Page 83 of The Dollmaker

The living area connected to a galley kitchen, which was clean and tidy. A small hallway led to a bedroom. The shades were drawn up, bathing the room in sunlight. Lying in the center of a neatly made king-size bed was a doll.

“Damn,” Vargas muttered behind Sharp.

“We need to get a search warrant and seal this apartment,” he said.

Sharp moved closer to the bed, tugging on latex gloves. The doll had dark hair and wide bright-blue eyes and wore a red dress. He wasn’t an expert, but he could see the doll’s face was shaped exactly like the one given to Diane. The detailed painting around the eyes and the lips was perfect.

Sharp took a couple of snapshots of the doll before he and Vargas walked out of the apartment. The manager locked the door.

Sharp called for a uniform to stand guard in front of the door until the warrant and forensic team arrived. Only when a uniformed officer had secured the room did the two detectives take the elevator to the first floor.

When they were alone, he said, “We have at least an hour before we can get back in there, and I have a possible crime scene just a couple of blocks from here. Walk with me, and let’s take a look at an alley a block away.”

“Man, I got a full caseload. I don’t have time for strolls.”

“Humor me, Vargas,” he said. He moved to his car and from the trunk collected a flashlight.

“It’s the middle of the day,” Vargas said.

He clicked it on, confirmed it worked, and turned it off. “Stick with me on this.”

Vargas matched Sharp’s quick pace as the two traveled the brick sidewalk. He found the alley Jimmy had described and paused at the entrance. The narrow lane sandwiched between two old brick buildings was empty except for a dumpster at the dead end. One way in. One way out. The perfect death trap.

“Heard about Terrance Dillon, the kid stabbed and dumped north of the city?” Sharp asked.

“I did. Word is he was a good kid with no record. What does this alley have to do with him?”

Sharp reached in his pocket and pulled out latex gloves. “According to Terrance’s father, the kid came to this alley to make a delivery.”

She arched a brow as she also fished out gloves. “You mean drugs?”

“I do.”

“Drug deals go bad all the time,” Vargas challenged.

“According to the kid’s father, the drug in question might have been propofol stolen from a doctor’s office.”

“The kid’s father set up the deal?”

“He did.”

“Keep it in the family. Nice.”

“Jimmy said the drugs were enough to keep a person out for weeks.”

Her frown deepening, she shifted her gaze to the alley. “A month. That’s about the amount of time Diane Richardson’s killer needed to keep her immobilized.”

Sharp clicked on his light, which cast an infrared beam. Hunters used this light to track the blood trail of shot game. He was hunting for human blood. “I asked Dr.McGowan to test the foreign DNA found on Richardson’s and Dillon’s bodies.”

“You think they could be a match?”

“Right now, I wouldn’t bet against it.”

Sharp slowly moved into the alley, inspecting the worn cobblestones. At first, he saw only the gray. “If this deal occurred last Sunday, then the drugs wouldn’t have been for Diane. The work on her was already done at that point.”

“You think this guy is planning to take someone else? Maybe someone like Elena?”

“I’d like to be wrong.” If Elena was in danger, that meant Tessa could be as well. Sharp kept his gaze on the cobblestones. “There was no blood at the spot where we found the kid’s body. His stab wound did maximum damage, and Kincaid thinks he bled out quickly.”

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