The Dollmaker(The Forgotten Files #2)(82)

“I didn’t mean to, but yes, I saw her. I arrived late to the funeral home. The door to her viewing room was still open. I think Roger and your mother had just left.”

“Was she holding a doll?”

“Man, I don’t know. I could barely focus on her.”

“Did you see anyone else around her?”

“I heard footsteps outside the door, so I left and went to stand in the back of the chapel.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Why you asking about this?”

“Just chasing a lead. We’ll talk later.”

“Yeah, sure. Anything you need.”

Sharp hung up and immediately lit his cigarette.

He watched as a couple walked hand in hand into the funeral home. The woman was crying, and the man looked like he was barely holding up.

If the killer had attended Kara’s funeral and had killed Dillon, there was a possibility he would attend this funeral as well.




Douglas Knox’s autopsy took less than three hours. Dr. Kincaid performed the grim duty with Tessa assisting. There was no sign of external trauma to the body, other than the needle mark in his arm. Dr. Kincaid ordered a full tox screen.

“Let’s have a look internally,” Dr. Kincaid said.

Though the crime scene suggested this might have been murder, Tessa knew the medical examiner could not rule out natural causes.

Dr. Kincaid made a Y incision and soon had the old man’s chest open. She removed the rib cage, and they got their first look at his heart. It was a colored muscle twice its normal size.

“He would have been dead within the year,” Tessa said. “I’m not surprised, given all the heart medication in his medicine chest.”

“It was a miracle he was able to function at all,” Kincaid said. “I understand he left a note.”

“Yes. All it said was, ‘I’m sorry. I should have done more.’”

“Sorry for what?”

“He didn’t say.”

“What was the date of his last prescription?”

“He had a half-dozen prescriptions refilled two days ago.”

“Fills his meds and then kills himself.” She shook her head. “I’ve seen this before. He was screwing up his courage.”

Dr. Kincaid examined Knox’s vital organs, discovering several others were also close to failure.

They were just finishing the autopsy and closing up the body when Dakota arrived. His gaze raked over Tessa, and her skin prickled as energy snapped through her body.

“Agent Sharp,” Dr. Kincaid said. “I’m ruling Douglas Knox’s death undetermined until I get the tox screen back. Then I’ll make a final determination.”

Nodding, he approached the table. “When will that be?”

“A few weeks.”

He glanced at the clock. “Do you have a heavy docket today?”

Kincaid stripped off her gloves as Jerry wheeled away the body. “Several hours to go, but Dr. McGowan is free.”

“Good,” he said, without giving Tessa a chance to comment. “Dr. Kincaid, there is a chance I may have to have my sister’s body exhumed.”

Tessa’s throat tightened with emotion, and she didn’t trust herself to speak. She understood the logic but knew it must be tearing Dakota up.

Dr. Kincaid nodded. “If you decide to proceed, Dr. McGowan and I will be on hand and will take good care of her.”

“Thank you. I hope it’s not necessary.”

“Keep me posted,” Dr. Kincaid said.

Tessa followed him into the hallway.

Sharp stopped a few feet past the doors and turned to her. “I’m headed back to Shield Security. I have a list from the funeral home detailing all the people at Kara’s funeral. I’ve sent scans to Andrews at Shield, and he’s already analyzed it. I’d like you to tag along. You were there. And you knew the players in town.”

“And if I can’t remember, I can call Holly. I just need to change.”

“Right.”

“Give me ten minutes.”

He checked his watch. “I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

Fifteen minutes later Tessa stepped off the elevators and found Dakota pacing. “Sorry. Got a call from the lab. Had to take it.”

“No problem. Are you hungry? Need to eat?”

“No.”

“Let’s go.”

He was parked across the street, and she hurried to match his long strides. She slid into the passenger seat and snapped her seat belt in place.

His computer sat between them. In the backseat was a box filled with active investigation case files. It was neat and organized. She’d kidded him once about his organization in both his car and apartment. He’d attributed it to the marines, said he’d picked up habits he doubted he’d ever shake. The faint hint of cigarette smoke told her he was stressed.

When he settled behind the wheel, she was aware of the breadth of his shoulders. The cut of his jaw. The way his fingers wrapped around the gearshift when he put the car in drive and pulled out of the space.

“The funeral director said there was a doll in Kara’s coffin.”

She twisted in her seat and faced him. “Say again?”

“According to the funeral director, a little girl brought the doll to him and told him Kara’s mother wanted it laid beside her.”