The Dollmaker (23 page)

“It does to me.”

Claire swallowed. “That’s because you’re still living in the past. But the rest of us have moved on.” She walked quickly into the house.

A moment later, she heard the door close behind him as he followed her inside. “You’ve moved on, huh. Is that why you want me to help you find a doll that looks like Ruby?”

“That’s different. The doll exists, whether you believe me or not. It’s not a smokescreen or my imagination or anything else. The doll is real and so is this.” She removed the photograph from her purse and handed it to him.

He glanced up with a puzzled frown.

“I found it tonight as I was leaving work. Someone put it in a box and left it outside the door.” Claire nodded toward the picture. “Turn it over and read the back.”

He flipped it over, and as he read the inscription aloud, Claire shuddered. “To Mama.”

“Ruby didn’t write that,” she said. “I’m pretty sure it’s the same photograph that was stolen from here a few nights ago, and it didn’t have anything written on the back then.”

“Someone broke in here?”

“I think Mama left a window open. It was one night last week when we had one of those sudden thunderstorms. I was already in bed and I heard glass breaking. When I came downstairs, I saw that a vase had fallen in the sunroom and shattered on the floor. The window was open. I assumed the curtain had swept it off the table. Then I realized a picture of Ruby was missing from the same table.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“You didn’t believe me about the doll….” She shrugged and trailed off.

“Did you tell anyone?”

“I didn’t know who to tell. I didn’t want to worry Mama, and besides, I wasn’t even sure that the picture was really missing then. I thought I might have forgotten that I’d put it away. And now it turns up outside the studio, on a night when I’m working alone.”

“Did you see or hear anything unusual tonight? Have you noticed anyone suspicious hanging around the studio or gallery in the past few days?”

“A woman came in last Saturday. I thought she was part of a group that toured the studio that afternoon, but she didn’t leave with everyone else. She stood in front of a display case for a long time, staring at one of my pieces. Maybe she was just trying to make up her mind, because she did eventually buy it. But there was something about her that made me uneasy. I don’t even know how to explain it. She had on thick makeup that made her look…I don’t know…unnatural somehow. Now that I think back about it, I can’t help wondering if she was deliberately trying to conceal her real identity. But I guess that sounds a little paranoid. Or maybe just plain crazy.”

“I was a cop in this town for nearly ten years. Nothing much sounds crazy to me anymore.”

“Not even a doll that looks exactly like our missing daughter?”

He glanced back down at the photograph in his hand. “Did you have the picture displayed like this when it was taken?”

“No, it was in a wooden frame. I saved almost all of Ruby’s school projects. They’re put away in boxes in the attic. I’ve never seen that before.” Claire rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “This is going to sound a little crazy, too, but I think someone is trying to send me a message.”

“Or maybe someone’s just trying to mess with your head,” he said slowly.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen this kind of thing before. Some sick creep latches on to a story and tries to make himself a part of it.”

“After seven years?”

Dave handed the picture back to her. “Can you think of anyone who might have a grudge against you? Anyone who might want to upset or hurt you?”

“No, not like this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course I’m sure.”

His tone made Claire nervous. He was getting at something, but before she could ask him what he meant, his cell phone rang. He took it out of his pocket, glanced at the display and frowned. “I’m sorry. I have to take this. Do you mind?”

Claire watched as he opened the door and stepped out on the porch. She could hear him talking softly to the caller, and she told herself to tune out the conversation. Whatever was going on was none of her business.

Then she heard Ruby’s name, and followed him out to the porch. “Dave?”

His gaze met hers in the dark. “I’ll see you in a little while,” he said into the phone, then snapped it closed.

“What’s going on?” Claire asked nervously. “Who was that?”

“It’s a case I’m working on.”

“But I heard you say something about Ruby.”

“It’s not what you think. I’ve been making some inquiries about that doll maker you mentioned. I don’t have time to get into it now, but I’ll come back when I’m finished, if it’s not too late, and tell you everything I found out. Right now, though, I have to go.”

“Tell me now. You can’t make me wait!”

“She lives about thirty miles south of Houma. I swear, Claire, that’s all I know.”

Dave started down the steps, but she caught his arm. “Are you going to see her?”

“Right now? No. This doesn’t have anything to do with her.”

Claire’s grip tightened on his arm. “If you’re keeping something from me—”

“I already told you, I don’t know anything more about that doll than you do.”

“But you know
something.
I can see it in your eyes.”

