Page 98 of The Dollmaker

The fading scent of Tessa’s jasmine soap still clung to Sharp’s skin when his phone rang, cutting into the silence. Turning from his computer, he checked the phone’s display: Vargas.

“Sharp,” he said.

“You sound like anything but.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, in no mood for humor. “What do you have?”

“I finally received a call from Veronica Hayes, Elena’s sister. I’d left her three voice mails since we started looking for Elena, but nothing. Veronica just returned from Mexico. Seems her beach house didn’t have cell service. Anyway, Veronica insists it’s not uncommon for Elena to turn her cell off when she’s on vacation.”

“That’s not what Elena’s office said.”

“That’s why I wanted to talk to Veronica in person.”

“When?”

“An hour from now.”

He checked his watch. “Text me the address, and I’ll meet you there.”

“Will do.” She hung up and seconds later her text message arrived.

An hour later he pulled up in front of Veronica Hayes’s Church Hill townhome. It was on a cobblestone street at the top of historic Libby Hill, one of the highest points in Richmond. Bright sun shone on the grassy now-vacant park near Hayes’s house. Below, the James River meandered around a bend past the business center on the north bank, and on the south side, the industrial section. He looked upriver toward the Manchester Bridge, knowing Tessa’s place was nearby.

The rev of an engine had him turning to find Vargas shoehorning a car into a parallel spot with only inches to spare on either end. She took one last gulp from a to-go cup and got out of the car, locking it behind her.

“Some view,” she said, barely glancing toward the river.

“It is.” He turned away.

“I’ve been thinking about Veronica’s Mexican vacation. Can you imagine six days on a beach without your cell? Too much bliss to imagine.”

“The sun is bad for you.”

She laughed. “Since when do we worry about what’s bad for us?”

“Maybe we should start.”

She paused. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No.”

“Damn. What has gotten into you?”

“I’m fine.”

She cocked her head. “It’s Tessa.”

He didn’t speak.

She laughed. “How hard the mighty do fall.”

Ignoring her, he climbed the brick steps of Hayes’s town house. “What was Veronica’s reaction when you spoke to her?”

“She’s understandably upset.”

He understood that kind of pain. He wondered if Veronica would handle it better than he had with Kara. “Let’s hope she has information about Elena to share.”

They walked up the wide brick steps past wrought iron pillars toward a black lacquered door with a tarnished door knocker. Vargas knocked.

---