Page 118 of The Dollmaker

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.

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