“Claire, for your own sake, don’t push this.”

She drew back in fear. “What does that mean?”

“It means I’m in a hurry. I meant what I said a minute ago. I’ll come back later and we can talk more about Savannah Sweete. But now is not the time.”

“Dave?”

He half turned as he clambered down the stairs. “What is it?”

“Let me come with you.”

“That’s not a good idea. For a lot of reasons.”

“I’ll just follow you in my car if you don’t let me come.”

He turned. “I’ll lose you in five minutes.”

“Probably. But if this is about Ruby, I have a right to be there. You know I do.”

He searched the street for a moment, then scrubbed his hand down his face. “Maybe you do. Maybe you have more right to this truth than anyone else.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No more questions,” he said. “Let’s just get going.”

Claire stared out the window of Dave’s truck as they drove across the Huey Long and headed south on old Highway 90. Moonlight shimmered on the river as the willow trees that grew along the bank swayed in a mild breeze. Neon lights flashed above a honky-tonk set back from the road. The parking lot was full even on a Thursday night, though there wasn’t much traffic on the road.

“How much farther?” Claire finally asked.

“We’re almost at the turnoff. There’s a fishing cabin on a bayou just up the road. That’s where we’re going.”

“You still won’t tell me why we’re going there?”

“We’re meeting some people. You’ll find out the rest soon enough.” The lights of a passing car caught Dave in the face and he squinted. “I do need to tell you something before we get there, though. It’s something I should have told you a long time ago.”

Her heart quickened as she stared at his profile. “What is it?”

She saw his hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Two days after Ruby disappeared, I received a phone call from someone claiming to be her kidnapper.”

Claire felt the blood drain from her face. Another car passed them on the road before she was able to speak. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t. That was one of the demands. I wasn’t to tell anyone. Not the police or the FBI. Not even you.”

She lifted a quivering hand to her mouth. “You were in contact with our daughter’s kidnapper and you didn’t tell me? How could you keep that from me?”

“I was trying to save Ruby’s life. Claire, please try to understand. I was terrified of what they might do to her. I couldn’t take a chance on telling you. You were on the verge of a breakdown. I was afraid you might let something slip to the police.”

“But the FBI told us that if we were contacted, the worst thing we could do was try to deal with the kidnapper on our own. You were a cop. You knew that.”

“Somehow none of that matters when your own kid’s involved.”

Claire closed her eyes. “What happened?”

“I agreed to their demands. They wanted something from me and I gave it to them.”

“What did they want?” She was almost afraid to ask.

“Do you remember the homicide case I was working at the time of the kidnapping? The victim’s name was Renee Savaria.”

“I remember. Her body was found in the river. She was just a kid, eighteen or nineteen, I think. You never liked to talk about your cases, but I knew that one kept you awake at night. I’d sometimes hear you pacing in the other room, and I would lie in bed thinking about her poor parents and what they were going through. If you were that deeply affected, I couldn’t even imagine what it was like for them, wondering how their child had suffered before she died.” Claire turned to stare out the window. “A few weeks later, Ruby disappeared.”

Dave was quiet for a long time. “I worked on that case for weeks without any real leads or suspects. And then I got my hands on Renee’s diary. The last entry was the location and date of a private party that she had been hired to work. According to a witness, Renee was killed at that party by a cop named Clive Nettle. The other cops there that night helped cover it up.”

Claire stared at him in shock. “Why would they do that?”

“Self-preservation. If word had gotten out about a cop party involving teenage prostitutes, a lot of careers would have been ruined. Not to mention the fear of prosecution once Renee turned up dead.”

“How did you find out?”

“A deathbed confession of sorts. Someone who was there that night recently told me what happened.”

“If you know all this, why hasn’t Nettle been arrested?”

“I’m working on that.” Dave slowed as they came to an intersection, then made a right turn onto another two-lane road. A convenience store with gas pumps sat on the left side, and to the right was nothing but rice fields.

“I don’t understand what any of this has to do with Ruby’s kidnapping,” Claire said.

“It doesn’t. But I was made to think that it did.”

“How?”

“The ransom demand was that I destroy the last page of Renee Savaria’s diary.”

The truck tires thudded over the metal grid of a bridge, and Claire waited until they were across before she spoke. “Did you do it?”

His face looked pale in the dash lights. “Yeah, I did it.”

“You destroyed evidence that could have proved that girl was killed by a cop. Because of what you did, Nettle got away with murder.”

