Gretchen was mesmerized by the freak of nature she was witnessing. Actually, everything about Phoenix seemed otherworldly. First the intense heat that scorched the land creating a crisp, brown, leafless environment hostile to most life-forms. Then the sky opened up and torrential rains flooded the entire city, virtually drowning the parched land.

She remembered the call that she had ignored while pursuing Nacho under the freeway bridge, and she reached for her phone. The clip was empty.

“Pull over,” Gretchen said. “My phone’s missing.”

“I’m sure it’s in here someplace,” Nina said. “Wait until we get home, and you can look around without getting soaked.” Nina slid a glance at Gretchen. “Too late for that, I guess.”

“I don’t think it’s in the car. I might have lost it while pushing Daisy’s cart up to the car. We have to go back.”

“Sorry, dear. Anything left behind is gone by now, and I wouldn’t risk going all the way back anyway.”

Gretchen searched the seat and floor around her then crawled in the backseat and rummaged around under the bag Nacho had said belonged to Martha.

No cell phone.

As soon as they stopped in her mother’s driveway under the carport, she dug through the trunk.

No cell phone.

How, she wondered, could she live for even one day without her phone?

Caroline stared at the bleak motel walls. Close enough to O’Hare for a fast flight out, far enough away to escape the steep prices associated with instant airport accessibility.

Twenty-six calls from her daughter in the past few days, mostly from Gretchen’s cell phone, a few made from Caroline’s house. At least the same number of calls from Nina, received and also ignored. Now, when she needed so desperately to warn her daughter away from Phoenix, she couldn’t locate her.

All her calls to Gretchen had gone unanswered.

She sat alone in a musty room with a foul odor clinging to it, the smell of too many years of cigarette smoke and too many untrained pets. The first thing she did on entering the room was to yank the bedspread off the bed and toss it into a corner.

Planes continuously roared overhead, drowning out the television, turned on but unwatched.

Caroline considered leaving a message on Gretchen’s voice mail, but what would she say? Explain too much or too little, and she couldn’t predict the extent of the damage to herself or to Gretchen.

She had failed. She could tell Gretchen that. Her laptop hummed on the scarred dresser top, but it hummed off-key, the music Caroline had hoped to hear never played.

Wireless Internet, even in this dilapidated sorry excuse for a motel.

She tried calling her house. No answer.

With any luck, Gretchen was back in Boston and wouldn’t need a warning.

Nacho should have called by now. Hah, he should have called a long time ago. He was her only link to the events taking place in Phoenix, and he was as unreliable as always. Self-medicating inside a wine bottle to numb the pain or to calm his nerves, or to render inactive the voices only he could hear. Who knew what really went on inside that misshapen head?

Reluctantly, she speed-dialed Gretchen’s cell phone number again, left a terse, uninformative message, and hung up, feeling regret for avoiding her daughter these past few days.

Why didn’t Gretchen answer?

Tutu and Nimrod greeted them with enthusiasm. Gretchen was enormously relieved to find they had behaved themselves without leaving the whirlwind mess in Caroline’s house she’d feared. One natural disaster for the day was enough.

Wobbles, a fairly large tomcat, stalked between the two dogs, towering over Nimrod and standing almost eye to eye with Tutu. A formidable trio, but Wobbles was clearly the ruler.

Ever since Tutu had suffered a scratched nose, she watched Wobbles with a healthy respect.

The respect wasn’t reciprocated.

Wobbles feigned indifference, but Gretchen suspected that he knew exactly where the dogs were at all times. He even tolerated Nimrod’s puppy playfulness. As for Tutu, he didn’t allow her much leeway after cutting her down to size with one swift swoop of his armed paw.

“Six o’clock, and it’s dark outside already,” Nina said. “Monsoon season is the only time of year that we have such short days. If the sun never set at all, I’d be perfectly happy.”

Nina ordered a delivery of Chinese from a nearby restaurant, and they changed into dry clothes, Nina selecting a loose sundress from Caroline’s closet.

“Watch what I’m teaching Nimrod,” Nina said to Gretchen, crouching and holding open his personalized purse. Nimrod ran right in, turned around, and peeked out joyfully. Holding the handbag, Nina stood and adjusted it on her shoulder.

Gretchen said, “Rumor has it you tried to sneak Tutu into the hospital in a purse.”

“I would have pulled it off if I had a larger purse. I used to carry Tutu around all the time, but she weighs about twelve pounds, and my back isn’t as strong as it used to be. Nimrod, when he’s grown, will be only four or five pounds, the perfect weight for a purse. Now watch this.”

Nina strolled across the bedroom with Nimrod and purse, past the dresser filled with Shirley Temple dolls. She pivoted at the closet, started back, and stopped before she reached Gretchen. “Nimrod, hide,” she whispered, turning her head toward Nimrod.

He instantly ducked inside the purse.

Nina grinned with pleasure. “Okay, good boy.” Nimrod peeked out again.

Gretchen laughed out loud, a deep, throaty, full-bodied laugh. The first one since she arrived in Phoenix. Once she started, she couldn’t stop. She laughed until tears streamed down her face.

“It’s so easy to train a puppy,” Nina said wistfully. “I wish I had taught Tutu that trick before she grew up. The old adage is true. Teaching old dogs new tricks isn’t easy.”

“Let me guess,” Gretchen said, wiping her eyes. “You’re teaching Nimrod to hide so you can take him into stores where he wouldn’t be welcome.”

“Exactly. And he loves it. He burrows down and takes a catnap. Or rather a puppy nap.”

Nina hung Nimrod and purse on the doorknob and sat down on the side of the bed. “Nimrod’s family has had an unexpected delay, and they won’t be home today. Nimrod needs a place to stay for a few days, a temporary home.”

Gretchen stopped laughing. “He seems perfectly happy staying with you.”

“We’ve had a great time.”

“But?”

“But I have another client coming,” Nina said. “I love Nimrod. He took to a purse with the same instinct he takes to water. But I can’t possibly train another puppy with so many other dogs around. The distraction would be counterproductive.”

“Can’t you reschedule your next client?” Gretchen felt a case of can’t-say-no-itis coming on.

“That wouldn’t be very professional.”

Gretchen glanced at Nimrod. His ears quivered. “Okay, but only for a few days.” She lifted his purse from the doorknob and slung him over her shoulder. “Let’s see what’s inside the bag Nacho gave me. Maybe it holds all the answers to Martha’s death.”