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truth is yet. If you had told him, Steve would be in jail right
this minute, and the police would have considered the case
closed.
I m aiding and abetting.
Nothing of the sort. What if they had arrested you? If
it was your knife, maybe you re being set up.
I hadn t thought of that. In all the excitement, the
ramification of the weapon in Ronny s back belonging to
her hadn t sunk in. How could she explain how the knife
got there?
You don t really think Steve killed the reporter, do
you? Gertie asked.
No. Gretchen wished her voice was firmer.
Do you want to find the real killer?
Of course.
Then figure it out.
That was Gertie. Making the impossible sound simple.
In an emergency, Gertie Johnson was the person to be with.
Totally self-sufficient. Maybe it came from living in the
isolation of northern Michigan. Maybe it was just Gertie s
resilient nature.
Exactly what did Ronny say to you at the doll show?
He said that some story he was working on was about
to blow sky high. He said something like this is better news
than dolls murdering people.
That s odd, Gertie said.
The guy is . . . was odd. I m sure the comment didn t
mean anything.
Gertie s sigh was unmistakable. This is what I keep
trying to tell Blaze. When murder s involved, everything is
important. You need to find out what he meant by that.
And how do I find out?
The guy was a reporter. He wrote stuff down, right?
Goodbye, Dolly 73
Right. Gretchen remembered Ronny s recording unit.
Start with a thorough search of his house. And
Gretchen, watch your back.
The line went dead.
Gretchen s back was feeling extremely exposed and
vulnerable.
Ronny lived in the Palm Tree Trailer Park, Nina said.
Off of Twenty-fourth Street.
Did Daisy tell you that?
Nina nodded. Daisy never stops talking.
She knows everything. It s amazing.
She just wants to stretch out on the couch and watch
television all day. She s clutching the remote like it s a
newborn baby.
Gretchen sat at the worktable. Pieces from a ball-
jointed doll body lay before her. Nineteen pieces, she
said, holding up a lower leg. And it s been taken com-
pletely apart. How am I going to figure this out? I hope I
don t have this many dolls to repair again tomorrow, or I ll
never get through them all. I ve hardly started this bunch.
First day is always the busiest. You ll have time tomor-
row at the show to catch up.
Gretchen looked at the assortment of dolls requiring
restringing and shook her head in dismay.
Perk up, Nina said. I have something special for you.
What? Gretchen spun her stool around. A present?
For me?
For you. Nina handed her a plastic bag with Beyond
the Galaxy etched on the side. Open it, she said, grinning.
Gretchen peeked into the bag, then looked at Nina, puz-
zled. She extracted a pair of glasses with cardboard frames
and indigo-colored lenses. Are they 3-D glasses?
No, no. These are aura glasses. They re going to help
you see auras.
74 Deb Baker
Gretchen stared at Nina. According to her aunt, colors
emanated from all matter, including cacti, doll collections,
and wee-wee pads. She could divine the future, she claimed,
by studying the color surrounding a human body. Gretchen
had no hard evidence to back up Nina s outrageous claim,
nor was she expecting Nina to ever prove it conclusively.
Put them on, Nina said, excited.
Feeling foolish, Gretchen slipped on the flimsy frames.
Now what?
Well? What do you see?
Gretchen s gaze fell on Wobbles, her three-legged cat,
who at the moment was occupied with a small, fuzzy ball.
He batted it across the room and pounced, unaware that he
had a physical handicap. I don t know. I guess I see light
around Wobbles.
Nina clapped her hands. I knew you had the gift. Now,
what color are you seeing?
I m not seeing a color, just light. Gretchen pulled off
the frames and looked at them. The tint on the lenses must
draw light.
No, the tint has nothing to do with it, Nina said, indig-
nant. It s happening because of you. Keep working with
them. With practice, you ll see colors, and then we ll talk
about what the different colors represent. Eventually, you
won t need the glasses. You ll be just like me.
Gretchen stifled a burst of laughter and turned it into a
throat clearing. Just like her aunt? She didn t think so. No
one on this planet was just like Nina.
So you re telling me that you see different colors
around everyone?
Almost everyone.
Who s the exception?
Nina squirmed.
Come on, tell me. She was on to something.
Men, Nina said, reluctantly. I can t see male auras.
Gretchen chuckled.
Goodbye, Dolly 75
I can t figure men out either. I m sure special glasses
won t help.
Do you like them? Nina asked, meaning the glasses.
Love them, Gretchen replied, meaning the men.
You never know when they ll come in handy, Nina
said. Carry them in your purse.
I will. Gretchen laid the glasses on the cluttered work-
bench. I need to pack up more Ginny dolls for tomorrow.
If the show had stayed open another few hours, I would
have sold out.
She rummaged through her mother s sale stock and se-
lected a safari Ginny, a graduation Ginny in a white robe,
and a drum majorette Ginny in a red uniform. These are
so cute. I hate to sell them.
You ll make your mother proud, Nina said, taking
them from Gretchen and laying them on the worktable.
She peered into the bag of dolls awaiting repair. Look,
she said, Here s that package from our friendly postal em-
ployee. You never opened it.
Gretchen sighed. It s probably one more doll that
needs repairing.
Nina ripped open the outer wrapping with one fluid, prac-
ticed motion and worked her fingernails around the edges
of the package, loosening the tape. It s wrapped well, she
commented, removing a layer of bubble wrap and setting it
aside.
Gretchen continued digging through boxes looking for
more dolls her mother wanted to sell. I can t find any
more Ginnys. I guess I ll take Barbie dolls.
Gretchen, look what was in the package. Nina held up
a Blunderboo Kewpie doll.
Gretchen rose and took the Kewpie from Nina. She
turned it over in her hand. The three-inch doll bore the
O Neill mark on its feet and the red heart on its belly. It
has the same markings as the one that broke yesterday.
Only this one is real. And unbroken.
76 Deb Baker
Why send a perfectly fine doll to be repaired? Nina
asked. That doesn t make sense.
Gretchen ran her finger over its naked, chubby body and
almost dropped it in startled surprise.
Under her fingers, she felt a crack where the head and
body had been reconnected.
Nina, this one s been repaired, too.
In the same place?
Yes.
Nina clamped a hand across her mouth theatrically, her
eyes wide. Then she removed her hand to speak. I have a
bad feeling about this.
Gretchen stared at the doll. It s a coincidence. A fluke.
Then who sent it?
Gretchen dug through the packaging but couldn t find a
return address. Was it wrapped in this? Gretchen held up
a brown paper bag.
Nina nodded.
Gretchen turned the bag over and saw Bert s Liquor
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