Page 90 of The Dollmaker

“Sure.”

“What about the dolls found at the Richardson home and the Hayes apartment?”

“I was only able to pull a partial print from the Hayes doll. The Richardson doll was wiped clean. Both of the dolls’ heads, arms, and feet are porcelain. Neither was manufactured, so I’m guessing the parts were ordered from a craft supply store and then assembled. The clothes are also not manufactured but hand-sewn. Finding the seller of any of these materials is a tricky matter.”

With the Internet, this supplier could be anywhere in the world. “Are there similarities between the partial print on Terrance Dillon’s belt buckle and the partial on the Hayes doll?”

“I have a thumbprint on the buckle and a right index finger on the doll. The thumbprint is a fairly good sample, but the index finger shows signs of scarring, perhaps a burn. I had no matches on the index finger and was able to match one, maybe two points on the thumbprint, but as you know, I need at least six for a solid identification.”

“Thanks. Word is you were also on the team in Elena Hayes’s apartment? Find anything?”

“Lots of prints, but no telling which ones, if any, belong to our killer. It’s a matter of sorting through the hundreds we collected and matching them to either the thumbprint or the AFIS system.”

“We’re looking for a needle in a haystack, but at least we have a haystack now.”

“I’ll forward what I have.”

“Thanks.”

As Sharp ended the call, he heard a car door close and looked out his front window. He saw Tessa approaching the door. His first thought was there had to be a problem for her to come to his house this early. He set his coffee cup aside and moved to the door, snapping it open before she could knock.

“Tessa,” he said.

She smiled. “Just the man I need to see. I have information for you.”

He stepped aside. “Come in.”

Closing the door behind her, he felt a familiar tightening in his gut when he watched her walk. Damn. When would he get over wanting her? She moved into the living room, and he motioned for her to sit. She chose the sofa.

He remained standing. “What do you have?”

She scooted to the edge of the couch, clutching a file in her hands. “I pulled Kara’s autopsy file.”

His insides turned brittle. “Why’d you do that?”

“The comment my cousin Holly said bothered me.”

“About the makeup?” A calm tone hid the fire burning in his gut. “The Kara I knew didn’t wear makeup.”

“She wasn’t wearing it that night. The picture proved it. I know my cousin remembers everything, but I thought she might have heard wrong. So I pulled Kara’s medical examiner case files and looked at the pictures taken of her when she arrived at the medical examiner’s office. Have you seen them?”

He paused to shore up his defenses. “No.”

“I know this is painful, Dakota, which is why I did the looking without talking to you first.”

He cleared his throat. “What did you find?”

“The photos show remnants of heavy makeup. The remaining coloring reminds me of a doll. Pale skin, red lips. The pictures prove Kara didn’t wear any makeup to the party. The fact that makeup was on her face makes no sense. Especially considering she’d been missing five days.”

Puzzle pieces snapped into place. “Someone else applied it.”

“That’s what I think.” Her fingers gripped the edges of the file tighter. “I think someone kept her drugged and sedated her like Diane.”

“The killer wasn’t planning to take her,” he said, letting the theory take shape. “He used what he had at the time. Barbiturates and face paint. And he overdosed either by accident or intentionally.” The end result was the same. His sister was dead.

She opened the file and rustled through the papers. “I also discovered the medical examiner found DNA on her. At the time, it didn’t match anyone in the system, but that was twelve years ago. The science is more refined now. Long story short, I’ve requested retesting, and I’ve also asked the DNA be cross-checked against the DNA found on Diane Richardson and Terrance Dillon.”

Sharp rose and paced the room. He stared at her, not trusting himself to speak. Answers dangled just out of reach.

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