“Boy has feelings for you.”
“He told you that?”
“Didn’t need to tell me. I got eyes. I can see.”
So could Mia, and right then, what she saw was complete confusion in her mind…And no Billy in his chair.
She stopped short. “Desdemona?”
“Boy’s got feelings. That’s all I’m gonna say. You want more, you ask the horse’s mouth.”
Mia made a visual sweep. “The rocking chair’s empty.” She stared at it. “Why is the rocking chair empty? Where’s Billy?”
Desdemona flapped a dismissing hand. “Oh that Billy, he left on some adventure or other a few days back.”
Only Mia’s eyes rose. “Billy’s a doll. How could he leave?”
“How could I have one son who’s slick as spit and two others who don’t got a single slick thought between them? Life’s got its funny ways.”
Was that supposed to be an answer? Mia looked back down at the empty rocker. “I saw…I thought I saw Billy’s face, in a mirror, in Madeleine’s shack, in the swamp.”
Desdemona nodded. “Billy, he likes swamps. Snakes don’t scare him none, though he’s a bit more cautious when it comes to alligators.”
“Desdemona, Billy is a doll. Dolls don’t just get up and walk out of a shop.”
“Most dolls don’t,” she agreed. “Take Lila over there. She’s the little lady with the green bow in her hair. Now she couldn’t walk if someone lit fire to her dress. And to be truthful, I can’t say Billy actually walked himself out of here. Most likely, he got transported.”
“You mean someone took him out?”
“In a sense, yes, you could say someone took him. Me, I prefer the word ‘transported.’”
“It’s the same thing…” Mia gave her head a slow shake. “It isn’t the same, is it?”
Desdemona gave her a meaningful wink. “That would depend on who did the transporting.”
Definite Twilight Zone moment, Mia decided and shook her head again. “This is the most confusing conversation I’ve ever had. And it would be about a missing doll.”
A doll whose face she’d glimpsed three times in a mirror, in a dead woman’s shack.
Not going there again, she promised herself. Billy was gone, and Desdemona was spooky. There’d been spooky people in Bayou Mystère where she’d grown up, and she hadn’t given their quirks a second thought. Tipping her lips into a smile, she asked, “Where’s Ryder?”
“Out back, making a phone call. To a man he called Pig. No, no.” Desdemona pressed a finger to her mouth. “Hogg. That was it. Deputy Sheriff Hogg.”
“From-the-diner Hogg?” Mia considered that. “Well, Ryder did leave his truck there.” Along with the tracking device Despar had attached to it in New Orleans, she sincerely hoped. “The killer found us at Madeleine’s shack, though,” she said. “He might have followed us visually, but then again…” Her eyes traveled past Desdemona to the rear of the shop. “Maybe he didn’t.” She blew out an aggravated breath. “Damn. Why do I make any assumptions where that man’s concerned?”
“Love’s a tricky business, for sure.” Taking Mia’s chin in her hand, Desdemona inspected her face. “I see storm clouds in those pretty eyes of yours. You’re as befuddled inside as he is. Could be that’s partly why Billy up and left.”
Mia’s brain was starting to hurt. “Billy the doll left your shop because Ryder and I are befuddled? Is that supposed to make sense?”
The older woman pinched her chin, before releasing it with a jingle of bracelets. “Can’t say as I know most times what’s in Billy’s head, but I know how the person whose hands, heart and mind made him used to think.”
As hot and muggy as it was, a chill crawled over Mia’s flesh. “You didn’t make him?”
When Desdemona chuckled, the chill chased itself to the base of Mia’s spine. “Lordy, no,” she said. “I made Lila. Billy, he was born right after Madeleine first came to understand she had the sight. It was Madeleine gave Billy life, Mia. And you can bet yours, his leaving’s got something to do with taking care of whatever it was ended hers.”
* * *
“She’s not crazy.” Ryder boosted Mia into Deputy Sheriff Hogg’s truck. “Opinionated, stubborn and off-the-wall, yes, but she’s sane enough.”
“The ridiculous thing is, I believe you. And her.” Mia buckled up. She waited for him to climb in before she asked, “Why did you call Hogg?”
For an answer, he swept his gaze around the truck’s interior.
