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floor and stomped out the flame.
April returned with the bucket and flung water on the
remaining flames. We should join the fire department,
she said. We d be a great team.
Nimrod and Tutu are in the storage room, Nina said.
I closed the door so they wouldn t get hurt on the glass or
run into the fire. But I can t find Enrico anywhere.
Dolly Departed 147
Smoke still rose from the display case, but the flames
along the window had been completely extinguished.
Gretchen noted a thick, black substance where the fire had
died away. April took another swipe at the display case
with her dress.
We ll have company soon. You better put on your
dress, Gretchen advised her. The street was already filled
with people. Gretchen heard a siren approaching, a few
blocks away.
April flung the dress over her head, lumbered to the
open window, and spread her legs in a no-nonsense stance.
Her sundress, covered with black soot and burn holes,
wasn t white anymore. Everybody stay put right where
you are until we figure out what happened in here. Did any-
body see anything?
A kid with a red ball cap raised his hand. I did. I heard
a kaboom and glass flew all over the street.
Some guy threw something, another observer said.
He was wearing a do-rag on his head.
Ryan! Gretchen thought with dismay.
Anybody out there hurt? April called, sliding a know-
ing glance at Gretchen. She had thought of Ryan, too. No
one spoke up. Okay, then. I m taking that as a no. Any-
body see a little brown dog?
Gretchen stiffened, expecting someone to find Enrico s
mangled body lying on the pavement. The glass shards
would have acted like shrapnel, piercing the tiny dog s
hairless body. And the fire! Had he burned alive?
A few people on the street shook their heads. Enrico
must have been swept up in the force of the explosion and
flung away. The poor thing. Nothing that small would have
survived.
Nina cried into a tissue. Caroline wrapped her arms
148 Deb Baker
around her sister. Everything s going to be okay, she
said. Shhh.
We have to find Enrico. He has to be here somewhere.
We will, Gretchen assured her. He could have
jumped out the window and run away. She didn t believe
her own reassurance for one second.
A fire truck pulled to a stop outside, and the siren died
away. Several police officers arrived at the same time.
Brandon Kline was one of those who responded. Nina and
April told the tale, while Gretchen barely listened to the
officer s questions and the women s responses.
The professionals went about their business. Gretchen
stared at the window, or what was left of the window. All
their work ruined. But did it matter anymore? The whole
point of the exercise was to prepare the room boxes for dis-
play at Charlie s funeral, and they had already abandoned
the idea after finding the macabre dolls.
Why attack the shop window and destroy the display?
What if the answer was inside the room boxes? Not in the
intricate details they had so lovingly constructed, but in the
simplicity of one of the boxes the unfurnished kitchen.
What if the kitchen and the miniature peanut butter jar held
the solution to Charlie s and Sara s deaths?
Gretchen felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to
see an expression of concern on Detective Kline s face.
Detective, Gretchen said. We meet again.
I d like to inquire after your health. It appears to be in
constant jeopardy.
Gretchen gave him a weak smile and introduced him to
Nina.
Other emergency workers converged on the window,
and Gretchen looked at the opening.
The detective followed her gaze, and his face hardened.
Not a rifle shot from the street, he observed.
Dolly Departed 149
No. Gretchen had already deduced as much. What-
ever had blown through the shop window cast a wider path
of destruction than a rifle would. She studied the ruin that
had once been a display case. Burned up. The room boxes
were charred beyond recognition.
A jar of gasoline? she asked. Or two? There were
two explosions.
We ll find out.
Red tape, yellow tape, crime scene experts, reports, in-
terviews. The next hour was lost in speculation and repeat-
ing details of the blast.
Matt arrived, striding quickly through the debris. Did
anyone call for an ambulance? he asked the technicians
working the scene.
We aren t injured, Gretchen answered for them, hid-
ing the cuts on her arms by crossing them.
I want to make sure, he insisted. You should be ex-
amined.
April grinned widely behind him, smudges of soot on
her round face. Gretchen could almost hear her offering to
go first, but she remained silent. In a less stressful situa-
tion, she wouldn t have missed that opportunity.
I ll refuse to get into the ambulance, Gretchen said
firmly. I really am fine.
How about everyone else?
We re fine, Gretchen insisted. The other women nod-
ded.
Matt opened his mouth to argue but must have decided
it was a hopeless cause, because he walked away to confer
with the firefighters instead. Gretchen noticed that he
avoided looking directly at any of the doll cases.
Every few minutes Nina checked on Tutu and Nimrod,
then nervously paced on the sidewalk outside the shop.
Enrico! she shouted. Come to Momma.
150 Deb Baker
Detective Kline walked over to the open window where
Gretchen was standing. You can go now, he said. We ll
let you know what we find.
You must have suspicions, Gretchen said. What
caused this?
He ran a finger over the black substance on the win-
dowsill that Gretchen noticed earlier. Poor man s hand
grenades. When he saw the questioning look on her face, he
explained. This is tar, one of the ingredients sometimes
used in a Molotov cocktail. Tar causes the gasoline to stick
to whatever it hits. Then the effect is broader when it ignites.
Someone filled bottles with gasoline and tar, made crude
wicks out of rags, lit them, and threw them at the window.
Do you have a witness? Gretchen remembered the
discussion on the street. The bomber had worn a do-rag on
his head.
He nodded. And a potential suspect.
You work fast.
Just doing my job as quickly as possible.
She watched him approach a weeping Nina, place a
hand on her shoulder, and lean in to listen. Matt was con-
sulting with the other professionals on the scene, seeming
to have forgotten her for the moment.
She went in search of her purse.
Now where did I leave it?
I think I saw it under one of the dollhouse displays,
April said when Gretchen asked her to join in the search.
Not under that freakish Victorian. Look by the English
Tudor. You need to keep better track of your things, girl.
Gretchen spotted her white cotton bag under a table,
leaned down, and pulled it out.
Nina was still moping. Do you think Enrico is dead?
she sniffed. We can t leave without knowing what hap-
pened to him.
Dolly Departed 151
Gretchen straightened up and checked the contents of
her purse. She felt tears forming in her eyes, the first since
the attack. I know for a fact the little devil is just fine.
A warning snarl erupted from the depths of her purse.
" 20
"
Frozen Charlotte has a fascinating and mysterious history. Her
story was immortalized in a poem by Seba Smith, then set to
music in a folk ballad that spread far and wide.
A beautiful young woman and her lover set out on a sleigh to
attend a ball miles away from home. Her mother warned her to
wrap up in a blanket, for it was a bitterly cold night. But the young
woman refused the cover, and away they went. During their jour-
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