Ding Dong Dead (5 page)

“I’m going to do a walk-through,” Nina said. “My expertise is needed elsewhere.”

“Go and create,” April said.

April was thrilled to show Gretchen the display she was working on. She had almost completed a collection of Robert Tonner dolls—sixteen-inch Tyler Wentworth dolls with their ultramodern hair fashions and up-to-date casual wear. Fleece, peasant tops, jean jackets, accessories. Gretchen also admired a collection of Seventeen dolls by Ashton-Drake, wearing hip teenage fashions.

“But some of these are new dolls,” Gretchen said, dazzled but puzzled. “They aren’t old enough to be part of the original collection, are they?”

April smiled. “One of the ladies who is coming to our luncheon donated them after I solicited for a contribution. Can you believe it?”

Gretchen shook her head in wonder, feeling very emotional. The doll collectors of Phoenix were some of the most generous, loving people she had ever met. This collection went far beyond her wildest expectations. If this, Gretchen’s first room of dolls, could make her tear up, what else was in store for her?

“I’ve been so busy trying to shape the play and the players that I forgot about our actual cause, this museum.” Gretchen wiped away a tear of joy.

“And this is only the beginning.” April stood back from the display with a critical eye. “Wait until after the fundraiser, when we have more money. Eventually we’ll open the upstairs rooms, too.” She picked up one of the dolls from the table and smoothed the hair. “This is one of the original owner’s dolls. Remember Starr?”

How could Gretchen forget the teenager dolls? “And Starr’s friends, Tracy and Kelley,” she said.

April held up two more 1980s dolls. “We don’t have a Shaun doll, but I’m on the lookout. He’s my favorite. He was the guy everybody wanted to date.”

“He’s a doll, April,” Gretchen said, laughing. “Not a real guy.”

“Not like your hunk,” April said. “If Matt were a doll, he’d be Shaun. Hot, sexy, smart, fun.”

“He
is
all that.”

“Starr and her doll friends went to Springfield High,” April said. “They came with schoolbooks, tambourines for their band, yearbooks, and all the latest fashions from the eighties.”

“Those were the days,” Gretchen said. “Roller-skating, pep rallies, wholesome fun.”

April snorted. “Wholesome fun! We watched all those teenage slaughter movies. Remember those? Remember
Friday the 13th
with Adrienne King and Kevin Bacon? What a hunk that Kevin was. We’d be glued to the screen, chomping on popcorn, watching those poor camp counselor kids get chased around and killed by a psychopath.” She snorted again. “I wouldn’t exactly call it a wholesome time, but it sure was fun.”

“Where’s Enrico?” Gretchen asked.

April motioned to a Mexican tapestry purse hanging on the back of a chair. “Sleeping.”

“What are you—”

Gretchen’s next question was interrupted by a glass-shattering scream coming from above, someplace on the second floor of the massive house.

She knew that voice.

“Nina!” she shouted, rushing down the hall.

Another scream.

She reached the circular staircase and ran up them, taking them two at a time.

Nina screamed for the third time.

Gretchen reached the top of the stairs with her mother right behind her. They stopped at the landing and listened. Caroline, her breath ragged, grasped the dark wood banister on the landing for support.

“Are you okay?” Gretchen asked her mother, worried.

Caroline nodded. “I’ll be all right. Where do you think she is? Nina!”

There was no response.

“You go that way,” Gretchen said, pointing to a hall on the left before turning to the one to the right.

She listened to her mother’s footsteps on the tile floor, then heard her open a door and call out her sister’s name.

Gretchen did the same. As she approached the second room, she heard a tiny, muffled voice. “I’m in here.”

Gretchen followed Nina’s voice into a room that had been converted into a large storage closet. Every bit of space was filled with boxes of dolls that hadn’t been catalogued yet. Stacks and stacks of them with little room to enter.

“Where are you?”

“Here.”

“I found her,” Gretchen called loud enough for her mother to hear. Then she squeezed down a narrow aisle between the boxes until she found her aunt on the floor.

Nina was a sight to behold. All that was visible were two red high heels and bare calves sticking out from underneath a display case piled high with boxes. “Help,” Nina croaked, her voice muffled under the case.

