So you got out of your car and beat on their front door until the poor woman became so frightened she called the cops. If I hadn’t gotten wind of the situation, you would have been hauled in and booked.”
Claire listened to everything he said, and then she shrugged. “I don’t care what you think, this is different. I know what I saw.”
He shook his head, at a loss. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know how to help you.”
“You could try believing me.”
“That’s the one thing I can’t do. I can’t feed this obsession of yours, Claire. I won’t. Because I know how it’s going to turn out. You’ll get yourself all worked up again and then your heart’s going to be ripped open like it always is. I’ve seen it happen over and over, and this time won’t be any different. It’s been seven years. Seven damn years. You can’t spend the rest of your life grieving like this. You have to find a way to get over what happened.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he walked toward the window. “I don’t know, maybe you need to see someone.”
“I’ve been to a therapist. It didn’t solve anything.”
“Then maybe you need to find a different one. You have to do something.”
“I’m not crazy, Alex.”
“You will be if you keep this up. I don’t want you ending up like your old man.”
She gasped. “I would never do that!”
“I don’t want to believe it, either, but sometimes I have to wonder.” He stared out at the weather, his frustration collecting on his face like raindrops on the windowsill. “I see divorces in the department all the time. They’re as common as dirt. Cops just can’t seem to stay married. But most of the time it’s because of another woman or the lousy pay or because the wife gets sick of her man rolling around in the gutter before he comes home to her.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “But none of those things were ever our problem, were they? What did us in was that what you had was never going to be as important as what you lost.”
“That’s not fair,” she said. “My daughter was kidnapped. That’s not something you ever get over.”
“I’m not talking about Ruby.”
The nerves in Claire’s stomach tightened and she closed her eyes briefly. “Don’t say it.”
His face went white with suppressed fury. “You mean I’m not even allowed to mention the son of a bitch’s name? Well, I don’t know why that should surprise me. From the moment he showed up on your doorstep the night we got married, I never stood a chance, did I, Claire?”
“That’s not true. Our problems had nothing to do with him. I haven’t even seen him in years.”
“When’s the last time you dreamed about him?”
She looked away, silent.
“You can’t even deny it, can you?” Alex scrubbed a hand down his face and drew a long breath. “Believe it or not, I didn’t come over here to start something with you, Claire. I just want to help you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Then let me go,” she whispered.
“I wish I knew how to do that. I really do.”
Six
The child was enchanted by the dolls.
And the Dollmaker was enchanted by her.
Earlier, when he first got back from the city, he’d prepared a dinner tray and brought it down to the studio, deliberately leaving her door open to see if she would venture out. Then he’d gone over to his worktable, where he’d mounted a mirror on the wall so that he could watch the room behind him as he pretended to sketch.
After a few moments, he saw her hovering in the doorway. She was such a slight child. Waiflike, with her long, wavy hair and big brown eyes. He couldn’t take his own eyes off her.
She remained in the doorway, her gaze darting about the studio as she searched for a way out. His workbench was against the far wall, and the mirror was slanted in such a way that he could watch her discreetly. She didn’t see him at first as she took a tentative step into the room, her head turning first one way and then the other.
When she spotted him, her eyes widened and she started to retreat back into her dim little room. But she must have noticed that his back was to her, and her gaze flew to the outside door. She paused, as if trying to gauge the distance, and then, casting another furtive glance in his direction, she hurried over and twisted the knob.
The door was locked, of course. He’d made certain of that.
She tried the knob several times before finally giving up. Turning, she looked back at him, not knowing what to do.
He couldn’t get over how tiny she was. Much smaller at seven than Maddy had been. She wore blue jeans with elastic in the waist and a little yellow T-shirt with a mermaid on the front.
Her clothes were all wrong. Too casual for a little girl’s birthday party, but that didn’t matter. He would make her a new dress, something pink and frilly and utterly feminine. What mattered to him now were her features. The upturned nose, the heart-shaped mouth, the exquisite cheekbones. She was perfect. Or at least she would be very soon.
Several moments went by before the child saw the dolls. And then, for just a split second, the fear left her face and her brown eyes lit with wonderment. He couldn’t blame her. They
Dressed in their finest, they were seated around a small, rectangular table, one at the end and two on either side. At the far end, the sixth chair stood empty. For now.
The Dollmaker had set the table with Maddy’s best tea set, and he’d made her favorite cake with strawberry icing. Her presents were piled on either side of her chair, as if waiting for tiny fingers to rip off the colorful bows and tear away the tissue paper.
The child stood transfixed by the scene. Her expression was rapt, and he swiveled around to watch her, but the movement startled her and she backed away.
“No, don’t go,” he said softly. “They’ve been waiting for you.”
Sliding off his stool, he walked over to the little table and knelt beside the doll with the turquoise eyes.
“This is Maddy. Today is her birthday.”
The little girl said nothing, but she didn’t try to run away. She was captivated by the dolls.
He went around the table and made the introductions, and when he finished, he motioned to the empty chair at the end. “Come join the party.”
The child shook her head. “I want to call my mama.”
“In a little while perhaps.”
“I want to go home.”
He sighed, his shoulders sagging dejectedly. “Please don’t be tiresome about this. Remember what happened the last time?”
The little girl flinched as fear crept back into her eyes, and her bottom lip trembled. Slowly she nodded.
“Then come sit down and have some cake.”
She walked over to the table and sat down at the empty space. A tear spilled over and ran down her cheek. She scrubbed it away with her knuckles.
“You’ll feel better after you eat.” He cut a piece of the strawberry cake and placed it on the table in front of her. Then he cut pieces for everyone at the table and one for himself. He sat cross-legged on the floor and ate, his gaze never leaving the child’s face.
At that moment he felt happier than he had in a long time. All that business in New Orleans was behind him now. Maddy was home safe and sound, and all was well in the private little world he’d created.
In spite of her tears, the child’s company made him almost euphoric. He loved having her companionship. He always did. But he couldn’t keep her here much longer. Once the doll was finished, he would have to send her away.
He wouldn’t worry about that now, though. He didn’t want to spoil the party. Besides, even after she was