“I realize this is his vehicle, Ryder, but I saw your face when you came to get me in the antique store. Tension’s practically oozing from your pores, and it smells like cop tension to me.”
“If I told you it was and asked you to trust me, would you?”
“I might.” And slanting him a sideways look, she left it at that.
He drove in a straight line this time, back toward the diner, but pulled over before they got there near a road marked with a faded out sign that read Okee Waters.
“Sounds like a country singer,” Mia remarked.
“They were from Oklahoma,” Ryder said.
“Who were?”
“Bud and Tina.”
“We want to find Bud and Tina?”
“If we can, yeah. Hogg said they were heading this way when they drove through town. That was after the thieves had been arrested and we’d left. He hasn’t seen them since.”
“Why would he have seen them?” Mia tugged off her jacket to combat the swiftly rising temperature. “They’re on vacation in a camper. They were just passing through. Bud admitted to us that they were lost.”
“My guess is, after they left the diner, they wanted to get a lot more lost.”
“If it’s any consolation, I’m totally lost.” She laid her jacket on the backseat, straightened her purple top. “Why do we care where they went after the diner? Unless you’re thinking the killer hitched a ride with them.”
“Not hitched a ride.” He swung the truck onto the rutted side road. “But it’s a good bet he followed them.”
Resigned, Mia let her head fall onto the seat rest. “I swear to God, my life has descended into a state of total chaos. Any time you want to lose the riddles and explain, please feel free.”
He hit a large dip and slowed the truck to a crawl. “Do you remember stopping for gas after we left the diner?”
“Yes.”
“I found another tracking device while I was filling the tank.”
Her head shot up. “Where?”
“Under the front fender, my side. Bud gave the tire a slap, said something pointless about the tread. I thought about it, decided to stop and—pay dirt.”
She ticked a considering finger. “So Bud was working for…Ah, no, the killer made him do it.”
“We know he got out of the swamp alive. He was probably holding a gun on Tina. Bud either planted the device or the killer was going to plant Tina. Six feet under.”
“But you believe he let them go.”
“I do, yeah.”
“And after he did, you think they came here. To Okee Waters.”
“I’m playing a hunch, Mia. Some people believe familiar is safe. Okee Waters is a town with a familiar sound to it. A safe-sounding town might have seemed like a safe haven to Bud.”
“You’d also think a state trooper was a haven of sorts, but as we’ve discovered, that’s not necessarily the case.” Pushing forward, she peered through the brush. “There’s a vehicle in the trees. Take that road, the one on your left.”
“Mia, what we’re on can barely be called a road.” The rear tires slammed into a deep hole. “What you’re talking about is a wagon trail.”
But he slowed and eased onto it. A hundred bone-jarring yards later, they bounced to a halt behind a sprawling live oak.
“Okay, that wasn’t fun.” Mia pried her fingers from the dash. “Calling Hogg’s got my vote, but I know it’s not an option, so—guns? And, fine, you lead the way.” At his narrow
ed look, she shrugged. “Scary isn’t it, how good I’m getting at this cloak-and-dagger stuff?”
“Very.”
Faster than she could blink, his mouth was on hers, robbing thought, stealing breath and making her wish quite badly that daylight would give way to twilight; the fireflies would come out and they could strip down and make hot, sweaty love in the cab of the old Dodge truck.
Unfortunately…
Releasing her slowly, Ryder slid his thumb under her lower lip. She supposed he was smiling at her bemused expression. Or maybe because she hadn’t slapped him.
God help her, slapping him was the furthest thing from Mia’s mind right then. Unfortunately, life was all about timing, and there were no fireflies to enhance the moment.
That didn’t mean the swamp was silent. Insects, birds and reptiles buzzed, sang and croaked all around them. The air was steamy and smelled like stagnant water. Nothing of civilization lived here. Clamping down on her jumbled feelings, Mia hopped out carefully and watched for snakes.
“If hell has chambers, this is where the bugs come to feed.” Ryder made sure she stayed behind him. “No wonder you moved to New Orleans.” He gestured with his Glock. “Rear door’s ajar.”
