The Dollmake (The Forgotten Files 2)

“You mean me?”

“DNA will rule you out.”

Madison balled up his fists. “I’m not some fucking monster!”

“I’m not arresting you. I’m asking you to come to the station with me and answer a few questions. I need help solving this case.”

Madison shook his head. “I’ll meet you downtown as soon as I get ahold of my attorney.”

Sharp chewed on two or three choice words before nodding. “I’ll wait while you call.”

When Tessa didn’t come home by seven as the Dollmaker had expected, he backtracked to her office, where he found her car. Her routine was still new and remained unpredictable, so it was important he kept a close eye on her so he could figure out her pattern. Watching and planning for his next doll offered him a thrill as tantalizing as the transformation process.

He sat for another thirty minutes, waiting and watching. To calm his nerves, he dug a small sketchbook from his glove box and sketched her face. At first he drew her as she was. Pretty, in an ordinary sort of way. And then he reimagined her new face on the opposite page. He made her face appear more round. He thinned and arched the brows. He stippled her cheeks with freckles. Transformed her lips into a heart shape. She would be so pretty. He was rock hard with anticipation.

When the office door opened and she exited, he closed the book and sat straighter. A breeze teased her hair as she walked toward her car. So beautiful. So sweet.

He reached for the handle of his door, wondering if he could make some kind of contact with her. He wouldn’t take her now. He would just talk to her. Say hello. He was sure she wouldn’t be afraid of him. Just then, a city police patrol car pulled up. She waved to the officer, who remained stationed near her car while she got into her vehicle and locked the door.

Annoyance bubbled before he chased it away. He could yield to frustration, or he could simply focus on the prize. He’d get his Serenity soon. Very soon.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Tuesday, October 11, 9:30 a.m.

It had been a frustrating night with Madison. The man had lawyered up immediately and was released within the hour. Madison had refused to answer any questions or give DNA. However, Sharp had given him coffee in a paper cup, and when Madison left it behind, Sharp had collected it and sent it for testing. He’d know within a day or two if the DNA was a match.

Now Sharp stood outside the funeral home staring at the large collection of mourners. Terrance Raymond Dillon had been eighteen, but the loss of his life touched hundreds of people. Today’s showing was far different than Roger’s final send-off.

He watched countless mourners stream into the simple building. He didn’t always make it to the funerals of his homicide victims, but when they were young, he did his best to attend. He was here searching for a killer, and he was also saying good-bye again to Kara.

As he stepped on the curb, he spotted Tessa. She wore her hair loose around her shoulders. Dress-up hair, as she’d once said. Her dress was simple and black, but it skimmed her slim body, reminding him of how much he enjoyed her shape. Dark heels, another rarity for her, made her long legs look even more beautiful. She stood with her hands tightly clasping her purse. Dark glasses covered her eyes.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“You said you were going to be here, and I wanted to come as well.” She checked her watch. “I knew you’d be early.”

He glanced around to make sure no one was listening and lowered his voice as he took her elbow in hand. “You used to lecture me about coming to these. Said it wasn’t healthy.”

“Well, now I’m not lecturing. Now I’m walking a mile in your shoes and am here to lend my powers of observation. I’m all eyes and ears, Agent Sharp.”

“You don’t need to be here.”

Her smile was bright. “Well, let’s go inside.”

He muttered a curse.

“Who should I be looking for?” she asked, already scanning the crowd.

He guided her toward the door. “You don’t look for anyone. That’s my job.”

“Today, it’s also my job.”

She’d never been one to argue, but when she dug in her heels, no amount of persuasion made her change course. She was back in his life. And like it or not, seemed determined to stay. “Focus on the funeral.”

Tessa drew in a breath. “What was it you said? Killers return out of genuine grief, and some also want to savor the pain they’ve caused.”

“Something like that.” He pulled off his sunglasses. “I found Madison.”

“Where?”

“He went back to his own place.”

“Is he under arrest?”

“His attorney arrived about an hour after he did at the station. He’s out now. But not before he accepted a cup of coffee and drank from it.”

“You have his DNA?”

“I do.”

“You should have results in days.”

Sharp shook his head. “Looking forward to it.”

