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and moved around her.
She held out an arm to stop him. You know who I am,
she said decisively.
Albert s face was swollen and blackened, and she no-
ticed that his limp was more pronounced than when he d
entered Bert s. He looked exactly like the picture Daisy
had shown her. If he d had time to heal, she probably
wouldn t have recognized him.
He stopped, looked directly at her, and nodded. I ve
seen you with Daisy, he said through cracked and puffy
lips.
Goodbye, Dolly 247
What happened to your face?
Wrong place at the wrong time. It s nothing to you.
I heard a cop did it.
You heard wrong. He stared at her defiantly.
Gretchen knew he wouldn t talk to her because she
wasn t from the street, she wasn t one of his kind. Or per-
haps Nacho had shared his anger at Gretchen and the rea-
son why. Albert might blame her for his abuse at the hands
of the Phoenix police.
I m sorry about what happened to you, she said. If I
am in any way to blame
You re not. He cut her off. It s got nothing to do with
you. You go home and stay out of trouble.
You saw the man at the auction, the one who was
pushed? Tell me who did it.
Go home, he said roughly. And watch out. His face
softened. You remind me of my sister.
Your sister?
Same hair, same lots of things. She moved away.
Maybe you know her. Susan Thoreau well, its Mertz now
that she s married.
Gretchen shook her head.
Hey Thoreau, someone called out, and a man came up
and high-fived Albert. What s happenin man?
Coppin a little friendly comfort. Albert held up the
Bert s Liquor bag. This here is one of Daisy s friends.
He gestured toward Gretchen. Meet BJ.
Gretchen reached out to grasp the offered hand, a hand
coated with grime. She forced herself not to flinch. He was
a two-handed shaker, working his left hand over the top of
their clutched right hands.
After giving her an appreciative stare, BJ broke the shake
and popped Albert lightly in the chest. See ya later. He
looked at Gretchen. Don t follow this guy s lead when you
cross the street. He s color-blind, ya know. He ll have ya
crossing against the light cuz he can t tell red from green.
248 Deb Baker
Catch ya, Albert said, and he limped away, crossing in
the middle of the street and heading back the way he came.
BJ beelined for the liquor store.
Gretchen watched Albert go. How could these people
live like this? Scrounging for basics like food and shelter,
living for their next cheap bottles of booze, rejecting offers
of assistance. Gretchen couldn t imagine what their lives
must be like in July when temperatures remained in the
triple digits, day and night.
Not all were alcoholics, but most of those Gretchen met
were. Many who remained on the street for any length of
time had psychological issues. Like Daisy. Sweet and
harmless but unbalanced and unwilling to accept treat-
ment.
Maybe living in the make-believe world Daisy had cre-
ated was easier than facing reality.
Gretchen felt as if she could use a little escape from
it herself right about now.
How did Albert escape from the reality of his life? The
booze, of course.
With one hand on the car door, a thought struck her.
Color-blind?
Did BJ say Albert was color-blind?
Gretchen started running down the street. Nimrod let
out a yip, and she slowed slightly, readjusting him against
her side.
She ran two blocks and stopped at a corner, looking both
ways. There he was. She could see him up ahead. The man
walked fast for someone with a bad leg who was going
nowhere.
Getting closer, she called out his name, and he turned
and waited for her to catch up.
She stopped in front of him, her breath fast and ragged,
more from the discovery than the physical exercise. You re
color-blind? she said.
A little.
Goodbye, Dolly 249
What s a little? Gretchen wanted to know. You re ei-
ther color-blind or you aren t, right?
Okay, I m color-blind, but it s no big deal. I forget
about it all the time.
So. . . do you confuse all the colors?
Albert shrugged. What s this about?
I m curious. For example, if I see blue, what color do
you see?
What is this, some kind of test? Albert frowned at her.
Humor me, okay? What color would you see?
Daisy tells me I see purple.
What color would be blue?
What?
Gretchen wasn t communicating well. She knew it.
You see blue, I see . . .
She waited.
I see blue, Albert said. You see green.
Gretchen stared at him. According to Nacho, Albert had
seen someone get out of a blue truck and push Brett into
the street.
But Albert hadn t seen a blue truck. He d seen a green
one.
" 37
"
A green truck.
Gretchen had watched Howie get into a blue truck and
drive off after the auction, after Brett had been killed.
Albert had seen a man get out of a truck that, it turns
out, was actually green.
Gretchen blanched.
The cop at her house. Her neighbor said the police offi-
cer who had been at her home, looking for her, was driving
a green truck.
A cop had beaten Albert, and, judging by Albert s phys-
ical condition, the attacker meant business.
Why would she be a target? She didn t have the Ginny
dolls, and she didn t know anything significant about hid-
den treasures or murder victims.
Wait a minute.
She knew plenty.
Was someone really after her?
Far-fetched, Gretchen reminded herself as she picked
up her cell phone.
She still had Chiggy s broken Kewpie dolls in her trunk.
To her, they weren t worth two bucks, but they were the
only things that connected her to whatever was going on.
She had to ditch the dolls as fast as possible and get out
of this circle of murdering thieves.
Howie Howard s answering machine turned on after the
sixth unanswered ring.
It s Tuesday at five o clock, Gretchen informed the
Goodbye, Dolly 251
recording. When I spoke to you last, you offered to take
the box of Kewpie dolls and find the owner. I assume that
offer still stands. If anyone s been inquiring about them,
please let them know that I ll be returning them to you to-
night at Brett s memorial service. Getting the box of Ginny
dolls back is no longer important to me. She stressed the
next sentence. I m returning the box. No questions asked.
See you then.
Gretchen hung up, threw the cell phone on the passen-
ger seat, and headed home. She had a few hours before the
service, an event she was dreading but knew she had to at-
tend.
As the broad side of Camelback Mountain came into
view, her mother called.
What s new? Caroline said, unsuspecting in her
cheerfulness.
Not much, Gretchen said, keeping her eye out for a
green truck.
If only her mother knew! But it was too late to hit her
with all Gretchen s problems.
What had she gotten herself into?
I need you to look at something, Gretchen said, when
Janice Schmidt opened her front door. It s in my work-
shop.
I m making dinner right now, Janice said. I d be
happy to come over afterward.
It s kind of important, Gretchen insisted.
Janice hesitated. She must have seen the seriousness on
Gretchen s face because she said, Let me turn the stove
off and get the kids.
Don t bother knocking, Gretchen said, walking away.
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