Page 28 of The Dollmaker

A reunion with Tessa was seductive but impossible. She might be naive enough to believe a second try would work, but he wasn’t so foolish.

He pushed through the suite doors and found Tessa standing at the instrument table. A frown furrowed her brow as she studied the instruments. She’d tied her black hair back into a neat bun and tucked it under a surgical cap. She wore green scrubs and paper booties over her tennis shoes.

She looked up at him. A smile flickered, then scurried away. “Dr.Kincaid is on her way, and the lab technician is bringing up Mr.Dillon.”

“Thanks.”

He turned and moved toward a small set of lockers, where he shrugged off his jacket, carefully unfastened the cuffs of his shirt, and rolled up his sleeves. He knew damn well the extra care he took was buying time until Dr.Kincaid arrived. The last thing he wanted was conversation. Grabbing a surgical gown, he slipped it on as a lab technician rolled in the gurney carrying the sheet-clad body of Terrance Dillon.

The tech positioned the body under a lamp hanging from above, and Tessa pushed the instruments closer to the exam table.

The tech was in his early twenties with muscled arms. He grinned at Tessa and winked. “That’s my job.”

Smiling, Tessa flexed gloved fingers. “I know, Jerry. Just trying to get the lay of the land.” She held up her hands in surrender. “I leave it all to you.”

“I’m not fussing at you,” Jerry said. “Just know, you’ll have your hands full soon enough.”

“Great,” she said. “I can’t wait.”

Sharp didn’t mind the way Tessa smiled at Jerry. He recognized it as her polite smile, the one saved for strangers. There was no charge lingering behind her gaze when she looked at Jerry. No undercurrent. Just simple. The exact opposite of what they shared.

He envied her ability to shrug off anxiety and at least look calm and happy. If one of them had a chance at getting out of this marriage whole and healthy, it was Tessa. And he’d see to it she got that chance.

Run while you can, Tessa.

The doors opened to Dr.Kincaid, whose gaze swept to him and briefly to Tessa. “Agent Sharp. How are you this fine day?”

“Can’t complain.” The doctor’s body language revealed what he suspected. Tessa had been up front about their relationship. She was like that. Straightforward. What you saw was what you got.I haven’t been able to forget you.

Dr.Kincaid pulled the microphone toward her lips. She moved closer to the table. Her gaze dropped to the body, and all traces of lightness vanished. “Shall we get started?”

“Let’s do this,” Sharp said.

Jerry pulled back the sheet, folding it, leaving it just below the feet. He clicked on the overhead light, and Dr.Kincaid flipped on the microphone. “This is Dr.Addison Kincaid, and with me today are Dr.Tessa McGowan, lab technician Jerry Taylor, and Agent Dakota Sharp with the Virginia State Police.”

Terrance Dillon’s body had been stripped and cleaned. The dried blood and mud were gone, and his ebony hair was brushed back from his face. His body was lean and fit.

The kid had it all going for him. And yet here he lay, perfect except for the neat knife wound puncturing his midsection. Because cool weather had preserved his body, he looked as if his eyes would open and he could hop off the table.

Dr.Kincaid began with the external exam, detailing a tattoo of a football flanked by wings on his chest as well as an old scar on his knee. She took a reading of his liver temperature and estimated his time of death was between midnight and 2:00 a.m. of Monday morning. The medical examiner’s tone grew heavier as she talked about the knife wound. “This wound is efficient. Either the killer was lucky, or he knew exactly where to jab the knife. I’ll get a better look at the damage when I open him up.”

A review of the X-rays revealed the kid had cracked a rib and his right index finger. Both breaks had long healed, and according to Terrance’s medical records, they had been sustained in a football game. After studying the body’s exterior one last time, she reached for the scalpel and pressed it to the top right of his chest under the collarbone. With practiced ease, she made a Y incision into his chest. Bone cutters snapped the edges of the rib cage, enabling her to remove the breastplate.

The body cavity was mostly void of blood, and after the doctor suctioned what little was left, she was able to point to where the knife’s jab had shredded the kid’s liver, one of the body’s most vascular organs.

“The blade hit its mark,” Dr.Kincaid said. “The victim bled out very quickly.”

“The killer would have had to get close to inflict a wound like that,” Sharp said. Did the kid know his killer, or was he just too damn trusting?

Tessa’s gaze dropped to the boy’s hand. She picked it up and studied it closely. “There’s foreign matter under his fingernail.” Jerry handed her tweezers, and she gently plucked what looked like a small hair strand from under the nail bed.

“Good eye,” Dr.Kincaid said.

Jerry bagged the hair strand, labeling it for the lab. “Can’t believe I missed it.”

The rest of the exam revealed healthy organs. No sign of any other trauma. Dr.Kincaid looked at Tessa. “Dr.McGowan, go ahead and close.”

Tessa nodded.

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