The Dollmaker(The Forgotten Files #2)(23)

A review of the X-rays revealed the kid had cracked a rib and his right index finger. Both breaks had long healed, and according to Terrance’s medical records, they had been sustained in a football game. After studying the body’s exterior one last time, she reached for the scalpel and pressed it to the top right of his chest under the collarbone. With practiced ease, she made a Y incision into his chest. Bone cutters snapped the edges of the rib cage, enabling her to remove the breastplate.

The body cavity was mostly void of blood, and after the doctor suctioned what little was left, she was able to point to where the knife’s jab had shredded the kid’s liver, one of the body’s most vascular organs.

“The blade hit its mark,” Dr. Kincaid said. “The victim bled out very quickly.”

“The killer would have had to get close to inflict a wound like that,” Sharp said. Did the kid know his killer, or was he just too damn trusting?

Tessa’s gaze dropped to the boy’s hand. She picked it up and studied it closely. “There’s foreign matter under his fingernail.” Jerry handed her tweezers, and she gently plucked what looked like a small hair strand from under the nail bed.

“Good eye,” Dr. Kincaid said.

Jerry bagged the hair strand, labeling it for the lab. “Can’t believe I missed it.”

The rest of the exam revealed healthy organs. No sign of any other trauma. Dr. Kincaid looked at Tessa. “Dr. McGowan, go ahead and close.”

Tessa nodded.

As Tessa moved around the table and closer to Dakota, he caught the whiff of a soft jasmine soap, but no frilly perfume. That was Tessa.

She positioned the breastplate back in place and closed the large flaps of skin. Threading a large needle with practiced ease, she sewed up the body.

As he watched her work, he realized she was wearing her wedding band on her ring finger under her gloves. She’d not been wearing it yesterday.

They’d eloped alone to Las Vegas. He’d not had a ring for the ceremony but had insisted they drive to a jewelry store and buy one. She’d wanted a simple band, saying a stone was too fussy for her. Six months into their marriage he had ordered an engagement ring for her as a birthday surprise, but by the time it had been made, she was gone. It remained in a drawer in his bedside table. They’d officially been married sixteen months, but half that time had been spent apart.

His phone buzzed, and he glanced at the text. It was the station. Another body had been found in a park twenty miles north of the city. “All right, Doc. Thanks. Let me know if toxicology comes back with any interesting results. I’ve received a homicide call that I have to deal with now.”

“Never a dull moment,” Dr. Kincaid said.

“I wish to hell it were,” he said.

He stripped off his gown. “Jerry and Dr. McGowan, thank you for your time.”

“Of course, Agent,” Jerry said.

Tessa looked up from her stitching. “Have a nice day, Agent.”

Right. A nice day.

He reached for his jacket and left through the swinging doors without a look back. Outside, he was steps away from the building before he reached for a cigarette. As he lit up and inhaled, he was annoyed with himself on multiple fronts. Whatever promises he’d made about the smoking sure as shit had gone by the wayside, and whatever vows he’d made about staying clear of Tessa McGowan were officially on shaky ground.

His phone rang as he slid behind the wheel of his car. “Sharp.”

“Jacob McLean,” the caller said.

Sharp stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray. “I thought you were dead.”

A deep chuckle rumbled through the receiver. “I get that a lot.”

Jacob and Sharp had been buddies in high school and both served together in the marines. Sharp had been a sniper. McLean had been a medic attached to a Special Forces unit. When Kara had died, McLean had been reassigned for specialized training at Quantico and had driven down for her funeral dressed in his marine uniform.

“Where are you?” Sharp asked.

“I returned to Virginia about a week ago. I’m prepping for a job interview with an old college buddy who works with an outfit called Shield Security.”

“I’ve dealt with them. Smart. Dedicated. Cowboys,” Sharp said.

“Sounds like my kind of people.”

Sharp started the engine. “You might be right. Need a place to bunk?”

“Been crashing at my mother’s old place. Getting it ready to sell, but that’s wearing thin.”

“I’ll text you my address. There’s a key hidden above the front door in a small crack on the left. I’m on my way to a homicide, so no telling when I’ll be home.” It would be nice to have a friend around who might distract him from thinking about Tessa.

“Don’t worry about me.”

Sharp drove to the small suburban park northwest of Richmond, not far from where Terrance Dillon’s body had been found. This was his third visit to the area in as many days. What the hell was it with this place?

When he arrived, a collection of local cop cars blocked the park’s entrance. He paused at the checkpoint, showed his ID, and made his way back along the narrow winding road that butted into a playground complete with swing sets, a carousel, and an elaborate jungle gym. A buzz of activity by a picnic table drew his attention, and he could see a local forensic team was on hand. Again, a ring of yellow tape enclosed the area, blocking any random visitor who might stumble onto the scene.