Gretchen Birch Boxed Set (Books 1-4)

by Deb Baker

  “Yes, he could only communicate in Spanish, no English at all. He says he did it.”

  “Did he say why he killed her?”

  “Apparently they knew each other from the Rescue Mission. He says he was drunk, she had a bottle of whisky and wouldn’t share. A physical fight ensued, and he pushed her.”

  Gretchen’s eyes narrowed, and her brows furrowed. Killed for a bottle of whisky? Something felt wrong about that. The homeless lost their lives occasionally, and sometimes they did lose it over a bottle of booze.

  But Camelback Mountain was miles from the area the city’s destitute frequented. Why chase her all the way up a mountain and then push her off?

  A disturbing thought struck her, and she knew the answer before she asked the question. She sensed what Nina would have called her special inherited talent, a certain unspecified intuition. Goose bumps dotted her arms as she braced herself to cross paths once again with a duplicitous transient.

  “What does this Theodore Brummer look like?” she asked, suspiciously.

  “Scruffy, smelly. Usually the homeless are nondescript and tend to blend in, but this guy has a large lump on his head that distinguishes him from the rest, some kind of growth.”

  Gretchen stared at him.

  She was right.

  Nacho.

  “What about the witnesses?” she managed to ask. “The ones who saw my mother on the mountain when Martha died?”

  “If you’re asking if their sighting is credible, it is. She’s still wanted as an accomplice based on their accounting. She was on the mountain, and she’s guilty of something. Maybe not murder, but certainly she withheld information and obstructed the pursuit of justice. I’m not buying his motive. He didn’t kill Martha Williams over alcohol. And there’s still the possibility that your mother conspired with Brummer.”

  Gretchen pushed her plate away, having suddenly lost her appetite.

  __________

  “I suspected him all along,” Nina said. “Doesn’t surprise me at all.”

  They drove toward Scottsdale Memorial Hospital through typically heavy traffic on their way to visit Daisy. Nina’s menagerie - Tutu, Nimrod, and the volatile Enrico – rode in the backseat, and Gretchen again felt gratitude for her cat and his independent character. His only requirements were a constant source of food and water and a warm body to cuddle with at night. Dogs, on the other hand…. She let the thought go, resigned to the present situation and present, doggy-breath company.

  The back windows were crusted with accumulated drool.

  “Nacho didn’t implicate her,” Gretchen said, repeating the rest of the information supplied by the detective. “In fact he insisted that my mother had nothing to do with it. He was adamant, maintaining that he acted alone.”

  “That’s good news.”

  “The police still have a warrant out for her arrest based on the description from the hikers.”

  “That’s not good news.”

  Something still didn’t feel right about Nacho’s confession, but Gretchen was confident that her questions would be answered eventually. How, for example, could Nacho have been responsible for Daisy’s car accident? He didn’t even own a vehicle, so how could he have forced her off the road? And his concern for Daisy had seemed genuine. Why would he try to harm her?

  However, his sneaky manner and covert actions made his guilty plea plausible. And he admitted to the murder. Case closed. Or almost. Maybe the reason for Daisy’s crash was simpler than it appeared. Daisy, inattentive or inexperienced, could have lost control and driven off the road. It was possible that, as the detective had conjectured, no one had tail-ended her.

  “I don’t understand his penchant for speaking Spanish,” Gretchen said. “He refused to speak English, and as far as I know, he isn’t even Spanish. At least he doesn’t look Spanish. And we know he’s fluent in English. What’s the significance of the Spanish?”

  “You think too much,” Nina said. “Accept his confession at face value.”

  “And ignore the fact that he didn’t break in and steal Martha’s bag?”

  “How do you know he didn’t?”

  “Because he’s the one who gave the bag to us.”

  When Nina swung into the hospital parking lot, all three dogs tumbled to the right side of the car. “Seat belts for you guys unless you learn to brace better for turns,” she warned.

  “How are we going to fit Daisy into the car,” Gretchen said in exasperation. “There isn’t room.”

