Page 54 of The Dollmaker

Sharp repeated the questions he’d asked Ms.Heath. “The place was always clean and well kept,” Bauer said. “No pets. I changed the filters. Her place was always nice. I was here a week ago, and I noticed the dead plants. That’s not like her, so I took extra time walking the property.”

“And?” Sharp prompted.

“In the back alley, I found a doll shoved in her trash bin. The can was already full, so the doll was sitting on top. It seemed odd. Garbage hadn’t been picked up the week before, so it was lucky I saw it.”

“What kind of doll was it?” Sharp’s gaze locked on Vargas, who looked up when he saiddoll.

“One of those old-fashioned types. White face. Heart-shaped lips. Frilly dress. If you saw one, you’d recognize it.”

Sharp’s muscles snapped with interest. “What did you do with the doll?”

Bauer shrugged. “It was in the trash.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Sharp said.

Bauer hesitated. “I took it. It was in perfectly good shape, and it seemed a shame to waste it.”

“Do you still have the doll?”

“I was going to give it to my daughter.”

“We need to see it,” Vargas said. “It might be evidence.”

“But it was in the trash.”

“It’s evidence. I need you to bring it to the station, or I can send a patrolman to your house for it.”

“I get off in a few hours. Send someone by the house.” Bauer rattled off his address. “Can I get it back?”

Sharp shook his head. “If it’s linked to a case as evidence, not until the case has been settled.”

“How long is that?”

“Years,” Vargas shot back.

“Why are you all so worried about a doll?” Ms.Heath asked.

“I can’t say,” Sharp said.

Bauer tossed a glance at Sharp, then headed back to his truck. “I’ll get you the doll.”

Sharp followed and handed him his card. “Thanks.”

As Bauer drove off and Ms.Heath locked the home, Sharp and Vargas moved several paces away before Sharp said, “Recent medication in the cabinet tells me she was being treated for anxiety within the last couple of months.”

“So what was stressing her out?”

“I don’t know if she was having other issues or perhaps figured out someone was watching her and sending her little keepsakes that made her uncomfortable.”

Vargas’s cell phone chimed with a text message. She checked and nodded. “Department of Motor Vehicles just sent over a picture of Diane Richardson without all the crap on her face. Despite it being a DMV photo, she really was a stunning woman. I’d have killed for those cheekbones.”

He accepted the phone and studied the black-and-white photo. Memories stirred in the shadows. “DianeE. Richardson.” He said the name hoping to jostle free a memory.

Vargas checked her notes. “Diane Emery Richardson. Richardson was her married name. She has been divorced four years.”

“Diane Emery?”

“You say her name like you know her.”

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