[Jenson71]

The dirty thought cleared from my mind.

It was apparent this woman didn't know her husband owned "her" beloved r.aiders.

"Ms. Davis, before we go into any more details, I need to tell you something."

I told it to her. Straight. It was tough, but it was necessary. She sat down silent.

I looked at her with loving eyes. The poor doll. I excused myself so she could be alone for a while.

When I came back in, the window was open, the shade flapping in the breeze. I ran to it. There she was, fallen from a one story building, and dead...as dead as the 2004 chargers.

After my initial shock, I smiled. "Oak or maple?" I amusingly asked myself. It was so obviously balsa.

As I listened to the radio that night, I heard the strangest thing. The "dead" girl...Ms. Davis...had fled from the police station and was gone.