Charlie wasn t nearly as close as the rela-
tionship Britt had with Charlie.
Britt feels such physical pain at her loss.
She thinks of Ryan Maize, Charlie s drug-addicted,
48 Deb Baker
pathetic excuse for a son. Ryan is somewhere in the city of
Phoenix, panhandling with other homeless, empty-eyed
derelicts. Poor Charlie. She had actually tried to help the
ingrate. How many rehabilitation centers before she finally
gave up? How much money down the drain?
Britt stares at Gretchen s car. What luck that she has a
few sharp sculpting tools in her purse. She glances at the
bookstore where Melany is roaming the shelves, delving
into possible purchases. She ll be a while longer.
Britt steps into the street, using the shadows for cover.
" 7 "
From the sidewalk in front of Mini Maize, Gretchen watched
the Scottsdale squad car pull to the curb. After a long work-
day, the others had gone their separate ways. One went north,
another south, finishing the day as they had started, as polar
opposites.
Caroline had waited around until Gretchen shooed her
off. Her mother had enough on her mind without dealing
with Gretchen s problems as well.
They never suspected that she had managed to lock her-
self out of her car. At least it hadn t been running. She d
done that once, too.
It was a good thing she had a little extra puppy food in a
plastic container in her purse, or Nimrod would be com-
plaining loudly and insistently by now. Come to think of it,
she had a little of everything in her purse. Except the
proper tools to break into her car.
Gretchen could imagine her aunt s reaction if she knew
about the lockout, especially with Nina in such a snit. She
would have had to listen to a long lecture about the condition
of her workshop, and her purse, and who knew what else.
Officer Kline stepped out of the police vehicle with a
long rod in his hand. Not you again, he said, wryly. To-
morrow, when I transfer out, the department will have to
hire another full-time officer to deal with you.
He had a twinkle in his eye. What a ham.
50 Deb Baker
Rumor has it you re impersonating a traffic cop, she
said with a smile.
Never trust a Phoenix detective. He ll expose you
every time.
How did you know Matt told me?
Albright is like my Siamese twin. I can t get rid of him
no matter what I do. We re attached at the brain.
Ah, two with the mental capacity of one.
Do you want help, or should I leave you standing on
the curb?
Gretchen moved aside.
He inserted the long metal tool through the top of the
driver s side window. The lock popped open. There you
go, he said.
Thank you so much. I m embarrassed.
Don t be. It happens all the time. It was your karma for
the day. Couldn t be changed. He stepped back and took a
good look at the car. Look at that.
Gretchen followed his gaze. The tire was flat.
He pushed on it. Not much air left. You must have
driven over something, a piece of glass or a nail.
Gretchen scanned the street for the Wife. It was exactly
the kind of thing Kayla Albright was capable of. The woman
had been stalking her since the moment Gretchen had met
Matt. She d been relatively harmless, until now. This was
getting much more serious.
Can you tell if my tire has been tampered with? she
asked.
He shrugged. Hard to say. Maybe an auto mechanic
would know.
Now what?
Now you wait for the service truck, which I m going to
call for you.
Can t you change it for me?
Dolly Departed 51
Puh-leeze, he said. What you citizens expect.
Gretchen stared at the tire, then out at the street. She
saw Matt Albright trot across Scottsdale Road midblock
and step onto the curb, his dark hair wind-tossed, his face
handsome and tanned but taut. Edgy.
Then he spotted her and smiled. What s going on? he
said, approaching.
Do you know how to change a tire? Gretchen asked,
pointing at the flat.
Hey, Kline, Matt called out to the Scottsdale detec-
tive, who was digging in the squad s trunk. I ll handle it
from here.
You don t know what you re getting yourself into.
She s that bad, huh?
You know it. The Scottsdale detective hopped into the
police vehicle and drove off.
Matt leaned up against her car and crossed his arms.
The tension she had seen on his face when he crossed the
street was gone. He smiled at her.
I hate to spoil your day, Gretchen said. But your wife
punctured my tire.
His smile slid sideways. Are you sure?
Not exactly. I mean, I didn t see her do it, but who else
would do something so vicious?
You re awfully suspicious, considering she hasn t
done anything to you up until now.
Stalking me doesn t count?
She followed you a few times, I threatened to lock her
up, she said she wouldn t bother you again.
I can see the warning was effective, Gretchen said,
pointing again at the tire.
You probably drove over a nail. He bent over the tire
to examine it. I tell you what. I ll change it for you. Do
you have a spare?
52 Deb Baker
Gretchen nodded, opening the trunk.
And I ll buy a new one to replace the flat. How s that?
You re agreeable tonight.
I hate to admit it, but it looks like someone did slash your
tire. See here. He ran his fingers along the tire. Gretchen
bent down. Sure enough, there was a long slit in the rubber.
We can t be sure Kayla did it. A sparkly smile as he
stood up, his dark eyes locking onto hers. He was only a
few inches taller than Gretchen s five eight. Just the way
she liked a man. But I ll buy you dinner, too, he said, as
compensation. He reached to give Nimrod a pat on the
head. We ll drop Nimrod at your house first.
He still knows his hide command. The detective was
standing way too close.
Is that a yes? Matt moved to the trunk and pulled out
the spare tire.
It s a maybe. I m worried about the rest of my prop-
erty. I wouldn t want my house to burn down while we
were dining unaware.
I thought you had nerves of steel. What happened?
Don t you like a little excitement in your life?
You ll have to assume responsibility for her actions.
I always have. Is that a yes?
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]