  Nina slid the gears into the park position and turned off the engine. “It was your idea to take Daisy home with you,” she said. “I don’t approve of letting a vagrant take over Caroline’s home, but it’s your decision. Now, when you’re robbed blind, I’ll know exactly who did it.”

  “You’re stereotyping,” Gretchen said. “I thought you were more open-minded than that.”

  Nina grinned. “In answer to your question. We have plenty of room for Daisy because you can ride in the back with the pooches.”

  Gretchen got out of the car and slammed the door.

  __________

  Caroline didn’t flinch at the exorbitant amount of money she had paid for the doll. Thanks to the increasing popularity of plastic and the credit card service’s unethical tactics that trapped the impulsive consumer into a lifetime of interest-paying servitude, she had been allowed to spend more than she should have. Usually outspoken about the evils of excessive credit debt, Caroline, in one single transaction, had joined the multitudes of over-extended debtors.

  She smiled with satisfaction.

  Until now she had careful avoided leaving a paper trail. In fact, she still practiced extreme caution. Watchful eyes would find no easy path to her temporary door. She had used only cash until the final moment when she had no other choice. The evasive maneuvers, however, would end soon enough.

  The terms of a private auction were strictly adhered to, Caroline knew from her own experience with online selling. Bidder’s email addresses were not disclosed, a distinct advantage for Caroline that effectively concealed her identity from the seller. Of course, this seller, she knew, also requiring anonymity, had used another identity and an escrow service to manage the transaction.

  Full contact information could be requested only after winning the auction, and only the seller and the highest bidder were notified via email when the auction was over.

  Caroline keyed in her request for the seller’s identification and settled in to wait for the response. The information she was about to receive would be well worth the thousands she had spent moments earlier.

  She thought of Nacho, her thespian friend back in Phoenix, with a mixture of fondness and reserve. Her accomplice. One of life’s enigmas, the erudite outcast, fluent speaker of multiple languages. All the knowledge in his head couldn’t save him from his struggles with the bottle. Lucid for long periods of time until the next inevitable alcoholic binge and the rapid descent from lucid to lurid.

  Caroline hoped he could maintain his focus long enough to continue to be of use to her. He was the only one she could trust. Their mutual cause bound them together like two foot soldiers huddled in a foxhole.

  She rubbed her tired, dry eyes and opened them again at the same instant that the screen updated.

  The Receiving mail message flashed across the bottom of her computer screen.

  Chapter 24

  Daisy settled into the spare bedroom with her meager supply of toiletries, furnished by the hospital, and with the clothes on her back, several layers of mix-and-match items that were all mix, no match. Didn’t the woman appreciate the extent of the high summer temperatures? Couldn’t she feel the sweltering, relentless heat rising to a boil under all those layers? Gretchen felt hot just looking at her and adjusted the air-conditioning upward.

  “I’ll say this again,” Daisy said, the top of her head bandaged and the surrounding hair shaved to stubble. “I’d rather stay with Nacho. All the Hollywood scouts hang out in downtown Phoenix. W
hat are my chances of being discovered way out here behind this ugly clump of dirt you call a mountain?”

  Nina sighed heavily. “How many times do I have to say it? Nacho’s house swept away in the last flood. I saw it with my own eyes. It’s gone.”

  Along with my phone, Gretchen thought. Somehow there hadn’t been time to visit her phone service and purchase a new one. She felt naked without it and experienced a moment of pampered privilege for her thought. Daisy had absolutely nothing in the world, while she clung to all the modern convenient trappings, every one of them.

  Nacho wouldn’t need his cardboard home any time soon, but she hadn’t told Daisy about his incarceration yet.

  “And my clothes,” Daisy continued to complain. “I can’t function without my shopping cart.”

  “We’ll find the cart later today. Your clothes and the rest of your things are in Nina’s trunk,” Gretchen assured her, watching Nina make a face at the thought of Daisy’s foul-smelling odds and ends arriving inside her sister’s home. “Or we can buy you a new outfit or two,” she said, hoping to appease Nina’s sensibilities. “Would you like that?”

