4

Gretchen leaned against the exterior wall of the restaurant for support. She heard the rush of diners’ voices as the door swung open, and Nina appeared at her side.

“No rest for the wicked,” Nina said lightly, breezing by. “Onward and upward.” She marched toward the Impala. Her steps slowed when she realized Gretchen wasn’t behind her. She swung around. “What? What is it?”

“A man,” Gretchen stammered. “A man just threatened me.”

“Where is he?” Nina said, rushing back.

“Gone.” Gretchen gestured down the sidewalk. “He told me to get out while I still can. Then he ran away down the street.”

“What did he look like?” Nina asked. “Did you recognize him?”

Gretchen shook her head. “He was unkempt, dirty, a street person, I think. Shabby clothes. Hairy cheeks. He had a growth of some sort on the side of his head above his ear.” She cupped her hand over her ear to show Nina what she meant. “Like a knob.”

She didn’t say that he looked like he had lost himself inside his head, that he had the tormented eyes of the mentally ill. The homeless. The renegades of society, unequipped for the demands of everyday life. She would never understand their choices to live without the steady assurance of food, water, and a safe place to sleep.

“Sounds like a ranting lunatic to me,” Nina said. “Unfortunately, even Phoenix has its share of crazies. Who knows what he meant. He probably doesn’t know himself. Forget about it.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Gretchen said, not sure at all but moving in step with Nina toward the car.

Nina tucked her arm through Gretchen’s. “Let’s stop at Starbucks on the way to the China Doll Shop. You look like you could use a little caffeine boost.”

Gretchen laughed weakly. “Any more surprises like the one I just had, and I won’t need jet fuel to keep me going.” She was uneasy about the encounter with the stranger. Under the circumstances, she couldn’t discount anything that might lead to her mother. His sudden appearance on the sidewalk challenged Gretchen’s resolve to remain calm and focused. Tomorrow, in the light of day, she would try to find the man and question him.

“It’s cooling off,” Nina observed as they sped away.

Gretchen felt hot and sticky. She didn’t think the evening temperature had changed much since the sun vanished in a fiery orange blaze. Night descends quickly in the desert. The sun is high and hot one minute, gone the next. Gretchen thought the desert should cool off at sunset. It certainly wasn’t true tonight. The Impala’s thermometer registered ninety degrees outside, and Gretchen was grateful when the car’s air-conditioning kicked in.

Armed with two fully leaded espresso frappuccinos, they zipped along through the Arizona night with a steady running commentary from Nina on life’s mysteries.

“For example,” Nina said. “Can you tell me why teddy bear collectors look just like the bears they collect?”

“Nope,” Gretchen said, slurping the iced coffee. “I never noticed.”

“It’s true, you know. Next time we’re at a doll and bear show, pay attention to the bear collectors. And men…”

“Let’s not go there.” Gretchen tugged her cell phone from her purse and checked for missed calls while Nina wove expertly through traffic. She sighed heavily when she saw that no one had called. Not Steve. Not her mother.

“I don’t mean men in general, I’m talking about male doll collectors,” Nina continued. “They spend more money than women do. They demand good quality and are very detail-minded. Why is that? Your mother loves to work with male clients on restoration projects.” Nina downshifted for a traffic light. “Your current abode is on the way, well nearly on the way. I called the shop from the restaurant, and Julia promised to stay open tonight until nine, so we have time to pick up Tutu. Let’s see what the two new friends are up to.”

At the house someone had obviously had a rip-roaring good time, with special emphasis on rip. The first clue that something was amiss was Tutu’s lowered head and downcast eyes when she greeted them at the door. A sure sign of guilt. Gretchen, leading the way, stepped in the second clue.

“Yuck,” she said, lifting her foot. She glared at the perpetrator and slipped out of her shoes. “You can clean this mess, Nina. And my shoe. You forgot to put down one of those dog pads before we left. I’m checking on Wobbles.”

“I’m sure this isn’t all Tutu’s fault,” Nina called after her.

Without responding, Gretchen stalked past an overturned lamp and stepped around globs of stuffing pulled from a sofa pillow. She found Wobbles in the laundry room, buried in a pile of her folded clothes on top of the dryer. The bowl of dry cat food she had left on the washing machine was almost empty.

“Did you have anything to do with that mess?” she asked him.

Wobbles stretched luxuriantly and meowed a soft hello.

Gretchen stroked his back. “I’m glad you didn’t cave in to peer pressure,” she said. “The canine is in big trouble.”

She could hear Nina reprimanding Tutu. “Naughty Tutu. Shame on you.”

Gretchen dialed Steve’s home number from the laundry room to allow Nina plenty of time to clean up. “Hey,” she said brightly when he answered. “Finally, I found you.”

“It’s been a long day,” Steve said. “You know the drill. Work around the clock. How’s it going?”

“Things here are complicated. I don’t know where to begin explaining the situation to you.”

“It’s late here, you know, and I have an early morning meeting,” Steve said, yawning. “Maybe we can talk tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Gretchen said, disappointed. She had waited all day to speak with Steve, and now he was putting her off. That seemed to happen more and more these days. “How was dinner?”

“Schmoozing and boring.”

“Who went with you?”

There was a pause on the other end.

“A few partners, one of the interns.”

“An intern?”

“Courtney. Why?”

Gretchen felt her old nemesis, jealousy, roaring through her veins and zapping her system like an electrical shock. Zip. Zap. Alert. Attention. She tried to ignore it. “No reason,” she said.

“Gretchen, I know what you’re thinking. But it’s nothing like that. She’s a kid. You met her, remember? It was strictly business, Gretchen. She rounded out the table.”

Gretchen remembered Courtney. The dumpling with the broad, beaming, innocent smile and the glint of determined ambition in her eyes. Gretchen was good at reading eyes, and Courtney’s said, I’m on the prowl, and I’m looking for the man who will help me get ahead.

Was she the woman Steve had slept with whose name he had conveniently forgotten?

Gretchen heard background music playing through the phone gripped at her ear. She closed her eyes and willed herself to stay cool and composed. She could hear Nina calling her name from the front of the house.

“I’ve got to go,” she said. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Call me when you have a chance.”

“Will do,” Steve said and disconnected.

Nina peeked into the laundry room. “Oh, oh,” she said when she saw the expression on Gretchen’s face and the phone in her hand. “What happened?”

“Steve took his summer helper to the charity dinner tonight.”

“I thought you had conquered the jealousy issue years ago.”

“Apparently not.” Gretchen stabbed the power button on her phone, and it beeped off.