“I found this doll in a downstairs coat closet. You saw for yourself that it was an effigy of Mother and that it was wrapped with string?”
“Yes, but I fail to understand its significance.”
“That scarlet wool string is known as a life-thread. Each day a little of the thread is unwound until finally it all is gone. Then the person dies.”
“Not your mother, Lorinda! Surely, you don’t believe such a crazy superstition!”
“I don’t,” Lorinda answered, her voice barely above a whisper. “But Mother will if she learns about the doll. That is why she will die, unless I can do something to break the spell.”
To Penny the words seemed fantastic, but she realized Lorinda was deadly in earnest and convinced that she was speaking the truth.
“Let’s get to the bottom of this, Lorinda. How did the doll come into the house?”
“I only wish I knew. Obviously, it was brought by someone who hates my mother. The doll was carved in her image, and no doubt deadly basiko and dayama incantations were chanted as the string was wrapped tightly about the body.”
“Who told you all this lingo?” Penny demanded suspiciously. “Your stepfather?”
“I learned a little of it from him,” Lorinda admitted, “but most of my knowledge came from Celeste and Antón.”