Chapter 7

The porch splintered. The whole shop shuddered. A window cracked in the front door and cold air screamed in. Poppy threw herself against me. Verne dropped the broom and ran for the back.

“Stay behind the counter,” I yelled.

The truck reversed. Its tires spun on the icy gravel. Then it came again. The second hit took the door off its hinges. It fell flat on the floor, and Derek’s truck sat in the doorway with snow blowing around it. The engine roared. He was stuck. He had wedged the bumper into the frame.

I grabbed Poppy and pulled her down the aisle between the minnow tanks. The tank room was in the back, where he kept the drugs. The wall rack was there. Gaff hooks, nets, a filet knife. I took the gaff hook. Thirty-two inches, wooden handle, steel hook. It was for landing pike. It would work.

Derek killed the engine. I heard the door open. He was cursing. His boots hit the floor. He moved through the shop like he owned it because he did. He had built the shelves. He had wired the lights. He knew every corner.

“Emmie.”

Poppy was shaking. I pushed her behind the minnow tank and put my finger to my lips. She nodded.

“You’re making this worse,” Derek called. “You think a deputy is going to believe you? You’re the one who left the house. You’re the one who took her.”

“You shoved me on the ice.”

“I didn’t shove you. You fell.”

“You said the baby would be better off if I drowned.”

“I was upset.”

“You kicked a phone into the lake.”

“A phone you stole.”

“A phone with pictures of a kidnapped child.”

He laughed. “She’s not kidnapped. Her mother gave her to me.”

“Her mother gave her to you to hide from Kyle. Not to sell to Bo.”

“Bo is a businessman.”

“Bo is a drug dealer.”

“You don’t know anything.”

I stepped into the aisle. The gaff hook was in my good hand. My cut hand was wrapped in a towel from the minnow tank. The floor was wet and slick. The tank room light flickered.

Derek came around the corner. He was wet to the chest. His lips were blue. His knife was in his hand.

“Put it down,” he said.

“You first.”

“You’re not going to use that.”

“I used a spud bar tonight. I can use this.”

He looked at me. For the first time, he looked at me like I was a person he didn’t know. Not his wife. Not the quiet girl behind the counter. Someone else.

“You think this ends with me in jail?” he said. “You think they’ll take your side? You’re nobody. You’re a bait-shop girl with a diary full of complaints. I’m the man who plows the road.”

“You’re the man who sold his niece.”

“I’m the man who kept her alive.”

“You kept her in a shanty.”

“For three weeks. I fed her. I bought her clothes. I kept Kyle from finding her.”

“And then you sold her.”

He shifted the knife. “I had to.”

“You had to give Bo my baby?”

“Dani wanted a baby. You were going to have one. It made sense.”

“It made sense to you.”

“Yes.”

Poppy stood up from behind the tank. I didn’t see her move. She was just there, in the aisle, small and white-faced in the horse blanket.

“Uncle D,” she said.

Derek’s face changed. The knife dropped a little. “Poppy, go sit down.”

“You said Mama gave me away.”

“Your mama is sick.”

“You said I was going to live with a man.”

“It’s just for a little while.”

“You said the water was loud.”

“Poppy-”

She picked up the minnow bucket and threw it at him. It hit him in the chest. Water and minnows splashed across the floor. He slipped. Just a little. Just enough.

I swung the gaff hook. I didn’t aim for his head. I aimed for his leg. The hook went into his thigh, above the knee, and he screamed. The knife clattered away. He went down on one knee, then on his face. The minnows flopped around him.

Verne was at the front door. She had a phone in her hand. The pay phone receiver.

“I called 911,” she said. “They’re here.”

Blue lights flooded the broken doorway.