  “I’ll pay,” Nina offered enthusiastically.

  The tiny trio of dogs sniffed at Daisy’s ankles. Enrico hadn’t barked or growled at Daisy, not once, which Gretchen took as a good sign. Anyone who connected with animals had to have redeeming qualities. Even Wobbles, usually reserved around strangers, stalked back and forth before Daisy, rubbing up against her legs and purring.

  Gretchen remembered her first encounter with Daisy on the streets of Phoenix and Daisy’s fascination with Nimrod as he rode contentedly in his embroidered poodle purse on her shoulder. The homeless woman obviously loved animals.

  Daisy lifted Enrico into her arms and Gretchen watched in stunned surprise as the normally whirling tornado licked the top of Daisy’s hand in beastly gratitude for her attention.

  “Well, doesn’t that beat all,” Nina said. “He likes you.”

  “I have a certain way with doggies,” Daisy said, looking down at Woobles. “And kitties. When are we going to bring in my stuff from the car?”

  “Not right now,” Nina said with annoyance. “Let’s get you a few new things first. Then we can decide what to do with the rest.”

  “Great,” Daisy said, stuffing Enrico in Nimrod’s purse. She slung him over her shoulder, and Enrico peeked out, perplexed by the change in mobile homes. “Grab the other two and let’s go. What are you waiting for? Where are we going for my new outfits?”

  Nina, a pained expression on her face, packed up the pooches without responding. She silently consigning Nimrod to the Chihuahua’s purse and gave Gretchen a withering glare after Gretchen announced that she would remain at home.

  “I have a few calls to make,” she said. “You go ahead and have fun. Happy shopping.”

  “You can’t do this to me,” Nina whispered out the corner of her mouth.

  “It will do you good to make a new friend. Look how she gets along with Enrico. Daisy’s a natural.” She hustled them out the door, Nina blustering and Daisy discussing the requirements for her new wardrobe.

  “Red and purple,” Gretchen heard her say as she left. “Like those Red Hat ladies. I like those colors.”

  The phone rang as Gretchen finished straightening up the kitchen.

  “Somebody’s been in my house,” Bonnie screeched. “Since we were talking about my key only yesterday, I’ve been more watchful than usual. And I know somebody’s been in here.”

  “What was taken?”

  “Nothing that I can see. But I’m meticulous. I can tell if one little thing in my house has been moved. And a dresser drawer in Matty’s old room is open just a smidge. I didn’t leave it that way.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure, because after I saw the open drawer, I started paying more attention to details. Things have been moved around. Whoever stole the key from your house came here.” Bonnie sniffed. “It’s a horrible thing to know a stranger violated the sanctity of my home without permission. It gives me the creeps.”

  “Are you positive that they got in with the key?” Gretchen dropped the dishtowel onto the table.

  “Nothing is forced open or broken, and I always lock up because you can never be too careful these days. Criminals prey on women living alone. There are only two keys – one on my key chain and the one you had. I never replaced the spare behind the Hummel.”

  Gretchen didn’t think it necessary to mention the copies she had made for Nina and herself. “I don’t know,” she said, doubtfully. “A slightly open dresser drawer seems like flimsy evidence.”

  “That’s exactly why I didn’t call Matty,” Bonnie whined. “He would say the same thing. I have a locksmith on the way over, so the lock will be changed. That’ll solve the problem quick enough. I just thought you’d like to know what happened.”

  “I appreciate the call. I really do. Are you okay?”

  “I’ll live.” Bonnie sniffed again.

  Gretchen thought about Martha and the disappearing key. Martha had taken the key, but never delivered the package. Or had she? Had she hidden a doll inside Bonnie’s house without her knowledge? Did she enter Caroline’s house as well, with practiced stealth? Maybe Martha had hidden the doll that the police confiscated. And who else could have had enough information to search Bonnie’s house? And what would be the point of hiding dolls in other doll collectors’ homes?

