Amanda Stevens - The Dollmaker

“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.”

Claire 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.”