“That’s exactly right.” Dave’s voice was hard and cold and empty.

“And you did it for Ruby.” Claire’s lip started to tremble and she looked away from him.

“I would have done anything to bring her back, Claire. You have to know that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t. I was too afraid to tell anybody, and I wanted to spare you as much as I could. After it was over, I was too ashamed.”

“Ashamed of trying to save your daughter?”

“Ashamed of letting myself be duped. Ashamed of going against everything I believed in as a cop.”

“Is that why you resigned?”

“Partly, I guess. And partly because I just didn’t give a shit about anything. After Ruby disappeared, nothing made sense anymore. Not even you and me.”

C
laire laid her head against the back of the seat as she turned to stare out at the passing scenery. They crossed another bridge over a bayou, and she could see the reflection of the cypress trees in the water. The air blowing in through Dave’s open window was scented with honeysuckle and magnolias. Claire closed her eyes, his words echoing in her head.
After Ruby disappeared, nothing made sense anymore. Not even you and me.

“Where we’re going tonight has something to do with those phone calls seven years ago,” she said. “That’s why you were talking about Ruby earlier, isn’t it?”

“I shouldn’t have let you come with me,” he said. “What you see and hear in that cabin probably won’t sit too well on your conscience.”

She turned her head to look at him. “Meaning?”

“I’m going to do whatever is necessary to find out who made those calls.”

“Good.”

He shot her a surprised glance. “You may not think that later.”

She was silent for a moment. “What’s going to happen once we get to the cabin?”

“I told you, we’re meeting some people.”

“Who?”

“Titus for one.”

“Titus Birdsong? I didn’t even know the two of you were still friends.”

“He’s risking a lot by helping me out. I’m never going to be able to pay him back for this.”

“For what?” Claire asked worriedly. “You’re starting to scare me a little. What is it that you’re planning to do?”

“Only what I have to. Try to remember that.”

She shivered at his ominous tone. “Who else is there?”

“Clive Nettle.”

She stared at him in shock. “Clive Nettle is at the cabin?”

“Don’t worry,” Dave said. “In his present condition, he won’t pose much of a threat.”

“I’m not worried about that. It’s just that…now I think I understand what you meant when you said you were willing to do whatever was necessary to get at the truth.”

“And that scares you.”

“A little,” she admitted.

“Do you want to go back?”

She shook her head. “No.”

As they left the rice fields behind, the area became more wooded, and Claire saw the glimmer of another bayou through the trees. The longer they were on the road, the more apprehensive she became. Her stomach was in knots, her nerve endings vibrating like a plucked guitar string. And when she lifted her hand to her cheek, the skin on her face felt cold and clammy.

Dave made another turn, onto a dirt road, and she saw a light just ahead.

“That’s it,” he said, and a moment later, he pulled up next to a light-colored sedan and parked.

They both got out of the truck, and as they walked up to the cabin, Claire glanced around. They were in the middle of nowhere. The place was isolated and, except for the presence of the other car and the flicker of light in the broken window, appeared completely deserted.

Dave knocked once, then said in a low voice, “It’s me.”

The door was drawn open and a large silhouette filled the opening. Claire hadn’t seen Titus Birdsong in years, and it took her a moment to recognize him.

Light spilled out from the doorway and she could see him staring down at her. Quickly, he dropped his gun to his side. “Claire?”

“Hello, Titus.”

“Claire? What are you doing here?” His gaze shot to Dave.

“It’s okay. She knows about the phone calls and she knows we’ve got Nettle inside.”

Titus shook his head. “Don’t matter to me what she knows, she ain’t got no business being out here. This ain’t no place for a woman.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Titus, but you don’t need to protect me. I have a right to know who made those phone calls to Dave. Ruby was my daughter, too.”

For a moment Claire thought Titus was going to refuse to let her come in, but then he stepped back with a loud sigh. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he muttered to Dave.

Claire followed them inside, and for a moment, Dave blocked her view of the room. She had a brief impression of rough-hewn walls and bare floorboards, a rusted tin roof, and she could smell kerosene from the lamp that provided the light. Then Dave moved out of the way and she saw Clive Nettle.

He was almost as large as Titus, with close-cropped dark hair, black stubble and a scar that ran down the side of his face. He sat bound and gagged in a ladder-back chair, one eye nearly swollen shut and blood drying at his temple. His head lolled forward, chin on chest, and Claire thought at first that he was unconscious. Then he lifted his head and looked directly into her eyes.

