Amanda Stevens - The Dollmaker

“He should be.”

“Don’t you even want to know what kind of charges he could be facing?”

Claire walked over to the window, glanced out, then turned back to Charlotte. “Right now, I don’t really care what happens to him.”

“That doesn’t sound like you. You’ve always been the most forgiving person I know.”

“Forgiving?” She gave a bitter laugh. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do. I’m capable of carrying around hate and anger for years. Just ask Dave.”

“You’ve forgiven him now, though, haven’t you?”

Claire glanced back out at the street. “I don’t know. I’m not sure what I feel for Dave these days.”

Charlotte came over to stand beside her at the window. “Sometimes I think you’re still in love with him. You’re just too afraid to admit it.”

“Maybe I am. Maybe I always will be. But it’s not enough. Not with Dave. Being with him is too hard. It’s like waiting for a bomb to go off. You know disaster is coming and so you constantly brace yourself for it. You go through each day with your stomach in knots, expecting the worst. I don’t know why anybody would want to go back to that.”

“Maybe because he’s changed,” Charlotte said softly. “And maybe because you’ve never been happy without him.”

A little while later, Charlotte sent Claire upstairs for a long, hot shower while she went into the kitchen to see about dinner. By the time Claire came back down, she could smell spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove. She poked her head into the kitchen to see if she could help. Charlotte stood at the sink, washing greens for a salad.

“I’ve got everything under control. You just go sit down and relax.” When she didn’t hear the door close, Charlotte glanced over her shoulder. “You do remember how to relax, don’t you?”

“Vaguely.”

Claire was still standing there watching her when Charlotte turned from the sink. “What?”

She shook her head. “I still can’t figure you out. First you take up for Dave, and now this. I can’t help thinking something’s going on with you.”

“I didn’t exactly take up for Dave. I said it’s possible that he might have changed.” Charlotte wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “I’m just trying to do something nice for you. Don’t make me regret it.”

Claire smiled. “Now that sounds more like you.”

She poured Claire a glass of wine, put it in her hand and gave her a little push toward the living room. “Go away, you’re making me nervous. I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.”

There was nothing for Claire to do but sit down and put her feet up. She closed her eyes and might have drifted off if the phone hadn’t rung.

“I’ll get it,” Charlotte called from the kitchen.

A moment later, she came through the doorway, palming the receiver. “Do you know someone named Savannah Sweete?”

Claire sat up, her fatigue suddenly forgotten, and reached for the phone. “This is Claire,” she said anxiously.

“I hope I’m not calling at a bad time,” the woman drawled. “But I’ve come across something that I thought you should know about.”

“What is it?”

“It may not be anything of consequence, so I don’t want you to get your hopes up. But after you left this morning, I kept thinking about that picture of your daughter. I couldn’t get her little face out of my mind, and I started to wonder if maybe I had seen her before. Or at least her photograph. So I called my nephew and had him bring over some of the file boxes I told you about. I’ve been sitting here going through them all day, and I finally found something you might find helpful. It’s a photograph of a little blond girl.”

“Is it Ruby?”

“It looks an awful lot like that picture you showed me this morning, but I can’t be certain. I think it would be best if you came out here and took a look at it yourself. I tried calling Mr. Creasy at the number he left, but there’s no answer.”

“I’m glad you called me,” Claire said. “When can I come see this picture?”

“How about tomorrow morning?”

Her grip on the phone tightened. “I don’t mean to sound pushy, but could I come this evening? I really don’t want to wait until morning.”

“Are you sure you want to make such a long drive this late in the day?”

“I’m only an hour away,” Claire said. “I really would like to come now. If I don’t, I’ll be worried about that photograph all night.”

“I understand. You just come on then. I’ll be here waiting for you.”

“Thanks. And thank you so much for going through those files so quickly. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Oh, it was nothing. I was happy to do it,” she said. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

Charlotte had stood there listening the whole time, and as Claire set the phone aside, she said curiously, “Who on earth is Savannah Sweete?”

“You’ve never heard Mama mention her? She’s a doll maker who lives over in Terrebonne Parish. It’s possible she may have made the doll I saw in the shop window last week. She’s gone through some of her files, and she thinks she may have found a picture of Ruby.”

“That’s great, I guess. But why not wait until morning to drive down there?”

“Because I waited to go back to the collectibles shop after I saw the doll, remember? It was gone by the time I got back. I’m not taking a chance like that again.”

“What about dinner?”

Claire grabbed her purse and keys. “Save it for me. If I leave now, I can be back by dark.”

Charlotte followed her out to the porch. “You want me to come with you?”

“No, you stay. If Dave gets her message, he may call here. You can tell him that I’ve already gone down there to look at the picture.”

“Okay, but Claire…”

She turned at the bottom of the steps. Charlotte stood on the porch, staring down at her.

“Be careful, okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Savannah Sweete is a perfectly lovely woman. There’s really no need to worry about me at all.”

The phone rang while Charlotte was putting the spaghetti sauce away. She cradled the receiver against her shoulder as she sealed the lid on the storage container and opened the refrigerator door.

“Claire?”

“No, this is Charlotte. Who’s this?”

“Dave Creasy. Could I speak to Claire, please?”

Charlotte couldn’t blame him for his guarded tone. She hadn’t exactly been cordial the last few times she’d seen him. “Claire isn’t here, but she said you might call if you got Savannah Sweete’s message.”

“What message?”

“She phoned here earlier and said that she’d found a photo of Ruby. Or at least, she thinks it could be Ruby. I guess she tried to get in touch with you first. Anyway, Claire wanted you to know that she’s on her way down there to look at the photograph.”

“She’s on her way there now? ”

Charlotte frowned at his tone. “She left a few minutes ago. Is something wrong?”

Dave hesitated. “I’m not sure. I found out some things today that concern me a little. I don’t know yet if there’s a connection to Savannah Sweete, but I’d rather Claire not go down there alone.”

“What is going on?” Charlotte demanded. “You’re making me very nervous.”

His hesitation was slight, but enough to put her on alert. “It’s probably nothing. I’ll head down that way myself, but I just left Baton Rouge. I’m at least an hour and a half away, and that’s without traffic.”

“Claire just left fifteen minutes ago, determined to find out about that doll. If I can’t reach her by phone, I’ll try to catch up with her on the road. Do you have directions to this place?”