Part 13 (1/2)
”Caroline can't come,” Nina said. ”She has a tip on acollection 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 up with. I think we can wrap this up in a few hours.”
They settled in. Gretchen was continually amazed at Charlie's gift for interior design with the tiny, detailed pieces, the unity of her composition, and the precision of the scale. Gretchen paused from her work on the backyard scene to watch Britt and Nina. Britt had chosen the Victorian bedroom scene, carefully placing each item where she thought it might have gone. By the hint of a smile on her face, Gretchen could tell she truly enjoyed working with the miniatures.
”I'm finished,” April called, proudly showing them the orchard and church scene. ”I found a blue velvet hat in my pile. I'm going to add it to the leftovers, since I don't know where it goes. I think it was made from a cardboard pattern. Isn't it cute?”
”Charlie used simple household supplies for many of her projects,” Britt said to April, who hung on every word.
”She was very creative.”
”Making minis would be fun, especially making the little dolls,” April said. ”I'd love to try it.”
”I'm starting a baby sculpting cla.s.s soon. Why don't you sign up?”
”Count me in.”
”Here comes someone I'd like you to meet,” Britt called out, looking toward the door. ”My daughter, Melany.”
Britt's daughter was in her twenties, slightly overweight, and wore no makeup, not even mascara. She was frumpy next to her mother, who bustled over to give her daughter a kiss on the cheek. Gretchen couldn't see muchresemblance--Britt with her tailored blouse and immaculate French twist, Melany in rumpled shorts and a top that was way too tight.
”Bernard's been taken to the hospital,” Melany said to her mother, an almost hostile expression on her face. ”I thought you'd want to know.”
”What happened?” Britt clutched her throat.
”A jar of bug juice exploded.”
Had Gretchen heard her correctly? Bug juice? It sounded like an insect killer, or a name for summer camp juice drinks.
”Bug juice is a concoction Bernard uses,” Melany said when she noticed the other women's lost expressions. ”It turns new wood a grayish brown. He uses it to age wood details for his dollhouses.”
”I warned him several times about mixing chemicals,”
Britt said. ”Is he going to be all right?”
”I think so, but his arm was injured.” The coldness was back in her voice. ”The bug juice hit like shrapnel from a bomb. I had stopped at his house to deliver the miniature orchid bouquet for a wedding display, and his neighbor told me what happened.”
”How awful,” Britt said.
”What is this bug juice made from,” Gretchen asked, ”that it has the capacity to explode?”
”To get the effect he's looking for in the wood, he uses an old-timer's recipe,” Britt explained. ”He puts rusty nails in a gla.s.s jar, then pours vinegar over them. He's supposed to put the lid on loosely and leave it for a few weeks. If the lid is too tight, it can produce a gas, and the pressure builds.”
”The poor old man,” April said.
Britt picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder.
”Melany and I will check on him,” she said. ”We'll let you know.”
After Britt and Melany left, Gretchen told Nina and April about the visit to Ryan's house.
”Do the police think he murdered his mother?” Nina asked.
”I don't know. We'll have to wait and see what happens, but I a.s.sume he's a prime suspect, especially because he's an addict.”
”Let's take a break and drive over to Joseph's Dream Dolls,” April said. ”I love that place, and Joseph could use some company. He was so distraught when he came by.”
Gretchen picked up a miniature lamp. ”Joseph was at the parade on Sat.u.r.day, but he wasn't here at Charlie's. Mom said he had been invited, so why was he walking in the opposite direction when I saw him? I'd really like to ask him a few questions.”
”Let's finish here first,” Nina suggested.
Twenty minutes later, they had completed the room boxes. Gretchen looked at the finished scenes: a Victorian bedroom and sitting room, a man's dressing room and bedroom, an orchard near a church, and a dilapidated backyard. How did the tiny peanut b.u.t.ter jar found under Charlie's body fit in? Gretchen glanced over at the fifth room box, at its hasty construction. She wondered how it would have fit in with the others. If only Charlie had had time to finish it.
After taking pictures with her cell phone of the completed settings, Gretchen tucked Nimrod into her purse. Nina had her hands full with Tutu and her current client, Enrico. Enrico watched the action suspiciously from his Mexican tapestry purse, ready to defend himself from the entire world if necessary. Short-dog syndrome, Short-dog syndrome, Gretchen thought. Like short-man syndrome. A Napoleon complex. Not that Matt had that problem, although he wasn't very tall. Gretchen, at five eight, could look right into his darkand stormy eyes without tilting her head much at all. Why was she thinking about him? Gretchen thought. Like short-man syndrome. A Napoleon complex. Not that Matt had that problem, although he wasn't very tall. Gretchen, at five eight, could look right into his darkand stormy eyes without tilting her head much at all. Why was she thinking about him? Geez. Get over it. Geez. Get over it. Did every thought have to lead back to the detective? Did it? Did every thought have to lead back to the detective? Did it?
”I'll drive,” crash-p.r.o.ne April announced.
”I'll drive,” Nina said immediately.
”Let's go with Nina,” Gretchen said. No one in their right mind would drive with Fender Bender Mama. Nina darted through traffic in her red vintage Impala. She'd had the chrome polished recently, and it glistened in the warm Arizona sun.
Gretchen found herself wedged into the backseat with the canines. Between the three dogs, they'd managed to streak and smudge both back pa.s.senger windows. Gretchen's clothes were covered in dog hair.
She had given up on keeping the dogs from racing across her lap. Any minute now she expected Enrico to lunge for her throat. He stared at her with his beady little eyes, waiting for her to make a wrong move.
Why am I the one in the backseat?
April glanced back. ”Sorry,” she said to Gretchen. ”But I really don't fit back there. Maybe in a day or two when I lose more weight.”
”No problem,” Gretchen said, not meaning it.
”I think we could solve this case,” April said. ”Break it wide open. Let's do a little digging and see what happens.”
”We're the Mod Squad,” Nina said, veering around a slow car ahead of them.
Gretchen slid sideways. Enrico snarled.
”Charlie's Angels,” April said.
”Without Charlie,” Gretchen joined in.
”Detective Matt Albright can be Charlie,” Nina said.
”No,” Gretchen said. ”He can't.” She saw Nina and April give each other a glance.
Nina checked her rearview mirror. ”Oh, no,” she said, slowing down.
”Yikes,” April said, glancing in her side mirror. Nina changed to the right lane and came to a stop along the curb. Gretchen looked back and saw a Phoenix squad car pull in behind them. ”Were you speeding?” she asked Nina. Nina shrugged. ”I wasn't paying attention.” She shuffled through her purse, rolled down her window, and stuck her driver's license out.
The cop bent down and studied each of them through Nina's window. All three dogs watched out the back driver's side window. Enrico growled. The cop shot him a nononsense look. ”Do you know why I stopped you?” he said to Nina.