Page 36 of The Dollmaker

“Have either of you ever seen anyone with this kind of tattooing?” Julia asked.

“I’ve seen facial tattoos within the gangs,” Dr.Kincaid said.

“Some of the cultures in Asia tattoo the females’ faces, but that’s dying out,” Tessa said.

“I’ve seen women who’ve had permanent makeup applied to their faces. Eyeliner, blush, even lip color,” Dr.Kincaid said. “Even had a woman on my table who had her boyfriend’s name inked on her forehead. But a doll face is a new one.”

“It’s fine workmanship,” Tessa said. Her expression telegraphed a mixture of fascination and sadness.

Tessa pushed up the sleeve of the oversize doll dress. “The white stippling tattoo work that’s on her face also extends from her fingertips to her wrists. Her eyes are expertly lined in a dark ink, and very precise freckles dot her cheeks.” She touched the victim’s mouth. “The red heart-shape tattoo here redefines the shape of her lips.”

“She’d have to be out cold, otherwise the work couldn’t have been done to her face,” Vargas said.

“The injection site isn’t infected, and there’s no bruising, suggesting whoever inserted a needle in her arm knew what they were doing,” Tessa said.

Sharp folded his arms, trying to envision the woman before this work was done, but he couldn’t see past the ink.

Tessa pulled the sleeve back over the victim’s arm. “Look at the detail around her eyes,” she said. “It’s hard enough to do with pen and ink, let alone with a tattoo needle.”

“Only a monster would do this to an unwilling woman,” Vargas said.

“I didn’t say the person who did this was sane,” Tessa said. “I was simply commenting on the skill.”

He watched as Tessa absently rested her hand on the victim’s arm as if assuring her it would be okay, and she was now in good hands. He suspected if he weren’t standing there, Tessa would have spoken to the victim, issuing words of reassurance.

He cleared his throat. “Dr.Kincaid, do you have any idea how she died?”

Dr.Kincaid checked the victim’s neck for signs of strangulation and tipped her body forward to look at her back. “Dr.McGowan, what’s your opinion?”

Frowning, Tessa studied the body. “There are no signs of trauma on the body. We’ll have to check her blood levels for signs of asphyxiation and drug overdose.”

“Why the frown, Dr.McGowan?” Vargas asked.

“Her shoulder blades and the backs of her hands are discolored.”

“What does that suggest, Dr.McGowan?” Dr.Kincaid asked.

“After her heart stopped pumping, the blood settled in the lowest part of her body, which was her back.” She rolled down the knee socks and inspected the back of the victim’s calves. They were also bruised. “If she’d died here, her shoulder blades would not be discolored.”

“Correct,” Dr.Kincaid said.

“On her back,” Vargas said, shifting as if uncomfortable with the idea. “I don’t want to think what that suggests.”

“We’ll determine if there was sexual activity,” Dr.Kincaid said. “Though I might not be able to determine whether it was pre- or postmortem.”

“Jesus,” Vargas muttered.

Dr.Kincaid ran her hands over the dead woman’s arm. “The skin is smooth, and there are no signs of hair on her arms or legs. She’s been waxed recently.”

“Do you think it’s murder?” Tessa asked.

“She didn’t die here,” Dr.Kincaid said. “But that doesn’t mean she was murdered. She could have overdosed.”

“The second party panicked,” Vargas said. “She could have been into some kind of weird shit, and it went sideways. Whoever she was partying with dumped her here.”

“She wasn’t dumped,” Sharp said. “She was carefully posed.”

“A final sign of respect?” Vargas asked.

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