“What are you doing down there?” Wasn’t this exactly in character for her aunt? Nina wasn’t happy unless she was the center of attention. What better way than to worm under a piece of furniture and start screaming.

Her aunt wiggled her legs, almost stabbing Gretchen with a spiky heel.

Caroline appeared in the doorway and accurately read Gretchen’s annoyed expression.

“Nina’s physically okay,” her mother called down the steps to April. “It’s her mental state we’re concerned with.” She squeezed into the room. “What was all the screaming about?”

“I’m stuck,” Nina cried. “Help me get out.”

Gretchen lifted and moved several boxes, stacking piles even higher to make more room to work. Nina’s heels continued to swing wildly. “Quit kicking or we’ll leave you to get out by yourself.” Her aunt lowered her feet.

Gretchen cleared enough space to get on one side of the case while Caroline got on the other. They tipped it back to release a discombobulated Nina. She was a mess. Mascara was smudged under her eyes, and her hair stood straight up, smashed into a Mohawk.

“How did you get under there in the first place?” Caroline said, holding on to her sister’s arm to steady her as she rose. “Why would you crawl under a display case? Look at your dress. It’s filthy.”

Nina acted like she didn’t hear them, focusing instead on the floor. “Tutu, darling, come to momma. Baby dolly, pooh bear, come, come.”

Whimpering came from behind another stack of boxes. Nina edged through and extracted the schnoodle, giving her a big bear hug. “I was so worried.”

“What is going on?” Caroline said. “You screamed like you were about to be murdered.”

“It was terrible,” Nina said, her lip quivering. “But it’s gone now.”

“What’s gone?” Gretchen scanned the room for poisonous critters. A black widow spider would have her leaping from the room, leaving the rest to fend for themselves.

Her aunt didn’t even hear her.

“Give me Tutu,” Caroline said, “before you drop her. And pull yourself together. You frightened us badly.”

“Give me a minute.”

While Caroline attempted to get an answer from Nina, Gretchen wandered the narrow pathways. A small wooden container about the size of a shoe box was propped open on top of one of the stacks.

“That’s it,” Nina said, pointing at the little box with a trembling finger. “It came out of there.”

Gretchen edged away. “What? A spider?”

“No,” Nina said. “Nothing like that.”

Cautiously, Gretchen made her way over and picked up the wooden container. “What a beautiful doll trunk!” Old-fashioned travel stickers were pasted on the trunk in random fashion. Flowered paper lined the inside of the trunk, and it had a tiny drawer on one side where accessories could be stored. “It’s old but in very good shape,” Gretchen said, bringing it back with her.

“It’s also empty,” Caroline noted, glaring at her sister before saying to Gretchen, “Travelers used to apply stickers to their travel trunks. These are faded with age, and they are certainly authentic. Even the hinges are antiques. A lucky doll must have toured the world inside of it.”

“This one is from Cairo.” Gretchen had to squint to make out the lettering on the worn stickers. “Another from London.”

She glanced at her aunt. Nina was pale and leaned against the display case. “What came out of the trunk?” she said to her. “A bat?”

“No, not even close.” She patted her hair down with both hands and eyed the trunk suspiciously. “You’re going to laugh at me.”

“No we won’t,” Gretchen said.

“Yes, you will.”

Caroline crossed her arms and scowled. Gretchen closed the trunk lid and waited.

“I came up here to look around like you asked me to, Caroline, to give you design ideas. The trunk was right over there where you found it, Gretchen, but it was closed. When I came in the room, I thought something inside of it called out to me.”

“Like what?” Gretchen asked. “Like, ‘Nina, oh, Nina’?”

“You’re laughing.”

“No, I’m not. I believe you.”

One time, when Gretchen had ignored her aunt’s warnings, brushing them off as fanciful imaginings, Nina had almost been killed trying to prove herself.

Gretchen would never laugh at her aunt’s antics again. If nothing else, Nina added a little more spice to the already flavorful southwestern atmosphere. This, though, was the first time inanimate objects had spoken to her.