A shudder ripped through Claire and she took a step back. She thought she’d been prepared, but the sight of that battered face turned her stomach. Nausea rose in her throat, and she pressed her hand to her mouth.

“You okay?” Dave asked. “Maybe you should wait outside.”

She shook her head, but it took her a moment to speak. “What did you do to him?”

“What I had to.”

“He’s…okay?”

“He’ll live. At least until he gets to Angola.”

Claire nodded, drawing a breath.

Dave walked over to Nettle and yanked the gag out of his mouth. “You weren’t very cooperative when I was here earlier. Let’s see if you’ve changed your tune now that you’ve had a little time to ponder your situation.”

“I already told you, I got nothing to say to you. And don’t think this won’t come back on both you assholes.” He nodded toward Titus. “Your career is over, you dumb shit. You chose the wrong side. And as for you…” He turned his head slowly to Dave. “You’re as good as dead.”

“Is that so? Because I feel pretty good at the moment. As a matter of fact, I’m liking my odds more and more these days. You, on the other hand…can’t say I’d want to be in your shoes when all this goes down.”

“Do I look worried?”

“You should be. You’re a pathetic excuse for a man, Nettle, much less a cop.”

“Up yours, pal. Last time I checked, I still have a badge and you don’t.”

“Tell me what happened that night with Renee. She tried to fight you off, didn’t she? Probably made her sick to her stomach just to look at you, let alone have you put your filthy hands on her.”

Nettle’s smile became a sneer as he glanced at Claire. “You know better than anyone what a man will risk for a little poon tang on the side, don’t you, Dave?”

Dave’s fist caught the cop squarely on the jaw, knocking the chair backward. It crashed into the wall, collapsed, and Nettle hit the floor with a loud thud. Dave bent over him and grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “You murdering bastard. I ought to finish you off right here and now.”

The chair was broken in several pieces around Nettle, but his hands and ankles were still bound. He tried to scoot away, but Dave dragged him back and clamped a hand around his throat, squeezed until the man’s face turned red and his eyes fluttered and rolled back in his head.

“Dave, for God’s sake!” Claire cried.

“Ease up, partner,” Titus said softly.

Dave released Nettle and straightened. “Maybe now you’re ready to talk.”

“Fuck you,” Nettle wheezed, and spat blood on the floor at Dave’s feet.

Dave leaned against the wall and folded his arms. He suddenly looked as comfortable and relaxed as a man chatting with a neighbor at a backyard barbecue. “Let me tell you how I see this all playing out, Nettle. JoJo Barone is going to finger you and every other cop who was there at that party the night you killed Renee. He’s a dying man, so he doesn’t have a lot to lose, and I seriously doubt he’ll want to spend the rest of his days worrying about how to pick up the soap in the shower without bending over. The D.A. leans on him hard enough, he’ll roll. We both know he will.”

“That’s it? That’s all you got? The word of a two-bit greaser like JoJo Barone?” Nettle laughed, a low, nasty sound that made Claire’s skin crawl.

“That’s all we need,” Dave said. “Because when JoJo starts naming names, you’re going to find out real fast who your friends are. Bobby Ray already sold you out. That’s why you’re here. My guess is, your old buddies in the department won’t be much different. When they get wind of what the D.A. has in mind, they’ll hightail it to the nearest attorney and try to cop a plea that’ll keep their asses out of prison. You don’t have that option. You’re going to do hard time, no question about that. But if you want to stay off death row, you better make your deal while you still have something to offer. And the only way to get to the D.A. is through me.”

Nettle laughed again. “Do I look that stupid to you? Lee Elliot wouldn’t give a guy like you the time of day, let alone buy into this drunkard’s fantasy you’re trying to peddle. Here’s a news flash, chief. Your cred’s kinda shaky these days.”

Dave shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to ask Elliot yourself when he gets here.”

“Oh, he’s on his way here, is he? You really are delusional. Kind of pathetic, really. I heard you were a pretty good cop before you turned into a lush. Now you sound just plain crazy. If you had anything on me, I’d be in lockup right now instead of cooling my heels out here with you two fucks.”

“Maybe Elliot wanted to make sure you’d stay alive long enough to give him a statement.”

Claire saw something flash in Nettle’s eyes.

