The Dollmaker(The Forgotten Files #2)(76)

“You’ve a good memory,” Vargas said.

“One of those moments in life when time stops and the details sharpen,” Veronica said.

“The police chief called for backup?” Sharp asked.

“I suppose. He was on the phone with someone, and he looked like he was arguing.”

“Did you catch what he said?”

“No. Sorry. After he got off the phone, he told us to go home and he would talk to us later.”

“Did he talk to you later?”

“Yeah. But it was after the funeral.”

“Was that conversation two or three days after the funeral?”

“Three days.”

“Did you notice any other details about the body?” Sharp asked.

“Yeah. She looked like a monster out of a horror show. Elena really freaked out. I guess it was the weird makeup. Why all the questions about that case?”

Sharp kept his voice calm. “She was wearing makeup?”

“Yeah. A lot of it. Very weird.”

“What was weird about it?”

“She was made up like a doll. Elena said it didn’t make sense. Kara had not looked like that when they were at the Halloween party.”

Sharp pulled out the picture taken of the four girls. “Two of these girls are now dead. Kara and Diane.”

“Diane Emery is dead?”

“Yes. And now we can’t find Elena.”

Veronica’s face paled. “I’ll drive up to the lake house and tell Elena myself to call you.”

“Give me the address,” Sharp said. “I’ll go up there.”

Veronica shook her head. “You’re scaring me.”

“You should be scared,” Sharp said. “We need to find your sister.”

After Veronica wrote down the address, Sharp left the house, needing to get outside and breathe fresh air. A monster out of a horror show. The words sucker-punched him.

Vargas caught up to him as walked down the steps. “Where are you going?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.

“I’m driving up to Elena’s lake house right now. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Roger that.”

As he slid behind the wheel, his phone rang. “Andrews.”

“I visited Douglas Knox today.”

“And?”

“He’s hiding key information.”

“I know. Elena Hayes’s sister confirmed that Kara’s face had been made up.”

“Knox said if he did wipe makeup off your sister’s face, it was to protect your stepfather’s and mother’s feelings. I don’t believe him.”

“I’m on my way toward the lake to try and find Elena. I’ll talk to Knox.”




Douglas Knox sat alone in his home. For the first time in years, he’d turned his chair toward the windows and stared out at the still waters of the lake. The full moon dripped light over water so peaceful and so serene. It would be easy to believe this was a place of goodness.

He glanced in his lap at the revolver. Lifting it, he clicked open the chamber and made sure it was fully loaded. He snapped it closed and cradled it close to his chest as he glanced at the note he’d written. The quickly scrawled words were paltry. I’m sorry. I should have done more.

The creak of floorboards had him turning. Death stood silhouetted in the hallway. He came more and more often these days. Knox had been afraid at first but not so much anymore.

“What are you doing here?” Knox asked.

“Came to check on you. You didn’t look so good the other day. I worry about you.”

Knox coughed. “I never look good. I’m dying.”

Death knelt beside his chair and carefully took the gun and inspected it. “I heard.”

Knox stared at Death, wishing he’d end it all for him now. To do what he didn’t have the courage to do. “News travels fast.”

“Small town.”

“What do you want?”

Death opened the revolver’s chamber, then clicked it closed. “What did you give Sharp?”

“I gave him the files I collected during my investigation of his sister’s death.”

“Why?”

Knox leaned closer, staring into Death’s cold eyes. “The guy is smart. He’ll figure out what happened to Kara.”

Death rose, tucked the gun in his waistband, and sat beside Knox. He pulled a syringe from his coat pocket. Gently, he pushed up Knox’s sleeve and searched for a vein.

“What are you doing?”

“You know what I’m doing. I’m giving you your freedom.”

Knox’s heart kicked up a notch as he thought about dying. He’d been too afraid to live all these years and oddly was now afraid of letting go.

Weak thin blue veins threaded up his arms, which Death poked and prodded. Finally, Death found one vein plump enough to work.

“I let you down,” Knox said.

“You didn’t.”

Knox let his head drop back against his chair. “I tried to help you, but everything I did for you failed.”

“Time to release all those thoughts.”

He wanted release, but didn’t have the courage to do it himself. He was tired. And ready to face whatever fate his maker had planned for him.