Page 43 of The Dollmaker

“I’ll be sure to copy you.”

He nodded toward the bank of cold storage compartments in the other room, where they kept the bodies. “Help me get the next case ready?”

They transferred Jane Doe’s sheet-clad body to the autopsy room.

She raised the sheet and studied the woman’s face. “Have you seen any disfiguration like that here?” she asked.

“I’ve seen some crazy stuff over the years,” Jerry said. “Piercings, body modification, tattoos, but I have never seen anything like that.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Thursday, October 6, 10:00 a.m.

Tessa turned as the doors to the autopsy suite whooshed open to admit Agent Julia Vargas. The agent had pinned up her ink-black hair in a ponytail, which accentuated an angled face and a faint splash of freckles peppering her skin. She wore a black T-shirt and blazer over dark jeans, ankle-high boots, and her badge dangling from a chain around her neck. She cradled a cup of coffee close. “I’m Agent Vargas. The victim with the doll face is mine.”

Her voice sounded rough and heavy with fatigue. Tessa knew she wouldn’t get much rest until the case broke. Cops worked nonstop in the first two to three days of a homicide, knowing there was a golden window to find a killer before the case went cold.

Jerry raised his hand first. “Hey, Julia. This is our newest recruit, Dr.McGowan. Second day on the job.”

“We met last night at the crime scene,” Tessa said.

“I remember,” Vargas said as she sipped the last of her to-go coffee and dumped it in the trash. “It was a bit of a zoo. We had a dozen cops and deputies show up to steal a look. Like herding cats.” She rubbed the back of her neck as she turned to change. “I’ll get gowned up.”

Barely seconds passed before the doors opened again, this time to Dakota. He had showered and was clean-shaven, his shirt crisp, and he moved with quick steps, his heels striking like a man on a mission. Her heart beat faster as he shrugged off his jacket and slipped on a gown.

“Sharp, you look too chipper,” Vargas said.

Ignoring the attempt at camaraderie, he asked, “Did you find any evidence in the park associated with the victim?”

Vargas’s eyebrow went up, and her eyes sparked with challenge. “We combed the perimeter for hours. We found nothing. Not even a tire track.”

“What about security cameras near the park?”

She rolled her shoulders. “My guys pulled video from three gas stations and a convenience store, and they’re waiting for a couple of stores in a strip mall facing the park entrance to open. We’ll have it all researched by the end of today.”

“And AFIS?”

“No hits yet.”

He tied off his gown and grabbed a set of latex gloves. “Maybe there’s something on the body that’ll tell us more.”

“That’s the hope,” Julia said.

Tessa noted that when he talked to Julia, his shoulders weren’t as rigid, and the snap in his voice, though not relaxed, didn’t crack quite as hard. But he’d always been able to get along with his coworkers. The cases they worked bonded them in ways that, during the investigation, crowded out the rest of the world.

She resented her outlier status when Dakota worked a case. She wanted the easy banter she’d once shared with Dakota back again. One way or the other, they had to muscle past the demands of his job, the failures of the past, and move forward as a couple.

Dr.Kincaid entered, and Tessa took her place across from the doctor. The detectives gathered at the foot of the table. Whereas Vargas absently fingered the thin fabric of her gown, Dakota clasped his hands behind his back and stood at attention.

Dr.Kincaid uncovered the victim’s face.

Vargas automatically shifted her gaze to the victim’s eyes, then quickly looked away. “Forensics captured hair samples from her clothes. Seeing as she doesn’t have any, I’m hoping it belongs to whoever she last saw.” She shook her head. “Jesus. I hope to hell she was medicated during the process.”

Dr.Kincaid studied the body. “That I can’t tell you with certainty. I can tell you she has had cosmetic surgery before. I suspect she’s had a nose job, and she has breast implants,” she said as she palpated the taut breast tissue. “If the fingerprints don’t pan out, I can pull the serial number from the implant and run it through the manufacturer.”

Dakota gave no hint of what he was thinking as he watched the doctor catalogue the victim’s exterior physical landmarks. She had a scar on her forehead, two moles on her right breast, and two older tattoos, a filigree at the base of her spine and a heart on the inside of her right ankle. There was also an appendectomy scar. All these markings offered glimpses into a woman who cared about her appearance.

The doctor leaned toward the victim’s face, pulling a magnifying glass closer to study the tattoo work as she continued to give her report. “We did a full X-ray work-up on her this morning, and there were no broken bones. She does appear to have suffered a fracture in her right wrist, but that would have been at least a decade ago. I checked her eyes and nasal passages for signs of asphyxiation, but found none. I also ran a full tox screen. I put a rush on the test results, so we should have some details back in the next forty-eight hours.”

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