Goodbye Dolly

petition. It won't be circulating anymore.'

'Someone's going to shoot Ronny one of these day,'

Nina said, grabbing the paper and reading the names. 'I heard he went from table to table insulting the doll dealers with outrageous accusations and comments, trying to rile them.'

'He'll do anything to sell papers,' April said, working on her third hot dog and her second bag of potato chips.

'Even if he has to make things up.'

'Don't I know it,' Nina said.

Gretchen watched April eat. The woman would have to go to Curves several times a day to work off the huge quantities of food she liked to consume. No wonder she was broke. She spent all her money on unhealthy snack food.

Gretchen took a bite of the hot dog and avoided Nina's eyes, which reminded her of Tutu's when the schnoodle begged at the kitchen table. Nina was bound to fall off her vegan diet by the end of the day.

'At least Steve knows he has some competition,' Nina said. 'But Ronny? Gag me.'

Gretchen stared at her aunt. 'I really mean it, Nina. I'm not going back to Steve.'

'Even if he wants to fly to Vegas for a quickie wedding?'

'Especially not then.'

'Just checking to see if you changed your mind. I saw you talking to him. You seemed cozy.'

Cozy?

'He's pressuring me,' Gretchen said. 'I don't want to talk about him.'

Nina broke a nacho chip in half and nibbled. 'I know why Detective Albright's helping out at the doll show.'

Gretchen raised her eyebrows.

'He's working on his doll problem.' Nina looked at April. 'Probably for Gretchen's sake.'

'He can ask her out anyway,' April said. 'Who cares if he doesn't like dolls.'

'He's off duty today,' Nina said. 'And he's hiding from his soon-to-be ex. She'll never think to look here. He spends five minutes at a time walking the aisles, looking at the dolls, then he takes a break in the back room to recover.'

'He seemed pretty uncomfortable when I saw him last,'

Gretchen said.

'And hot,' April added. 'As in sexy hot.'

'I heard Matt's wife is a nutcase,' Nina said. 'His mother has plenty of stories to tell about her. Speaking of, here comes Blabby Bonnie.'

Bonnie bustled up, her red wig slightly askew. 'Gretchen, I'll watch your table for a few minutes. You have to go see the Boston Kewpie Club's table. You know Kewpies are my specialty, but even I haven't seen anything like their combined collections.'

The Bostonians' table overflowed with Kewpie dolls. All had knobs of hair on their crowns and long wisps of hair tumbling over their foreheads. Tiny molded blue wings protruded from bare pink shoulders.

Most Kewpies didn't wear clothes. Some in the Boston collection wore scarves or sunbonnets and clutched bouquets of flowers or waved flags, and the rest performed their spirited deeds fully exposed for all to see.

'Kewpie is short for Cupid,' Margaret Turner, of the sensible walking shoes, was explaining to a cluster of curious shoppers.

'This one…' Eric selected a Kewpie from the table.

'… is called Always Wears His Overshoes. And this one is a Kuddle Kewpie. Note the cloth face and soft body.'

'I have a Kewpie Dog at home,' someone said.

'That would be Doodle Dog,' Margaret said. 'Or Kewpiedoodle Dog. He was modeled after the original designer's Boston terrier.'

'Who was the original designer?' someone asked.

'Ruby O'Neill,' Milt Wood replied.

'No, it was Rosie O'Neill,' someone else said, correcting him.

'That's right,' Margaret said. 'Her name was Rosie O'Neill. Let me show you a few more.'

Several of the club's members wandered back from lunch. Gretchen, relieved that Steve was nowhere in sight, nevertheless kept a sharp eye out for him. Nimrod yipped from the purse on her shoulder. She took him out and cuddled him in her hands. Eric held up another Kewpie for the group. 'Kewpie Carpenter,' he said. 'He uses the hammer in his belt to fix things.'

'Here's a Blunderboo,' Margaret added. 'Note how he's rolling down a hill.'

Gretchen considered the Kewpie in Margaret's hand. A far superior design to the one from Duanne Wilson's box. Much more detailed and of higher-quality material. More importantly, it was the real thing, not a badly botched reproduction.

'I have a reproduction Blunderboo Kewpie with me,'

Gretchen found herself saying to what had now become a large gathering of doll collectors. 'It belongs to…' The box of Kewpies in her trunk would involve a long explanation she'd rather not get into. Why did she even mention it?

'… a friend,' she said. 'It's not nearly as nice as this one.'

That was the understatement of the year.

As she finished speaking, she spotted a man moving through the packed hall ahead of her. Something about his stride and his white hair seemed familiar. Could it be Duanne Wilson?

'Excuse me,' Gretchen said to the group of collectors.

'I need to get back to my table.'

Still carrying Nimrod, she turned and followed, weaving through the crowd as fast as she possibly could.

The man ahead of her must have been moving almost as fast, because she wasn't gaining quickly enough. She walked faster, clutching Nimrod to her chest, his tiny ears flapping wildly.

Determined to catch up with the man, she jostled her way down the aisle. She called his name, but he didn't turn around or give any sign that he'd heard.

That has to be him. I'll get my Ginnys back yet. He stopped at a table, his back still to her. Gretchen came up behind him and grabbed his sleeve, cradling Nimrod in her other arm.

The man turned, and Gretchen stared into his eyes. She'd never seen him before.

9

'Man, those doll collectors in there are a bunch of kooks,'

Ronny Beam says. He leans against the side of his car, eating a salami sandwich he pulled from a cooler in the trunk. Sandwich in one hand, can of iced tea in the other. What he really wants is a sip of whiskey from the coffee mug in the front seat, but that will have to wait, considering present company.

' 'Sweet cheeks,' I say to them, 'upchuck some juicy gossip for my paper,' but they're a tight-mouthed bunch. Tight something else, too, if you ask me.' He waves the can in his hand. 'Look at you, stuck out in this parking lot all day with the sun hotter than a cattle brander. What a job you got, huh?'

Ronny grins and takes another bite. Chews.

'I have it on them, though. Something bigger than anything I got so far. Somebody made a lot of money in the black market during Double-U Double-U Two. The big one. I happen to know there's a treasure hidden away. And guess where?' He nods knowingly and pops the last of the sandwich into his mouth. 'Inside dolls, that's where. All's I need is a little more background, and it goes to press,' he says through packed cheeks.

Ronny realizes he has raised his voice. He looks all around, hoping no one has overheard.

'That's all the preview I can give you for now. Better subscribe to Phoenix Exposed if you want to read a Pulitzer Prize-winning story.'

He pushs away from the car. 'One thing I know. Hanging around inside doll shows with a bunch of doll nuts