His smile was disarmingly charming, but Gretchen felt sure that he was acting. She had an overwhelming urge to protect her mother. The role reversal seemed awkward and unnatural. Her mother had always been her shield against potential danger.

“Look,” he continued, sliding his badge into his wallet. “I’m investigating a death, and your mother’s name came up. This is all very routine. If she didn’t do anything wrong, you have nothing to hide.”

Gretchen hated logic, especially from a cop. “Who said I have anything to hide?”

“You did.”

“I did not.” See how a cop will twist your words until you don’t recognize them anymore, Gretchen thought, glancing past his shoulder and watching a neighbor walk her dog past the house. Six A.M. Didn’t these people sleep in on Saturdays? She lowered her eyes and met his gaze. Neither one of them flinched or looked away.

“If you know where she is, you should tell me,” he said. “I’m trying to help. She’s one of my mother’s friends.”

Gretchen carefully considered the possible reasons why he would be searching for her mother. She thought she detected a hard, determined glint behind the detective’s sunshine eyes. After the note found with Martha’s body, the police would want an explanation, and Gretchen wasn’t sure her mother had one.

“Come back when you have a warrant,” she finally said and closed the door. A few minutes later she heard his car drive off.

Wobbles was talkative, meowing and rubbing against her leg. Gretchen poured cat food and water into two bowls she found in the cupboard, made a piece of toast, and started a pot of coffee. She ate the toast while she waited for the coffee to perk, then poured a steaming cup and called Nina.

“What time is it?” Nina’s husky voice sounded thick with sleep. Payback time, Gretchen thought.

“After six. I need to borrow your car today.” Gretchen sipped the fragrant coffee and felt it coursing through her body, rejuvenating her spirit in spite of her early morning visitor. “I’d like to do a little shopping. I brought only a small amount of cat food with me, and there isn’t much people food in the house either.”

“Six in the morning?”

“You can go back to sleep in a minute, but I need your car later.”

“We’re having our hair done at eleven,” Nina said, yawning. “You can drop us at the salon. That will give you a few hours.”

“We?”

“Tutu and I.”

Gretchen choked back a chortle, but a small titter slipped out. Nina could make her laugh even in the most trying situations.

“Go ahead,” Nina said. “Laugh all you want.”

The light moment passed, and Gretchen related the conversation she had with Matt Albright. When she paused, Nina asked, “Did you tell him about the doll shawl and photograph you found on the mountain?”

“I didn’t even think of it. I was more concerned about why he was here.”

“That’s good,” Nina said. “He doesn’t need to know right now.”

“Is the shawl still in your car?”

“Still wrapped up and stowed away,” Nina said. “I’ve been thinking this through. According to April, the French fashion doll is worth a lot of money on its own, but it’s worth twice as much with the trunk. If we can find them, we might have our answer to Caroline’s whereabouts. I’m still convinced that Martha didn’t jump willingly, and Detective Albright snooping around means that the police aren’t so sure either. I’ll give Bonnie a call and find out if she knows anything more.”

Gretchen poured another cup of coffee. “Remind April to keep the news of the trunk to herself, at least for a few days.”

“April keeps everything close to her chest.”

There was a discernible pause. Nina broke the silence. “This doesn’t look good for your mother. You know that, don’t you? What if she has the doll? What if she’s involved in something dangerous?”

Or deadly. Gretchen couldn’t express the thought aloud. Her emotional strength came from believing that Caroline would reappear and explain her absence. That Martha had committed suicide. That there was a logical explanation in spite of Gretchen’s growing sense of distress.

After finalizing plans to borrow Nina’s car, Gretchen changed into shorts and a tank top and pulled on her hiking boots for a brisk walk up Camelback. She again checked for messages on her answering machine in Boston and on her cell phone. Other than a few greetings from friends, she found nothing from Steve or her mother.

Sliding open the glass patio door leading to the pool, Gretchen was surprised to find the door unlocked. She must have forgotten to lock it yesterday before she left with Nina. She scolded herself for her carelessness.

The morning temperature was tolerable, and Gretchen wondered if she was already acclimating to the harsh desert summer. She loped easily up to the trailhead and slowed to a steady jog, appreciating the sanctuary around her.

Gretchen had learned long ago that the natural world could bring her needed serenity when her thoughts were troubled, and hiking trails had provided the perfect solution. In the area around Boston she had discovered the Blue Hills and Skyline Trail, then Middlesex Fells. After that, she delighted in every quest to find interesting and unique paths to explore.

Even in the center of a densely populated city like Phoenix, she could find refuge.

Summit Trail reminded her of Martha’s fall, so she stayed on more accessible paths, jogging along Bobby’s Rock Trail. Mesquite and staghorn lined the path. She heard the chatter of birds, and catching movement from the corner of her eye, she spotted a roadrunner on an old, overgrown trail.

As she ran she felt all her worries and anxiety falling away on the path behind her. After the refreshing and mind-clearing exercise she would be ready to face the uncertainty of a new day.

When she returned to the house, Larry Gerney was waiting in his red convertible in the shade of a blue palo verde tree. He unfolded his long legs from the tiny car and greeted her with a paper bag in his hand. “Thought I’d bring breakfast,” he said, following her into the kitchen. He didn’t remove his sunglasses, which saved her the effort of pretending that she didn’t notice his tic. “Have you heard anything yet?”

Gretchen shook her head and poured a cup of coffee for each of them. Larry sliced bagels and heaped them with cream cheese, smoked salmon, and alfalfa sprouts. Wobbles, smelling the salmon, joined them and was rewarded with a slice of his own.

“I never saw a cat with three legs before,” Larry said. “But he seems to get around fine.”

“He’s amazing,” Gretchen agreed. She nibbled at the bagel. It tasted wonderful.

“I think we should check your mother’s business line and listen to her messages.” Larry wrapped the leftovers and stored them in the refrigerator.

Of course, he would want to check her messages. Was his request a sincere offer of help or a devious way to gain a client list? She studied his features, hoping for a clue to his motives. Reluctantly, she nodded and led the way.

Gretchen experienced a sense of loss when she entered her mother’s workshop, the same sense of emptiness she had felt the day before. It is so easy to forget how much you love someone, she thought, until you realize that you might lose them.

Gretchen and Larry listened to twelve messages, each caller inquiring about the progress on various doll repairs. Several expressed concern about their dolls being ready at a specific time, and all wanted return phone calls. None gave Gretchen the impression they knew that Caroline was unavailable.

“This is hopeless,” Gretchen said. “What am I going to do?”

Gretchen hadn’t worked on a doll since college, when she’d spent summers in her mother’s workshop performing the simpler repairs. She could disassemble, clean, and re-string an antique doll, but her mother was the expert when it came to restoring eyes, refurbishing wigs, and sealing cracks. Not only did Gretchen lack the expertise to satisfy these customers, she didn’t have the time.