It was Bud and Tina’s camper, though. She recognized the Oklahoma plates. She nudged Ryder’s back. “Why are we creeping? The killer won’t be hanging out inside.”
“And we know that because?”
“It would be stupid and pointless and…hmm.” She rethought the remark. “I suppose he could have been injured in last night’s fall. But why would he come looking for Bud and Tina? Why would he think we’d come looking for them?”
“Mia, we are looking for them.”
“Yes, but he’d be playing an awfully wild hunch thinking that.”
“Remind me to give you a lesson in criminal logic sometime. No eye witnesses, remember? For now,” he said, holding her back with his good arm, “stand clear while I get the door.”
On three, he kicked it open and brought his gun down.
She didn’t know what to expect, but nothing happened. No shots rang out. No one screamed. Bud didn’t shout, and if Tina was whimpering, she was doing so in silence.
“Bud?” Ryder called. “Tina?”
No one answered.
Mia searched the clearing. “Maybe they’re—” She stopped short. “Uh, Ryder?”
“I’ll check inside. You wait here.”
Catching his shirt firmly in her fingers, she directed his eyes down. “There. Look right there, and please tell me that isn’t the toe of a man’s sneaker.”
Ryder’s curse killed that small hope and had Mia’s heart sinking into her stomach. “This guy’s sick,” she whispered. “He’s totally sick.”
Crouching, Ryder flattened the coarse grass with the barrel of his gun. “They’re both here. I’d say they’ve been dead for a few days. He let them go so he could kill them where they wouldn’t be found in a hurry. Wind’s blowing the wrong way, otherwise we’d have smelled them.”
She fought the nausea that rolled through her. “We need to contact Hogg.”
“Yeah. We also need to get the hell out of here.” Standing upright, Ryder grabbed her hand. “Something’s moving, Mia, and it isn’t Bud or Tina.”
Mia glanced back as they ran. Less than a foot from where she’d been standing, a thick, spiny tail disappeared under the van.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ryder’s mind clicked into lockdown mode while the bodies and the alligator were removed from the scene. It was his last wall of defense against the guilt that was doing its level best to grind him into dust.
He and Mia had to spend the night in town, but on the very narrow plus side, his truck was up and running, thanks to Deputy Sheriff Hogg.
“This is so horrible,” Mia sighed the next day. “Those poor, poor people. I feel like I caused this to happen.”
“Don’t,” Ryder said. “If anyone’s responsible, it’s me. You, Bud and Tina were all innocent bystanders.”
“So were Helene and Madeleine.” She rapped his knee. “Sometimes even cops act on emotion and shut logic out of the picture.” Smiling a little, she shrugged. “I’ve been thinking.”
“So I see.”
They listened to mournful Billie Holiday songs, which felt appropriate given the tragedy they’d left in their wake. Overall, Ryder didn’t project a long drive for the day. With an unpromising weather forecast, he figured a stopover in Blackwater was their best bet. That, and he wasn’t eager to place Mia’s safety in another man’s hands.
“At least tell me we won’t be sleeping at the Honey Tree,” she said when he mentioned the name of the town, “because I’ve had as much of Bo and his pseudo swamp witch as I can take.”
“Ditto.” Hoping to divert her, Ryder asked, “What happened to your gris-gris?” As he spoke, he regarded the massing black clouds above.
“It’s here.” She flexed her right foot. “My grandmother says inside a boot’s the best place to wear a voodoo charm.”
“What does Desdemona say?”
“That Billy left the antique shop about the same time we did four or five days ago.” She leaned forward. “There’s a wicked storm brewing, Ryder.”
He glanced at the clouds again. “Where do you get wicked?”
“I can smell the ozone. The air’s hot, it feels wet, and as I recall, the Honey Tree has no AC.”
“It’s either the Honey Tree or Milo’s campsite. Blackwater doesn’t boast a Holiday Inn. It’s one night, Mia. We eat, sleep and leave for New Orleans tomorrow morning.”
When she lifted the hair from her neck, the muscles in his lower body tightened. Really did not need temptation added into an already explosive mix.
“Have you contacted Crucible yet?” she asked. His expression must have answered the question, because she chuckled. “Don’t sweat it, Lieutenant. I’m sure the fact that I’m alive and have now seen the killer’s entire face will count in your favor.”
