To style a tangled mohair wig you need to learn about the hair fashions from your doll's era. Make sure you match the hairstyle to the doll. You can use small permanent wave rollers, hair- dresser's end papers, hair clips, bobby pins, plenty of hairspray, and your imagination. A bit of warning though-of all the wig materials, mohair is the most difficult to work with. First prac- tice on human hair or synthetic wigs. If proper care is taken, your new coiffed style will last another hundred years.
- From
World of Dolls
by Caroline Birch Early Tuesday morning, Gretchen climbed Camelback Mountain at a brisk speed and stood at the very summit overlooking the awakening city and the rising sun. Back to normal. Back to her life. It felt good.
Today, she would set an original mohair wig in curlers. She reflected back on her first styling effort. She'd rolled all the curls away from the doll's face and had to redo the entire thing. Live and learn.
Learn and live
. Isn't that the advice she'd given her friends? But she wasn't going to think about murder today. She'd hike, work in the workshop, and play with Wobbles and Nimrod.
The desert air was fresh and clean at this altitude, and she breathed it in with familiar appreciation. This was her favorite spot, up with the birds at the top of the world. No one else seemed as enthralled with the mountain as Gretchen. A few serious hikers came up this far, but it was a difficult, steep climb. Most people stopped at the enormous boulder just before the most grueling part of the trail began. She saw a few ant-sized people close to the trailhead, but it was still too early for the tourists to be out. Gretchen started down.
Matt Albright was waiting for her at the boulder. He wore cargo shorts, running shoes, a Don't Worry Be Hopi T-shirt, and he was leaning against the rocks watching her descend.
"Don't run away," he said immediately, pushing off from the face of the boulder. "Talk to me."
"I'm not going to run away."
Far from it!
"I thought you and I were making progress, then something happened." He took her hand, and she felt tingles up her arm, through her body. "We need to talk about it."
"There's nothing to talk about," Gretchen squeaked. "I was going through some old relationship burnout. I'm better now."
"Nina told me."
"Told you what?"
"That you thought Meg was my date when you saw us together at the rodeo."
Gretchen didn't respond. Good old interfering Nina with her big, blabby mouth. Kindhearted, but way too involved in Gretchen's life.
"Did Detective Kline tell you about the clown?" she asked.
"You're dodging."
Of course I am.
"Well, did he?"
"We've contacted all the local costume shops. None have a clown suit like the one you described."
Gretchen opened her mouth to ask another question, anything to get him off this uncomfortable topic. He cut in.
"Can we start over?" Matt asked. The sun rising as a backdrop lit up the rocks. He squeezed her hand.
"Your pending divorce seems to be going on forever,"
Gretchen said. Finally, it was out in the open. "And your wife is stalking me. This isn't the best time to start something new."
"Ignore Kayla."
"That's not so easy. But that isn't the main problem. It's that you're still married, still going through the process. And I have a lot of baggage from my last relationship,"
Gretchen said, intent on talking him out of wanting her. "I need to resolve some issues. Otherwise I'll bring them right along with me."
"Don't you think I have a few of my own?" He laughed lightly. His teeth gleamed. His face was handsome and tan. He had a firm, tight body, and he was fun to be with.
What are you waiting for?
"Let's work together," he said.
"We can't start out with so many problems."
Whine, whine, whine.
Part of her wanted to go for it. The other part skidded to a stop.
"I tell you what," Matt said. "In two days I hope to remove one of the obstacles; it's my final divorce hearing. Truthfully? I've had this 'final' hearing several times before with one postponement after another. So I can't make any promises. To show you how much I respect your integrity, if it's postponed, I won't bother you again."
Yikes. Was he slipping away already?
"But. ." He slipped a finger under her chin and waited until she looked at him, until their eyes met, "if the divorce is final, you give me a chance. Deal?"
He kissed her gently.
"Deal," she whispered.
