The Dollmaker by Amanda Stevens Read Free Book Online Page B

I’m interested in one of your dolls.”
    His cultured voice sent another shiver up her spine. “Let me guess, you’ve come to see the latest Queen Tatiana collection.”
    “No, as a matter of fact, I’m interested in the Savannah Sweete in the window.”
    Ah, a collector. And one who knew his stuff. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she? Savannah Sweete is undoubtedly the most talented doll artist working today, but I suppose I could be a bit biased. She’s a native Louisianan and we do tend to brag on our own.”
    “How much is she?”
    “I’m sorry, she’s already sold.”
    One brow lifted. “Really? I would have assumed since you have her so prominently displayed—”
    “I haven’t had a chance to remove her from the window yet.”
    He sighed. “I don’t suppose you would consider another offer.”
    “No, I’m sorry. A deal is a deal. But I could show you something else. The Queen Tatiana—”
    “I’m only interested in the one doll.”
    Mignon gave him another apologetic smile. “Then I can’t help you.”
    She expected him to turn and leave, but instead he took a step toward her. Mignon saw something in his eyes then that the glasses had previously masked. A coldness that made her shiver.
    “You’ll have to excuse me,” she said. “I was just about to close up.”
    “I won’t keep you. If you could just tell me from whom you acquired the doll…?”
    Mignon frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t divulge that information. Now if you’ll please excuse me—”
    “Then perhaps you’d rather talk to the police.”
    The police? Oh, dear Lord…
    Her hand flew to her chest. “What do you mean?”
    “The doll was recently stolen from my private collection.”
    Mignon’s heart sank. She’d known something was fishy about the doll when the other man couldn’t produce the certificate of authenticity. She should have listened to her gut, because her greed and carelessness had brought this strange man to her shop. And now Mignon’s instincts were warning her again. But she wouldn’t let him see her fear. She somehow knew that would be a mistake.
    Her voice sharpened. “You can prove ownership? You have the certificate of authenticity or a receipt of some kind?”
    “I have something better than that.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a photograph of a child who bore a striking resemblance to the doll.
    Mignon’s eyes fastened on the picture. For a moment she couldn’t tear her gaze away, and her uneasiness faded. “What a beautiful child. Your daughter?”
    “A childhood friend.” His lips curled grotesquely, in a smile that made Mignon’s skin crawl. And his eyes…they were so…empty. They didn’t even look real.
    “I’m sorry,” she said, and was annoyed when she heard her voice tremble. “If the doll really does belong to you, then perhaps this is a matter for the police….”
    She trailed off when he whirled and headed for the door. He’d forgotten his picture, but Mignon didn’t call him back. She slipped the photograph into her pocket and kept silent, glad to be rid of him.
    But instead of leaving, he locked the door, drew the shade over the window and slowly turned back to face her.
    He was still smiling.
    Mignon backed away from him, but when she saw what he held in his hand, she spun and tried to run. He was so much younger and so much quicker, however. He grabbed her and pulled her roughly to him. She started to whimper.
    “Stop it! Stop that racket this instant, do you hear me?”
    Mignon nodded and swallowed a sob. “Don’t hurt me. Take the doll and whatever else you want, but please don’t hurt me.”
    “Hush, now,” he crooned as one hand feathered over her hair. “It’s okay.”
    His voice turned so soothing and liquid that for a moment Mignon wondered if he would let her go. Maybe he wouldn’t hurt her, after all. Maybe she would still be able to give little Piper her gifts.
    The needle sank into her neck, and almost immediately, her knees