“If you think that, you met Crucible’s easygoing twin.”
When she let her hair fall around shoulders bared by a pale blue halter top, he reminded himself that if he stopped looking he might stop reacting. Stop looking, stop thinking, stop breathing.
As if reading his mind, Mia’s lips quirked, but she watched the road ahead. “Tell Crucible I’ll sic Billy on him if he gives you any grief. Better yet, threaten him with Desdemona. Twenty minutes in her company, and he’ll be convinced dolls can walk, talk and avenge murders.” The first peal of thunder rumbled through the darkening sky. “And there it is. Wicked storm preamble. Perfect timing, too, because I can see the Honey Tree. And lucky us, I only count three vehicles in the parking lot.”
Ryder didn’t know how lucky that was, but given their limited options, he pulled up, hauled their packs from the back and motioned her inside.
The place smelled the same as before. Moonshine bubbled somewhere close by, and whatever was cooking in the kitchen had surely been caught in the swamp. Three men huddled around a table on the side wall. Two more sat at the bar. Ryder thought it might be Reba’s voice coming out of the crappy corner jukebox.
The ponytailed bartender held up an empty beer glass. At Ryder’s nod, he filled a pair and brought them over.
“Where’s the crowd?” Mia asked as more thunder rolled through the sky.
The man’s lip curled. “Regulars got spooked away by dumbass Bo.”
“Would that be Bo with four teeth and a brain the size of a pistachio?”
“That’s him.” He studied her. “Do I know y’all?”
“We came through town a while back,” Ryder said. “Tell us more about dumbass Bo.”
“He’s got some wild hare going on about the swamp witch rising from her grave. Gonna curse us all, he says. Bull, I says, but folks around here get fidgety when it comes to local legends. Ghost hunters been crawling out of the woodwork, coming in every night lately. Don’t drink squat, just wander around acting creepy.�
��
“Has anyone seen Bo’s swamp witch again?” Mia asked him.
“Ain’t no one ever saw her to start with, so sure as hell no one’s gonna see her now. She’s dead.” He made a rude sound. “White eyes, old as the dirt she was planted in more’n a hundred years ago—I should knock the rest of Bo’s teeth out for dropping that load in here.”
“Business’ll pick up again.” Ryder took his pack and Mia’s hand. “We’ll need a room for the night.”
“Food and drink, too?”
“We’ll finish the beer and order dinner later.”
“Witching hour’s when the freaks appear, if you’re interested. I’ll get you a key. It’s the second door along.”
“Thanks.” Mia waited until he was gone to sigh. “Why do I feel like his business problems are our fault, too? I mean, it isn’t as if we invited that old woman to come here and creep us out.” She bit her lip. “But you know—”
“We don’t know, Mia.” Ryder cut her off. “And it wouldn’t matter if we did.”
“Ryder, we started this. Whoever that woman is or was, she talked to us, and we talked to Bo.”
“Who opened his dumbass mouth and freaked out a bunch of freak-out-able people. Look, it’s been a long day, and I want a shower. I also want to get you back to New Orleans alive. Picture Bud and Tina, and drink your beer.”
Razor-thin streaks of lightning shot through the sky. Thunder followed, rattling the walls and floor of the bar.
“Crazy night coming,” Mia predicted again.
“Custom-made for another swamp-witch encounter?” Ryder shrugged at her narrowed eyes. “Sorry. Bad joke. You know I don’t believe.”
“Neither do I.” She finished her beer in a long swallow he couldn’t help but admire and handed him her glass. “The problem is, stuff keeps happening in spite of what we do or don’t believe. Bo’s swamp witch is a perfect example. Whoever she is, she’s right behind you, Ryder, in the doorway. And she’s motioning us outside.”
* * *
The old woman turned and left while Mia set her glass down and Ryder’s features assumed a grim cast.
“Bear in mind, she’s a harmless eccentric,” Mia said as they started for the door. “With cataracts. This situation is only as bizarre as we make it.”
Shivers Box Set: Darkening Around MeLegacy of DarknessThe Devil's EyeBlack Rose (Shivers (Harlequin E)) Page 57