The Dollmaker(The Forgotten Files #2)(83)

“Why would this killer ask a child to give the doll to the funeral director?”

“The doll seems to be his calling card. The child was a way to deliver the doll without him being noticed.”

“Why would the killer attend her funeral?”

“Killers go to funerals for a variety of reasons. Guilt, remorse, a perverse need to relive the murder. That’s why I want to go over the list of those in attendance.”

“Assuming the killer would have bothered to sign the register.”

“If he showed, had the doll put in the casket, I’d bet money he couldn’t resist signing the log and not even use an alias. He’d want a lasting memento of his presence.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Andrews suggested an exhumation.”

“God, Dakota.”

They drove in silence as Dakota cut through traffic at speeds frightening to most people. She’d forgotten how fast he drove, but now as before, she didn’t worry. He’d always maintained an utter sense of control.

“About what happened yesterday morning.” She needed him to hear this. “If it happened again, I wouldn’t be sorry.” She settled back in her seat. “In fact, I’m planning on it happening again.”

He glanced at her, the sunlight splashing across her face. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

For the first time in a year, she felt a sense of calm. “I know exactly what I’m saying.”

He didn’t utter a word for the final fifteen minutes of the drive. They pulled up to the front gate of Shield Security. Dakota showed both their identifications and told the guard they were meeting Garrett Andrews.

In the lobby, a large, muscled man was waiting for them. He wore black slacks and a black turtleneck that covered most of his neck and arms, but she saw the faint scarring on his left hand and on the left side of his neck. He’d been badly burned.

As he approached, Andrews’s cool blue gaze didn’t show a hint of welcome or emotion. “Agent Sharp. Dr. McGowan, correct?”

“Yes,” she said, extending her hand.

Without hesitation, he accepted it in a firm grip.

“Welcome,” he said.

She sensed he’d read a book on politeness and was ticking through bullet points. “Thank you, Mr. Andrews.”

Andrews guided them toward a bank of elevators, and when they were inside, he pressed the top floor. The computer expert made no effort at small talk, and Dakota, who had never mastered the skill, didn’t attempt it either.

When the doors opened, they followed Andrews along a carpeted hallway to a state-of-the-art computer lab. “I’ve cross-checked names of attendees you sent with a database,” Andrews said.

“And?” Dakota asked.

“Two of the men had a prison record. Larceny, drugs, no charges involving sexual assault or any predictors suggesting an escalation to murder.”

“Women are also capable of killing.”

“Agreed,” Andrews said. “So I had a look at anyone who might have had a mental-health issue.”

“That kind of information is now classified by the HIPAA law. How can you access this?” Tessa asked.

Andrews stared blankly at her. “If it’s connected to a computer, I can get to it.”

Judging by the equipment in the room, she had no doubt he had the digital world at his fingertips. “Good to know,” she said.

“What about people who were there and are now showing up during the course of this investigation?” Dakota asked.

“Diane, Elena, and I were there.” Tessa scanned the list shown on the large display screen. “Stanford Madison was there.”

“Madison?” Dakota said.

Andrews tapped computer keys. “I didn’t see his name.”

“He has a distinctive signature,” Tessa said. “It’s unreadable.”

Andrews pressed more keys and blew up the list. “It must be this one.”

She looked at the elaborate scroll swirling over what looked like mountain peaks. “That’s it. It’s how he signs his work. It’s supposed to be an S and M.”

“He was earning his master’s in art at the school you attended, correct?” Andrews asked.

“Yes,” Tessa said.

“Until a few days ago, Madison was preparing for an art show,” Dakota said. “After I paid him a visit, he tossed all his work in the trash and vanished. I’ve got a BOLO out on him.”

“Interesting,” Andrews said.

“He also knew my sister, as well as Tessa and Diane,” Dakota added.

“It sure shines a bright light on him, doesn’t it?” Andrews said.

“The evidence pointing to Madison feels heavy-handed,” Tessa said.

Andrews nodded. “If I wanted to frame someone, he would be the perfect choice.”

“You think he’s being framed?” Dakota challenged.

“I think it’s important to keep an open mind and not get tunnel vision based on personal bias,” Andrews countered.

“He’s crawled under a rock and is planning his next move.”

Andrews shrugged. “Give me his basic data. I’ll search for him.”