“Okay then.” Nina finished arranging her wayward hair into a semblance of her bob, jeweled fingers fluttering. “I heard something like an ‘ooooohhh’ coming from the area around the trunk. As I went closer, I discovered that the sound was coming from inside it. The sound was like someone moaning or like the wind howling.”

Gretchen and Caroline exchanged glances.

“I opened the trunk. What a mistake.” She sighed heavily and let her breath rasp out. “Then,” she said, animated now, the actress in her coming to the surface, “a ghost flew out of it, right into my face and through my body like I didn’t exist. It was like a billow of smoke. For a second I thought I was a goner. But here I am.”

Gretchen gaped.

“I don’t know what to say,” Caroline said slowly.

Loud sputtering laughter came from behind them.

April stood in the doorway. “Ha, ha, ho, ho, hee, hee.”

Gretchen was about to lose control, too. “April,” she warned, holding back her own belly laugh, “you have to stop.”

“Hee-hee, haw-haw. I know, I know. I’m trying.” April pulled a tissue from a pocket and blew her nose. “What if you released a genie?” she said, cracking up again. “Wouldn’t that be sweet? We better find it and get our three wishes. Oh, this is rich.”

“It frightened me almost to death,” Nina said, offended. “Even Tutu saw it. She ducked behind some boxes, and I dove for the floor and crawled under the display case as fast as I could. That’s when I got stuck.”

That set April off again.

Caroline attempted to hide a smile, but it finally got the best of her and she let loose and joined April.

“This isn’t funny,” Nina said.

“All I can see in my mind is you stuck under the case,” April screeched.

“I’m so happy I was able to entertain you,” Nina snapped. “But something real flew out of that doll trunk, and I’m going to find out what it was.”

“Nina,” Caroline said, attempting to get serious, “we have enough to do without chasing after ghosts. Quit trying to make life more complicated than it already is. Let’s get the luncheon over with and the museum ready for the opening. Then you can chase ghosts.”

“I’m not sure that’s the best advice.” Gretchen wasn’t about to let this opportunity get away. What a great way to keep Nina busy and away from the play production. “We’ll be spending a lot of time at the museum, and we wouldn’t want to share space with a malicious spirit, would we? I think it’s important that Nina pursue this.”

“I plan to.” Nina was back in form. “Ghosts are real,” she said. “I just overreacted to its appearance because I wasn’t prepared. I’m going to the New Age shop for more information.”

“Good idea,” Gretchen said.

“But I already know a little something about the subject of ghosts,” Nina continued. “We need to be alert for strange sounds or weird smells.”

“Lights going on and off,” Gretchen added.

“Blasts of cold air.” Nina had a glint in her eyes. This was her kind of problem. “Objects moving. Someone has unfinished business on earth, and I’m going to find out what it is.”

Caroline steps from the car. Matt Albright waits in front of the police station to escort her inside. He has impeccable manners—opening doors for her, offering coffee, performing the obligatory small talk.
How have you been? How’s Nina? By the way, you have a beautiful daughter with a matching soul.

He scores extra points for mentioning Gretchen’s inner beauty.

Caroline is sure he feels the same as she does under the circumstances, uncomfortable because of their personal relationship, wanting to get the unpleasant task over with as quickly as possible.

The mother and the boyfriend size each other up.

“After you,” he says, showing her into a room.

She doesn’t really want to know the truth, so why did she make the call to the detective? Out of a sense of truth and justice? Yes. But also out of fear.

He leaves her alone. A large mirror on the wall shows her that her face is as pale as her silver hair. Is it a two-way mirror? Is someone on the other side?

She sits down at a square table in the middle of the room and rakes her silver hair with her fingers, thinking of her daughter. Two nuts from the same black walnut tree, her husband used to say when he was alive. Before the fatal car accident that took him but thankfully left her daughter physically unharmed. She hopes the emotional scars have faded if not totally healed. Gretchen assures her they have, but her daughter’s nightmares tell Caroline the truth.

God, she misses him. Nothing could ever make up for her loss. Nobody, anywhere, could replace that man. Gretchen reminds her so much of him, although everyone else says mother and daughter resemble each other. They have the same strong build, but her daughter has her father’s inquisitive mind, boldly taking on and dealing with life’s hardships, sometimes acting a little too impulsively for her own good.