The Dollmaker(The Forgotten Files #2)(98)

“His wife brought in a bottle of antacids. It was nearly empty.”

“Why was he taking the antacids?”

“He was complaining of mild heartburn.”

Dr. Kincaid shook her head. “That’s the last of our cases. The detectives will be here in about twenty minutes. Jerry is getting their case prepped and on the table. Have you notified Douglas Knox’s family about his death?”

“I was able to get the number of his oldest daughter, and I’ve put a call into her. I didn’t leave a specific message other than to call me.”

“Good. We need to know how to proceed with the body.”

“Okay.”

Dr. Kincaid studied her closely. “Are you okay, Dr. McGowan?”

The question caught her off guard. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because Sharp called me last night and told me that you also knew this victim. He’s worried about you.”

She rubbed the back of her neck. “He’s assigned a cop to me twenty-four/seven.”

“Why?”

“He thinks there’s a pattern to these deaths, and I might be next.”

Dr. Kincaid’s gaze darkened. “Sharp doesn’t scare easily. I agree with his caution.”

Tessa smiled, hoping it hid her worry. Last night she’d barely slept. If she wasn’t trying to draw connections between the two murdered women and herself, she was thinking about Dakota.

All this time she’d thought he’d been using the past to avoid the future, but God, it looked like he had been right to worry. On an instinctual level he’d known Kara had been murdered.

When she stepped into her office, Dakota was standing there, staring at a picture taken of her and a group of forensic doctors identifying bones in the jungle.

“You look happy in this picture,” he said without turning. “You didn’t smile much like that toward the end of us.”

“I was happy at that moment. We found the soldier we’d been searching for. But I wasn’t really happy, mostly because I knew you weren’t happy and I didn’t know how to fix it.”

“It’s selfish of me to withdraw,” he said as he replaced the picture.

Tessa didn’t speak as he turned and crossed to her.

“I was angry and frustrated, and the better it got between us the worse I felt. It was as if I didn’t have the right to be happy because my sister was dead.”

This was the first time she’d ever had a sense of what he felt. “If it had been reversed and you’d died, would you have wanted Kara to suffer alone?”

“No. Of course not.”

“I can promise you, she’d not have wanted this for you. She adored you.”

“I can’t make any promises about our future until I catch this killer. I understand myself well enough to know I won’t be much better of a person than I was a year ago.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

God, but she loved this man. She’d told him often enough when they’d first married, but he’d seemed to brush her words aside. Leaving for Southeast Asia had been a last-ditch effort to get him to react, and when he hadn’t, she left. Now Tessa was back, trying to hold them together.

“God hates quitters, Agent Sharp.”

That prompted a half smile.

She took his hands in hers, half expecting him to pull away, but he did not. “You’ve taken a lot of bad people off the streets. You’ve given so many families closure.”

“What’s the saying? The cobbler’s wife has no shoes. He can do for others, but he can’t do for himself or his family.”

“You’re getting closer to this killer, Dakota. You’ll catch him.”

“It’s not coming together fast enough. Especially if you’re next on his list.”

“What about the boy who delivered the drugs? You’re nearly certain the drugs came from Dr. Bailey’s office.” The clean scent of soap mingled with his scent, and for the first time in a while, no traces of cigarette smoke.

“The office manager is still not talking, but I’m going to press her hard today. She’s coming back to the station with her attorney.”

“You can be a pretty scary guy.”

He traced his thumb over the back of her hand. His touch was so soft and gentle, it would be easy to convince herself he’d not touched her. “I don’t want you to ever be scared of me.”

She smiled. “I’m not.”

“Good.”

She squeezed his hand. “What about Veronica Hayes?”

“Veronica is working with the sketch artist, and we’re expecting an image soon.”

“Let’s hope she remembers enough for a good sketch.”

“Yeah.”

Her office phone rang and she glanced at the display, annoyed. She pressed the speakerphone. “Dr. McGowan.”

“Carol Knox is returning your call. Line two.”

She glanced up at Dakota. “Thanks, Sarah.” She ended that call and explained to him, “Carol Knox is the chief’s daughter. His ex-wife died six years ago.”

His demeanor chilled in a blink. “I’d like to talk to her.”

“Sure.” She picked up line two. “Ms. Knox, this is Dr. Tessa McGowan, with the Virginia Medical Examiner’s Office.”