They passed a thick hedge of shrubs and entered a vestibule carpeted in rich, soothing green. Organ music drifted from the main parlor already filled with several hundred people. At the front of the room was a polished cherry casket outfitted with shiny brass filigree and handles.

Sharp had made a donation to the online crowdfunding account for the funeral. Judging by the flowers and the other frills, many others had done the same. Beside the casket was an enlarged version of Terrance Dillon’s senior high school picture, likely shot over the summer in anticipation that he would graduate next spring. Under a blue cap and gown, he grinned.

Tessa grew still as she stared at the photo. “He looks even younger in the picture than he did in my office.”

“Yeah.”

The organist began to play “Amazing Grace,” and the audience stood to sing. Sharp and Tessa couldn’t find a seat and ended up standing against the parlor’s back wall. There were few hymnals left, but a woman sitting in front of Tessa handed over hers. Tessa nudged the book toward Sharp, and he accepted his half. She sang as he watched the group.

Tessa’s voice was clear and bright; he had to focus hard on his job and not stare at her. He’d forgotten how angelic her voice sounded. She’d been shy about singing and often only sang when she thought she was alone.

The memorial ran longer than most. There were several people to eulogize the boy. His coach. An uncle. His pastor, kids from the high school, teachers, and friends. All spoke of a highly motivated and fun-loving kid who dreamed of college and his future. The one noticeable absence was Jimmy Dillon, who’d been denied permission to leave jail under guard to attend.

The last song ended and Tessa took the book, closing it softly and tucking it in a pew.

“Let’s go outside. I want to watch them leave,” he said.

Without thinking, he took her hand and guided her through the growing crowd of people. Her fingers wrapped around his, and he struggled to breathe. The more he touched her, the more he missed her. He found an alcove off to the left, just inside the main doors. They stood there and watched.

“Everyone looks so upset,” Tessa said. “I know death is emotional. But I’ve grown used to dealing with the clinical side of it.”

“This side is definitely messier.”

A young girl hurried past them, her hands crushing tissues and trembling as tears streamed down her cheeks. The girl vanished into the ladies’ room.

“I think I need to duck into the ladies’ room. She looks upset.”

“Good idea.”

Tessa followed through the restroom door. As Sharp stood by the wall, he flexed his fingers. Almost pleading for something to happen. More mourners streamed out. Several young men about Terrance’s age huddled in a group by the door. He recognized Ronnie and Garcia.

Sharp walked over to them. “Hey, fellas,” he said. “Agent Sharp with the Virginia State Police.”

“What are you doing here?” Ronnie said. “Doesn’t make sense cops would be h

ere.”

“I want to find out who killed Terrance,” he said simply. “Talk to the people who knew him.”

“Ain’t no one going to find out,” Garcia said. “He was knifed in an alley. Shit happens.”

Ronnie curled his fingers into fists. Light-colored eyes flamed with anger. “Fuck the shit happens, Garcia. Terrance was the real deal. He was a solid guy.”

“I’ve only heard good things about the kid,” Sharp said.

The young men looked from side to side as if they were embarrassed to be seen with Sharp.

“When’s the last time you saw Terrance?” He often asked the same question twice. The truth was easy enough to recall, whereas lies weren’t as easy to track.

“Friday night at the last game. He was all excited about seeing his girl,” Ronnie said.

“You said before he didn’t have a girlfriend,” Sharp said.

“Nice going,” Garcia said.

“Why does it matter now?” Ronnie countered. He looked at Sharp.

“We promised Terrance we wouldn’t tell,” Garcia said.

Ronnie shook his head. “We weren’t supposed to tell when Terrance was alive. Now he’s dead.” He looked at Sharp. “Terrance got back together with his girlfriend, Stephanie. He didn’t want his grandmother to know because she was so worried about him getting the scholarship.”

Garcia shook his head. “Then the dumb bastard got himself killed. Ain’t no reason for a guy to be in an alley in the city unless he’s selling drugs.”

“He was eighteen, Garcia,” Sharp said. “When I was eighteen, I did a few stupid things. I’m lucky to be alive.”

The boys didn’t speak.

“Where’s Stephanie?” Sharp asked.

“She just ran into the bathroom crying,” Ronnie said.