Then he left her standing alone halfway up the mountain. The rest of the morning passed in a cloud. Gretchen peered into her completed projects basket and was surprised to find it full. She was operating on automatic drive while her mind replayed the kiss and promise.
She sighed, fully aware that she was behaving like a teenager. It was wonderful to be in love. Or was it lust?
Whatever. It felt great. She wished Matt were here. Then she remembered his doll phobia.
One more reason why this would be a difficult relationship to maintain. Heavy sigh. Gretchen set down the antique German doll she was holding.
Nimrod raced past on his way to the doggie door. The tiny door had been a good investment. It allowed him to decide on his own when he needed to go out. Wobbles uncurled from a position on the edge of the worktable and stretched. A few pats from her, a little purring, and he plopped back down. What a life.
She found Caroline and Daisy on the patio, having iced tea and sandwiches.
"I spent the night, and you didn't even notice," the homeless woman said. She was scrubbed clean, and her purple dress had been washed. Nimrod was on her lap.
"Sit and have lunch," her mother offered.
"You should come more often." Gretchen joined them, pleased that Daisy felt comfortable enough to pop in.
"I hear Ryan's doing well," Daisy said.
"He's so lucky," Caroline said.
Gretchen poured a glass of tea. "Daisy, the other night at the rodeo, a clown told me where to find you."
Daisy nodded. "That was Andy. He works for the rodeo every year."
"Does he own the clown suit?"
"No," she said. "They supply it."
"Ever see a clown with green hair and a bald spot on the crown?"
"I thought you were going to let the police handle Charlie's murder from now on," her mother complained. "Let it go."
Daisy rolled her eyes skyward, thinking. "Can't say that I have. Why?"
"It's not important," Gretchen said, catching the fed-up look on her mother's face. She changed the subject. "Is Nacho back from San Francisco yet?"
"He's home. He didn't like California." Daisy held up her glass of iced tea. "Here's to love," she said, staring knowingly at Gretchen. They toasted.
How did Daisy know? Was it that obvious? Daisy, now that Gretchen thought about it, had her own glow since Nacho was home. The moment was idyllic-perfect weather, basking in the sun with two terrific women, the possibility of a serious relationship with Matt.
Gretchen's cell phone rang when she went to the kitchen for more coffee. "I think I made a terrible mistake!" Nina shouted on the other end.
"What's up?" Gretchen asked.
"I botched a reading."
Tarot cards again. "Did Brandon Kline ask you out yet?" Nina
had
to get a life.
"Don't patronize me. You have to listen. Are you listening?"
"You're shouting. I don't have a choice."
"Here it is then. Remember the reading I did for Britt?
Well, I read the cards wrong."
"How do you know?"
"Because I'm down at Aurora's New Age Shop, and Aurora knows these things. Let me talk. Remember she drew the king of pentacles? And the hanged man fell on the floor? The card with the man hanging from a tree upside down? I thought the hanged man was for April because it fell at her feet, but it was really for Britt."
Gretchen entered the workshop and gazed out the window at Camelback. Nina really needed male companionship. Someone to take her mind off of auras and palm readings.
"But the hanged man means the reversal of the other cards' meanings. Instead of a person of character and a loyal friend, the opposite is true. Britt is corrupt; she'll use any means to achieve her end. She's ruthless, unfaithful, and extremely dangerous."
"That's what the cards say?"
"Right. She was capable of killing Charlie."
What would her aunt come up with next?
"Nina, what kind of concrete evidence is that? The police can't arrest her because the hanged man says so."
"But we can try to prove she did it."
"Call Detective Kline and get him onto her."
"You constantly make fun of me, don't think I don't know it. You have to believe me this time. We can prove it. Then you'll have to give me credit. I'm so tired of being mocked."
Nina hung up without saying goodbye.
Gretchen went back to work in the doll shop.
36
"Where's Nina?" April asked the next morning. Gretchen was bent over a restringing project in her shop. April had stormed in without knocking.
Gretchen looked up. "She's mad at me."
"She isn't home."
"She's probably shopping."
