The Dollmaker(The Forgotten Files #2)(62)

Sharp started his engine. He did not want to be right about this, but he already knew he wasn’t. “Where are you now?”

“I’m on my way to her apartment. I’ve contacted the landlord, and he’s willing to let me have a quick look inside the apartment. Care to come with?”

“I would.”

“Great. Sending you the address now.”

“Thanks.” His phone buzzed with the text, and he was en route immediately. A half hour later he was standing in front of Elena Hayes’s address. It was a converted warehouse near the train tracks cutting across the Shockoe Bottom district of the city. He stared at the street signs intersecting Main Street. He was at the corner of Sixteenth and Main. The Seventeenth Street location Jimmy Dillon had mentioned was a block away. Coincidences like this were rarely accidental.

Her sunglasses catching the sun, Vargas leaned against the brick building, her arms folded. She looked relaxed, but he smelled the tension sizzling around her.

“Taking a nap?” he asked.

“Waiting for your sluggish self. I’ve spoken to the apartment manager, and he’s ready to show us the apartment.”

“What about a search warrant?”

“I have the go-ahead from a judge to ascertain the status of Elena Hayes. If we see any evidence of trouble, we’ll back out and request the warrant.”

Inside the building they took the elevator to the fifth floor and rounded a long corner where a skinny guy with a pockmarked face stood. He wore tattered jeans, a black T-shirt, and boots. In his hand was a ring of keys.

Sharp showed him his badge and introduced himself.

“I’m Max Quentin. Haven’t seen Ms. Hayes in a couple of days,” he said as he searched the ring of keys. “She was headed out for a vacation.”

“Is it unusual for you not to see her for days at a time?”

“Yes. She had an obsession for schedules. Gym, work, and then out with her friends at night. She’s always coming and going.”

“Do you pay this close attention to all your tenants?” Vargas asked.

“No. Just the hot ones.” The manager grinned as he found the right key and turned the lock. The door opened to an airy one-bedroom apartment with a large picture window overlooking the train tracks and the river. Her place was simply decorated with an overstuffed couch and a white shag area rug. A glass coffee table held a television remote and a neat stack of magazines.

Vargas rattled keys in her hands. “I confirmed with Elena’s colleague, Miranda, who said Elena had a huge presentation at work in two weeks. Part of her getting away was to have a quiet place to prepare.”

“Where did she go?”

“Miranda thought she may have gone to her parents’ lake house so no one from work would drop in on her.”

Sharp nodded to a laptop on the kitchen counter. “Think she would have needed that if she were going to work on her vacation?”

“Absolutely,” Vargas said. “Miranda said she was dedicated and had her eye on a promotion.”

“Has anyone checked with the hospitals?” Sharp asked.

Vargas flipped open a small notebook. “I called the local ones, and no one has heard of Elena Hayes or admitted anyone matching her description.”

“What about a boyfriend?”

More notebook pages flipped. “She had one a couple of years ago. He left her and married someone else. She’s been single since. Really into fitness. Loves yoga. Was talking last week about what she’d do if she closed this upcoming deal.”

The living area connected to a galley kitchen, which was clean and tidy. A small hallway led to a bedroom. The shades were drawn up, bathing the room in sunlight. Lying in the center of a neatly made king-size bed was a doll.

“Damn,” Vargas muttered behind Sharp.

“We need to get a search warrant and seal this apartment,” he said.

Sharp moved closer to the bed, tugging on latex gloves. The doll had dark hair and wide bright-blue eyes and wore a red dress. He wasn’t an expert, but he could see the doll’s face was shaped exactly like the one given to Diane. The detailed painting around the eyes and the lips was perfect.

Sharp took a couple of snapshots of the doll before he and Vargas walked out of the apartment. The manager locked the door.

Sharp called for a uniform to stand guard in front of the door until the warrant and forensic team arrived. Only when a uniformed officer had secured the room did the two detectives take the elevator to the first floor.

When they were alone, he said, “We have at least an hour before we can get back in there, and I have a possible crime scene just a couple of blocks from here. Walk with me, and let’s take a look at an alley a block away.”

“Man, I got a full caseload. I don’t have time for strolls.”

“Humor me, Vargas,” he said. He moved to his car and from the trunk collected a flashlight.

“It’s the middle of the day,” Vargas said.

He clicked it on, confirmed it worked, and turned it off. “Stick with me on this.”

Vargas matched Sharp’s quick pace as the two traveled the brick sidewalk. He found the alley Jimmy had described and paused at the entrance. The narrow lane sandwiched between two old brick buildings was empty except for a dumpster at the dead end. One way in. One way out. The perfect death trap.