Save Me - Lisa Scottoline [64]
“Have you ever read one?”
“No.”
“Do kids in your class read them?”
“All the girls do. They have the dolls, too.”
“Really?” They reached the bookstore, and Rose opened the heavy door. “So how’s it work? You read the book and you get the doll that’s in the book?”
Melly let go of her hand, skipping ahead. A woman standing at the octagon display of hardcovers looked up from behind her reading glasses, her gaze lingering a fraction too long on Melly’s face. Oblivious, Melly was already heading toward the Harry Potter books, in Fantasy. A cardboard Dumbledore presided over the section, his magic wand in hand. Behind him was a Hogwarts flag, its shield covered with fake spiderwebs.
“Mel, come check this out,” Rose called out, and Melly turned, her eyes bright and alert. She came alive in bookstores.
“Check what out?”
“This way.” Rose gestured at the children’s books section, a pastel-hued kingdom of pink mushrooms, cartoon parrots, and a papier-mâché cottage. “They probably have American Girl books, and we can pick some books for John.”
“I don’t want American Girl, Mom.”
“What about John? He needs books, too.” Rose smiled in an encouraging way, then walked toward the children’s department. “Follow me. Let’s do this, then go over to Harry Potter.”
“Okay.” Melly skipped ahead.
“Do you see the American Girl?”
“Over here.” Melly stood at a yellow shelf, her knees bent so they bowed backwards. It was her characteristic stance; she was double-jointed, one of the reasons she didn’t do well at sports.
“Find anything that looks good?”
“Nah.”
“Lemme see.” Rose came over and slid an American Girl paperback from the shelves. On the cover was a dark-haired girl in an old-fashioned straw hat. “Rebecca and the Movies.”
“She looks dumb.”
“Okay.” Rose shrugged, which was reverse psychology, the hallmark of professional parenting. “Maybe there’s a better one.”
“Here.” Melly slid one off the shelf and eyed the cover, which showed a girl with straight blond hair and a big smile, touching a butterfly.
“Lanie’s Real Adventures.” Rose thought it looked fine. “Wanna give it a try?”
“Amanda likes Lanie. She has a Lanie doll, too.”
Oops. “Amanda looks like Lanie, doesn’t she?”
“Yes.” Melly put the book back on the shelf, wedging it between the others with care. “Get it, Mom? You like the books that look like you. You get the doll that looks like you. You go on the website and make the doll that looks like you. Like Build-A-Bear, only with dolls.”
“Oh.” Rose wanted to kick herself, realizing the problem. None of the American Girls had a birthmark. She spotted one hugging a cute tricolored dog and picked it from the shelf, trying to recover. “Look at this one, about Nicki. She likes dogs, and we like dogs.”
“Bbsbssbsb.” John pumped his arm, and Rose put on a smile.
“He likes it. Let’s get it.”
An hour later, Rose pulled into the driveway at home, with sleeping kids, groceries, and a shopping bag of books. The clouds had darkened, and it looked like rain, so they were just in time. She cut the ignition and was about to wake Melly when she noticed a strange car parked in front of the house. It was a navy blue Crown Victoria, and in the next minute, two men in suits were getting out of the front seat and walking toward her car. They didn’t look like reporters or door-to-door salesmen, if there was such a thing anymore. She stayed in the driver’s seat and slid the key back in the ignition.
“Excuse me, Ms. McKenna?” one of the men called out, reaching into his pocket as he approached. He was young-looking, his sandy hair stiff with product, and he had on a dark suit and an edgy patterned tie. He held up a slim black billfold that flopped open to reveal a heavy, gold-toned badge.
Rose felt her heart stop.
“I’m Rick Artiss, with the District Attorney’s Office, Reesburgh County. Can I speak with you a minute?”
Chapter Thirty-six
Rose’s mouth went dry. Melly slept in the passenger seat, and John snored in the back, but for a split-second, she