Page 51 of The Dollmaker

“Make it quick,” Reggie said. “Molly hates to be kept waiting.”

Sharp glanced at the victim’s face. “We came across this woman, and it’s clear she had quite a bit of specialty ink done to her face.”

Shay looked at the picture and enlarged it with a swipe of her fingers. “The detail is amazing. Some of the best work I’ve ever seen.” She handed the phone to Reggie.

Reggie adjusted his glasses, and the instant he saw the picture, his annoyance vanished. “Damn.”

“Any idea whose work this might be?” Sharp asked.

“I’m good, but Shay’s better,” Reggie said. “She’s the only one in the shop who could come close.”

“I worked in a beauty salon doing permanent makeup for a while.” As she traced the imprint of the victim’s right eye, her brow furrowed. “I’ve not seen this much facial detailing before.” She pulled dark-rimmed glasses from her pocket and slid them on before raising the image closer. “You’re right about the attention to detail. It’s hard to get this kind of facial coverage and still make it look natural.”

“Natural?” Sharp challenged. “What’s natural about it?”

“I’m referring to the subtlety of the colors. Easy to cover the skin in a heavy patch of white, but it’s not so easy to stipple in other softer colors to create a more realistic—for lack of a better word—look. Her face looks like porcelain. That’s not easy to do. I’ve only done two facial tattoos. They were simple tribal markings. I’ve had no requests for this fine a detail. This guy is a true artisan.”

“How long would a job like that take?” Sharp asked.

“Days,” Shay said. “And she’d either have to have a high tolerance for pain or be taking sedatives, but you have to be careful with those. Some drugs cause excess bleeding. It’s critical she not move at all while the work is being done.” She returned the phone to Sharp. “Why are you asking about her? Did she know the kid?”

Sharp tucked the phone back in his pocket. “No. She was found dead in a park recently.”

“Who is she?” Shay asked. “Some kind of performance artist?”

“I’m not really sure.” He wasn’t ready to share case details at this point.

Reggie shrugged. “We make no judgments here. Art has different meanings to each individual. Look, if you have more questions, send Shay in to get me, but I’m on the clock and have to get this job done.”

Sharp nodded to Reggie. “Sure, thanks. You’ve been a big help.”

Sharp followed Shay to the front. “What about the other guy hanging out with Jimmy in the back room. Does he have a name?”

“I can look up the name in the appointment book,” Shay said.

She pulled up the day Jimmy Dillon had visited the salon. “There were three guys in here about then. But I think the one you’re looking for was named David. Like I said, he paid in cash. Most of our customers pay cash. Reggie charges 20 percent more for credit cards.”

“What kind of tattoo did David get?”

“I do remember that. It was a woman’s face.”

“Did he happen to mention who the woman was?”

“Said it was his girlfriend. People get their significant other inked on their skin all the time. Half the time they’re back a year later getting it covered or removed.”

“And the other two men?”

She pulled up their names and read them off to Sharp. One got his baby’s name inked on his arm, and the other client hadSHE’SWITHSTUPIDstenciled on his left breast.

He noted the first client’s information. “You stared at the picture of the woman on my phone long and hard. Did you see any detail you didn’t want to mention in front of Reggie?”

She hesitated. “Like I said, the work is just incredibly detailed. I doubt there are more than a handful of artists in the region able to create such fine work.”

“You have any names?”

She met his gaze briefly but couldn’t hold it. “Not off the top of my head, but I can ask around.”

He wasn’t sure if she was nervous by nature or hiding something. He took a risk and fed her a detail. “The woman in the picture is dead. And the work on her face was done in the last month. I’m trying to piece together her last weeks.”

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