Someone—something—was here with him, and the only way she was going to get Charlie back was to go through this door and confront whatever it was.

She walked up to the door, turned the handle, and pushed it open.

A bell rang, announcing her arrival. As she stepped into the shop, someone said:

“Ah! At last! I was afraid you’d never get here.”

The words were spoken by a short man standing behind the cash register. He wore a silly engineer’s cap and a vest covered with the patches of numerous railroad companies. He was flashing a warm smile and there was something of a twinkle in his eye, as if in his spare time he moonlighted as a leprechaun. But despite his offbeat, quirky—even nerdy—appearance, there was an air of menace about him. It wafted off him like a bad smell.

“Where’s my son?” Annie said, pushing down her fear and struggling to fill her voice with authority.

He raised his palms in a gesture of reassurance. “Please, please, come in and let me—”

“Where is my son?” she said, her voice rising. “Where is Charlie? Tell me right now, or God help me I’ll take that stupid hat off your head and shove it down your goddamn throat.”

The man’s smile grew smaller and the eye twinkle vanished. “If you don’t show some civility, you’ll never know.”

She was about to repeat her demand at an even louder volume, but something told her to hold back. If she followed through on her threat, if she choked this man to death, she might never find her son.

In a more restrained tone, she said, “I’ve come all this way for him. I have to know he’s okay.”

“He is. He’s absolutely fine. And you’ll see him shortly. But there are a few matters I need to discuss with you first, if you’ll permit me. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Edwin Nabler, and you, of course, are the amazing Annie Blunt.” His smile came back. “I can’t begin to tell you what a fan I am.” A small grin. “Not, perhaps, in the way you might think, but I’ll get to that.”

“Who are you?”