  Questions raced through Gretchen’s mind with no easy answers following behind.

  “When did this happen?” she asked.

  “I was out this morning for a few hours,” Bonnie said. “In fact, I’m in and out of the house every day with my part-time job at Saks and all my errands.”

  Gretchen experienced a rising sense of alarm. Nacho couldn’t possibly be responsible for a break-in that morning, since he had turned himself in to the police sometime during the night.

  “But I haven’t been in that room for two or three days,” Bonnie continued, effectively placing Nacho back as primary suspect in the lineup. “I’ve got to go. The locksmith is here.”

  Gretchen hung up and remembered a certain uneasiness right after she arrived in Phoenix, when she’d noticed the open patio door, unlocked when she was sure she had locked it.

  Her mother’s pink bracelet on her wrist caught Gretchen’s eye, and renewed anger at her mother’s silence washed over her. Why hadn’t she returned by now? In Gretchen’s opinion it was time to resurface and refute the charges against her. Exactly one week since Martha died, and now with Nacho arrested for the murder and a full confession, where was her mother?

  Only one explanation occurred to Gretchen. The Bru French fashion doll and its incredible value must have tempted her mother into her current situation. It didn’t really matter whether Martha or Caroline had placed the parian doll in the workshop. The French fashion doll, dressed in a green silk costume and a straw hat, and the doll trunk filled with original costumes and accessories, played a critical role in the murder. That doll was the beginning. Or the end for Martha.

  Gretchen had lost her direction. Her plan to find the French fashion doll had been forgotten in the anxious moments of the noose-necked Shirley Temple and the deceitful actions of members of the Phoenix Dollers. Joseph hiding his family ties, Bonnie’s covert visit to the homeless shelter, and April’s suspicious illness. All had distracted Gretchen. Then Daisy’s accident in her mother’s own car and Nacho’s surprising confession.

  All had diverted Gretchen from her path to the French fashion doll, and she realized with a sinking sense of helplessness that she had no idea how to go about finding it. Perhaps her mother had the doll with her, and it would never reappear. Maybe they were both gone forever.

  What did her mother know that had caused her to flee? Could a doll gain such importance for her that she would abandon her comfortable life in Phoenix for the uncertainty of a life in hiding, cut off forever from her friends and career and family?
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  Why did Gretchen have this awful premonition that her mother wasn’t coming back?

  Close to tears, she heard the phone ringing again, slicing sharply through her tumultuous thoughts. She decided she wouldn’t accept her mother as an accomplice to murder or as a common thief.

  Longing to hear her mother on the other end of the line, she hid her disappointment at the sound of Larry’s voice. “You must be keeping on top of my mother’s work,” she said. “No one has been around here threatening lawsuits for unfulfilled promises.”

  “Anything to help. I thought I’d invite you out to lunch,” he said. “You must be ready for some company after spending the last few days with your aunt.”

  The morning’s pecan waffles were a distant memory, but the knowledge that she had eaten an entire day’s worth of calories in one sitting lingered. She really didn’t want to be home when Nina and Daisy returned, craving time away from the large entourage that accompanied Nina everywhere.

  Besides, she might enlist Larry in her search.

  Gretchen laughed. “Only if you promise not to bring any dogs along.”

  “Deal,” he said.

  __________

  The menu at Garcia’s Mexican Restaurant, which was situated at the base of Camelback Mountain on a busy stretch of Camelback Road, featured some of Gretchen’s favorite foods, and she found it difficult to decide what to order. The menu read like a good book--cheese quesadillas, one of the best guacamole dips in the valley, chicken tortilla soup--the endless list tempted and teased. A perfect pick-me-up after her close call with the onset of major depression. Dieting could wait.

  She ordered shrimp tacos and a non-alcoholic Margarita and Larry followed suit.

  Gretchen briefly wondered how Nina and Daisy were getting along. She hoped Nina wouldn’t be too distressed when she read the note Gretchen carefully remembered to leave for her explaining lunch with Larry.