The Dollmaker(The Forgotten Files #2)(88)

“Nice going,” Garcia said.

“Why does it matter now?” Ronnie countered. He looked at Sharp.

“We promised Terrance we wouldn’t tell,” Garcia said.

Ronnie shook his head. “We weren’t supposed to tell when Terrance was alive. Now he’s dead.” He looked at Sharp. “Terrance got back together with his girlfriend, Stephanie. He didn’t want his grandmother to know because she was so worried about him getting the scholarship.”

Garcia shook his head. “Then the dumb bastard got himself killed. Ain’t no reason for a guy to be in an alley in the city unless he’s selling drugs.”

“He was eighteen, Garcia,” Sharp said. “When I was eighteen, I did a few stupid things. I’m lucky to be alive.”

The boys didn’t speak.

“Where’s Stephanie?” Sharp asked.

“She just ran into the bathroom crying,” Ronnie said.

“Thanks.”

“You really want to find this killer?” Ronnie asked.

“More than anything,” Sharp said.

Both boys nodded. As they filed out of the funeral home, he caught sight of Tessa, who stood with a young girl by the ladies’ room. Her gaze locked on his, and she motioned for him to come over.

He weaved through the crowds. The girl beside Tessa was petite, not more than seventeen. She had sandy-brown hair skimming her shoulders. Pale skin made the flush in her cheeks all the brighter.

“Agent, this is Stephanie White. She and Terrance were dating.”

The girl looked up at Sharp but didn’t make eye contact with him. Tessa wrapped her arm around the girl’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I know he looks like he could bite, but he won’t.”

Sharp eased back a bit and did his best to smile.

Tessa shot him a look as if to point out he still didn’t look approachable.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for your loss, Stephanie. I really am.”

“He was a good guy.” Stephanie twisted a tissue in her hands until it was a tight spiral around her index finger.

“That’s what everyone is saying.” A sigh shuddered through him. “Stephanie, I’m here to get any kind of lead on the guy who stabbed Terrance, but I can’t do it without your help.”

She glanced up, her watery gaze so full of loss.

“I think Terrance made a delivery on Sunday night,” Stephanie said. “He recognized someone he wasn’t supposed to, and it got him killed.”

Tessa tightened her hold on the girl and whispered in her ear. The tissue in her hands tore in half.

“He texted me. At first I didn’t recognize the number. But he said it was Terrance.”

“What did he say?”

“That his ride had arrived.”

“What time was this?”

“Near midnight on Sunday night.” She shook her head. “I texted him right back, but he didn’t respond. I told him to leave. That whatever Jimmy had gotten him into was bad.”

“You knew his father was in town?”

“Terrance told me Jimmy started writing him, but he made me swear not to tell his grandmother. Mrs. Jones hates Jimmy.”

“What was his last text to you?”

“‘White van here. Got to go.’”

White van. Like the vehicle cruising around Diane’s town house.

“We never found any phone. Do you still have the text?”

“Yes.” She dug the phone out of her purse and showed him the number.

Sharp wrote it down. “And he’s never used this number before?”

“No.” She lowered the phone back in her purse. “Terrance was a great guy. He wouldn’t have hurt anyone.”

Tessa handed her more tissues. “You did a great job, Stephanie.”

He handed her a card and a pen. “Write your number on the back. When I find this killer, you’ll be one of my first calls.”

With a trembling hand she wrote out her information and handed it back. He gave her a fresh business card. “Call me if you think of anything else?”

She studied his name, her shoulders straightening with resolve. “I will.”

Stephanie looked up at Tessa. “Thank you.”

“You also have my number. Call if you need me.”

Nodding, she walked toward the front door. When she was out of sight, Sharp said, “Thanks. I don’t think she would have talked to me if not for you.”

“Can you blame her?”

He glanced at her, not sure if she was annoyed or not. “I’ll admit I’m not the most approachable.”

Laughter sparked in her gaze, and then she sobered. “Given what you do on a day-to-day basis, it doesn’t surprise me that you’re so distant and angry. How do you do this year after year?”

“Someone has to give a shit. And I like what I do.”

She intertwined her fingers with his again, sending ripples of energy shooting through him. “I really get that now.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah.”

Saying she understood the demands of the job was far different from living with it. They’d tried that once and failed.

“The inventory reports I read stated there was no phone in Terrance’s belongings,” Tessa said.