She yanked the suitcases out from under their--his--bed and began to throw in; the dresses, bras, underwear; pants, shirts, stockings; the jewelry box of rings and gold necklaces and special trinkets; the bottles of perfume and nail laquer and bags of make-up; hairdryer, straightener, Nair hair remover; shampoo and conditioner bottles; the stacks of photo frames sans photos; the archaeology books; the laptops, stereo, CDs. There wasn't enough room, so she pulled out several garbage bags for: the pots, pans, utensils, plates, bowls; the "genuine" African and Maori warrior masks; the fine sets of china and Japanese dolls; the Basano vase; the bag of money from the safe; the monkey's paw, the voodoo dolls, the Hope Diamond, the wedding dress.
He won't be home for another couple of hours. She threw the suitcases and bags into the van. A second thought, she went back inside and unlocked the Robert Doll from his glass case. She winked at him, placed a box of matches and another of gunpowder next to him, and then shut the front door behind her. She could hear movement from behind the door, and then the smoke alarm went off. She drove off.
He won't be home for another couple of hours. That gave her plenty of time.
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