"Tutu's there."
"Sometimes she leaves the princess home. Rare, but not unheard of."
"I think she's been gone awhile. Tutu has doo-dooed and wee-weed all over the house."
Gretchen put the doll's arm down. "How long do you think she's been gone?"
"Judging by the canine evidence? Since at least last night."
Gretchen felt faint. Something terrible might have happened to her aunt. "We have to call the hospitals."
"I'm way ahead of you. Scottsdale Memorial has a Jane Doe admit. I'm headed over to take a look. Want to come along?"
Gretchen shook her head. "No, we'll be more effective if we split up. I'll try some of her favorite haunts. I'm sure there's a good reason. Maybe she connected with Brandon last night."
"She would never neglect Tutu."
April was right. "Don't tell my mother," Gretchen warned her. "Not yet. It will only upset her. But last night Nina called, babbling on about Britt Gleeland's tarot reading and reverse meanings, and that she'd decided Britt might be the murderer."
"What nonsense! I ought to throw those cards away."
April rushed out. Gretchen left her project where it was and grabbed her purse. Nimrod looked at her expectantly.
"You're staying home today, bud."
What could have happened to Nina? Where was she?
Think. Last night she hung up on Gretchen. Was she so angry she had an accident? Maybe. More probable? She had rushed off to prove herself. She certainly had total confidence in the cards. Okay. Work it out. If the clown was the killer, and she was convinced it was, she could eliminate several people. Joseph, Bernard, and Evie couldn't have been disguised as the clown, because she had seen those three within minutes of bumping into the clown. Joseph passed with the crowd, and Bernard and Evie were at the doll shop. None of them would have had time to change.
That left Ryan, Britt, and Melany. The poison mixer could be anybody, but since she was making wild assumptions, she would assume that the killer was one of the remaining three people. Could Nina be right? Britt wasn't the most likable women Gretchen had ever met. She had dinner with Charlie the night before she died. And she had been in the shop the night after Charlie's death. Cleaning up, Britt had said. Getting some of her things out of the shop.
Gretchen reached for the phone and called the Scottsdale police department. She asked for Detective Kline. Fortunately, he was in and came on the line. No, he hadn't seen Nina, but he had tried to reach her at her home the evening before. He was sure she was all right, but he'd keep an eye out for her car.
"Tell me," Gretchen said. "Did anyone have permission to remove items from Mini Maize on the Saturday that Charlie died?"
"Of course not."
"So no one should have been inside."
"Absolutely no one."
"I thought Matt Albright told me you were finished with the shop on Saturday."
"We were. But we didn't release it until you arrived the next morning."
What possible motive could Britt have that would drive her to murder? Charlie had been her best friend, or so she claimed. Britt didn't seem interested in taking over the shop like Bernard. She hadn't been stealing from Charlie as the old dollhouse maker had.
Yet, she had been a doll maker, too. She might have been in competition with Sara, her best friend's sister. Britt had made pretty weird comments about friendships. Gretchen remembered her own challenges with Nina and April, the tiff they'd had because Nina felt Gretchen was spending too much time with April.
It had almost ruined their relationships.
Gretchen jumped into her car and roared away with no clear destination in mind. Almost subconsciously, she turned in the direction of Britt's house.
Nothing fit into a snug package. Gretchen tried to put herself in the killer's mind.
Pretend you just killed Charlie Maize. What would you do next?
She'd hope the police would buy into the heart attack. Charlie had had a bad heart, and if they didn't detect the nicotine, she would be home free.
Hadn't Matt told Gretchen the autopsy almost missed the traces of nicotine overdose? Nicotine traveled through the body quickly, so the evidence might have been easily overlooked. But it hadn't been.
After that, Gretchen had shared a secret with Nina, and her aunt passed it on to her new friend Britt. Charlie had been murdered.
The police would now look for the most likely suspect. The killer would have to throw suspicion somewhere else. Why not blame the burned-out drug addict son who had caused his mother so much grief?