“Think about it,” Dave said. “It’s an election year and this kind of case is a wet dream for an ambitious prosecutor like Lee Elliot. Murder. Conspiracy. Police corruption. He plays it just right, he could ride this horse all the way to the governor’s mansion. If you don’t cooperate, he’ll just move on down the line to the next guy on JoJo Barone’s list.”

“I still say this is nothing but one big bluff.”

“It’s not,” Claire said, and she felt Dave’s gaze on her as she took a step toward Nettle. “My sister is an assistant D.A. Her name is Charlotte LeBlanc. She was handpicked by Lee Elliot to be on his team. They’re very close. I can get her on the phone right now to verify everything Dave just told you.”

Dave straightened as he glanced at his watch. “Clock’s ticking, Nettle, so here’s the deal. You want to talk to Elliot, you’ll have to agree to my terms. Otherwise, when he gets here, he’ll find nothing but an empty cabin. A day or two from now, when he’s already made a deal with someone else, Titus here will march you into headquarters in handcuffs and leg irons. That won’t look so good on TV. That’s the kind of image that sticks in a prospective juror’s head.”

“No shit,” Titus said with a grin. “And no offense, but you ain’t exactly got what I’d call a sympathetic mug to begin with. You don’t want your veins pickled up there at the farm, you best hear the man out.”

“All you have to do is give me a name,” Dave said. “You tell me who placed those calls to my cell phone after my little girl disappeared, and you and me are done. You make your deal with Lee Elliot. I’ll stay out of it.”

Nettle turned his head and looked at Claire. “You sure you want her in here for this?”

“I’m not leaving,” she said, but her hands were sweaty and her heart had suddenly started to race.

He nodded toward Dave. “Why don’t you ask him why he brought you out here? I’m beginning to think this little dog-and-pony show he put together was just for your benefit.” He glanced up. “Ain’t that right, chief?”

“You’re a piece of shit, Nettle.”

The man laughed, his grinning face grotesque in the flickering lamplight. He cut his gaze back to Claire and lowered his voice. “You really want to know who made those phone calls?”

Claire nodded, her mouth suddenly so dry she couldn’t speak.

Nettle gave her a look that was half amused, half pitying. “It was your old man. Yeah, that’s right,” he said with a grin when Claire reacted. “Alex Girard made those calls. He thought it all up on his own. Said the kid was already dead, might as well use the kidnapping to our advantage.”

Claire felt as if she’d just been punched in the chest. She leaned against the wall, her breath suspended painfully in her lungs. And then her gaze went to Dave, and she could tell from the look on his face that Nettle was right. He’d already known about Alex. He just hadn’t had the guts to tell her himself.

Lee Elliot knew how to work a crowd, even the small group of cops that had gathered outside the cabin door to watch Clive Nettle’s perp walk to the nearest squad car. In his light-colored suit and silk tie, the Orleans Parish D.A. looked as if he’d just come from a Garden District soiree rather than a lengthy meeting with a cold-blooded killer. He had the charm and charisma of a natural-born politician, the breeding and manners of an old-fashioned Southern gentlemen, the lazy drawl of a pickup-truck redneck. In short, he was everything to everybody.

After Nettle was loaded into the back of the squad car, Elliot came over and clapped Titus on the back. Angelette was with him, but she didn’t say a word. She’d been keeping a low profile ever since she arrived. However, as she stood next to Elliot, Dave could feel her gaze, burning with its usual intensity.

“I appreciate that you boys wanted me out here to make sure everything went down by the book, but you would have made my job a lot easier if you hadn’t been quite so zealous in your pursuit of justice. Looks like you used Nettle for a punching bag. That won’t sit well with his defense attorney.”

“He resisted arrest,” Titus said.

“And you won’t have a problem swearing to that under oath, I don’t suppose.”

“No problem at all. You got a Bible on you, I’ll swear to it right now.”

“I don’t think we need to go that far.” Elliot’s gaze shifted to Dave. “And let me guess. You just happened to be in the neighborhood and offered your assistance.”

“Something like that.”

Elliot’s blue eyes twinkled in the flashing light from the nearest squad car. “You know, you’re a pretty impressive guy, Dave. I like how you operate. We could use a good investigator like you in the D.A.’s office. Have you ever thought about coming back to the force? The commissioner is a second cousin of mine. I could put in a good word for you.”

“Thanks, but I’ve burned too many bridges in New Orleans. I like it just fine where I am.”

“You ever change your mind, give me a call.”