The Dollmaker(The Forgotten Files #2)(44)

Tessa was finishing the last of a stack of HR forms when she felt him. The familiar tightening in her gut told her Sharp was close. Setting her pen aside, she looked up. He was standing in her doorway, studying her.

Slowly she rose, sensing this was the moment he was going to insist she file the papers and be done with their marriage. “Is everything all right?”

He walked into her office, his tall frame dominating the space. Boxes filled with medical books and unhanged framed diplomas lined the wall behind her desk. His gaze settled on a picture resting on the top box. It was taken of her in the jungle six months ago.

He frowned. “What can you tell me about Diane Emery?”

What had prompted that question? “Diane was one of our friends from town. There were four of us from town who went to the college.”

“I remember Kara mentioning her, but not much else.” At her desk, he picked up a paperweight given to her when she’d made the honor society in medical school. Slowly he turned it over in his hand. “I remember you. But not Diane, or Elena.”

“We all knew each other in high school, but we didn’t get together much outside of school. We four roomed side by side on the same freshman hallway, but you were in Iraq then. I was Kara’s roommate, and Diane and Elena stayed in the room next to ours.”

“She never mentioned Diane to me.” How many times had he tried to recall their last conversations together, she wondered. “But then there were always other things to talk about. Mom. Roger. College applications. She did say she had friends from high school going to college with her.”

“Why the questions about Diane?”

He looked at her with no hints of emotion. “Diane Emery was the Jane Doe on your table yesterday.”

The familiar name of an old friend was the last she’d have expected to hear. Her memories of Diane dated back twelve years to college, when they’d been so excited about striking out on their own. A cold knot settled in her gut. “Diane Emery is our Jane Doe? That victim’s last name is Richardson.”

“Richardson was her married name.”

“God, I thought there was something familiar about her, but I didn’t make the connection.” Sadness strangled her heart. “Are you sure? The Diane I knew just wouldn’t end up like this.”

“How long has it been since you’ve seen Diane?”

She was irritated and disappointed with herself for not knowing the woman on the table had been a friend.

“I haven’t seen her in twelve years.”

“What do you know about her?” He studied the paperweight.

“Clearly not much. I didn’t know she’d gotten married. We both went our separate ways after my accident. I had to take the rest of the semester off, and by spring I really started to focus on the sciences. I also moved back in with my aunt to save money because the accident ate into most of my savings for college. Diane stayed in the art department, and I think she spent her sophomore year in Paris.”

“She married a guy named Nathan Richardson five years ago and they divorced a year later. I’m tracking her ex-husband now, and I’ll be talking to him soon enough. I remember Kara ran with a few other girls that first few months in college. One was you. Was Diane one of the others?”

“Yes.”

“I want to know more about her relationship with Kara.” A razor-sharp edge had crept into his voice.

“Diane was from town, just like Kara and me. Kara and Diane were school friends. They were both on the cheer squad in high school. They had a lot in common, and I know even by mid-October they were already talking about being roommates during their sophomore year. Both of them were art majors. They went to the frat parties together. They even went out with the same guy.”

“What guy?”

“Stanford Madison.”

“Where can I find him?”

“I don’t know, but I have a phone number for him. You can try that.”

“You’ve kept in touch with him?”

“He came to visit me in the hospital after my accident. Helped me with my rehab. I haven’t seen him in a couple of years. I’m still digging out eight months’ worth of e-mails, but I did notice he e-mailed me about an upcoming art show here in Richmond. I think he’s also teaching at the university.”

“He’s in Richmond now?”

“Yeah.”

“Send me his number.”

“Sure.” She pulled her phone from her lab coat pocket and forwarded the contact.

His gaze darkened. “Dig into your memory and find every connection you can between Diane and Kara and Madison.”

“I don’t understand. Kara’s death was different than Diane’s. She didn’t have tattoos or any kind of doll getup.”

“She died of an overdose, which Dr. Kincaid believes is Diane’s cause of death. She was missing for five days before she was found. And witness statements put her at a Halloween party with friends dressed as dolls. I’m assuming one of those ‘dolls’ was Diane.”

“Yes. Diane, Elena, and I were wearing the doll costumes,” Tessa said, more to herself. “All four of us had gone to a Halloween party, and I thought it would be fun if we dressed alike.”

“Kara went for that? She hated dolls.”