Page 71 of The Dollmaker

Dakota stared at her, his face an unreadable mask.

“If you want more details, talk to Elena Hayes. She was the fourth girl in the picture. She was living abroad for a couple of years, but I saw in one of the alumni magazines that she was back in Richmond. I know the cops interviewed her after Kara was found, as they did me. She might have been afraid to talk more candidly then. Her father was strict and would have punished her if he’d known she’d been at a party drinking with a bunch of strangers.”

“I’ll talk to Vargas, and we’ll go see her,” Dakota said. “Anyone strike you as odd at the funeral or in the days leading up to the party?”

“At the funeral, I was on pain meds and couldn’t stay long. I spoke to your mother. She was sweet but so overwhelmed. Your stepfather was also a mess.”

Dakota tapped his index finger on the table, and she sensed he was struggling to remain objective. “Diane’s mother said she was vain. She was convinced she’d never ruin her face.”

“She wasn’t stuck-up about her looks in college, but she was conscious of them. And I agree, unless there was a really drastic change in her mental makeup, she wouldn’t have disfigured herself.”

Tessa stared at the pictures of Kara, Diane, Elena, and herself. Pathologists, like cops, could distance themselves from death so they could effectively analyze the chain of evidence. But she found it nearly impossible now.

Dakota reached for his phone, took snapshots of the images, and sent them off.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Sending them to Garrett Andrews at Shield Security. If anyone can pull a detail out of these, it’s him.”

Fatigue had seeped deep into Tessa’s bones. She’d be no good at work tomorrow if she didn’t get some sleep. “I’ve got to get going,” Tessa said. “I’ve an early call in the morning. Let me know if I can help.”

“Would you be willing to meet with Andrews at Shield?” Dakota asked.

She rose, hitching her purse on her shoulder. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

He followed her to the door, which he reached before her. He gripped the knob but didn’t open it. “Thank you.”

“Sure.”

So close, and yet the distance between them felt endless.

“Why did you kiss me the other day?” he asked suddenly.

“Why?” Good, he’d been thinking about the kiss. “Because I’ve dreamed about it for months. I wanted to see if you tasted like I remembered.”

“Nothing’s changed, Tessa,” he warned. “I can promise you we’d be great in the sack and terrible out of it.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I’m not going to chase you, Dakota. If you want this marriage, you’ll have to meet me halfway. But I’m not going anywhere this time.”

A frown wrinkled his brow. She sensed he wanted her. The marriage. She leaned slightly toward him to make it easier for him to touch her.

Instead, he opened the door with a snap. “I’ll think about it.”

She straightened as the night air chilled her skin. “Right.”

“Tessa?”

“Yes.”

“Be careful. Keep your eyes open.”

“Don’t worry about me, Dakota. I can take care of myself.”

The woman woke up in stages. It took time to shake off the smothering fatigue weighing on her like bricks pressing against her chest. When she opened her eyes, her vision was clouded, and she had to blink several times for it to clear. Finally, a white ceiling. She blinked again, pushing away another wave of tiredness ready to pull her back to sleep. She shook her head, grimacing at the dull headache behind her left eye.Think.What happened?

She remembered walking home. She’d been tired and ready to call it a night. And then, there’d been the man on the sidewalk. Smiling. Charming. She thought she might know him. And then a sting of electricity before her mind went blank.

Her heart beat a little faster as she thought about the memory, hoping it was a dream. Gathering her tattered energy, she tried to sit up. Her head spun, and for a moment she closed her eyes and waited for the world to settle. Finally, she glanced at her chest and the white cotton nightdress with fine lace and wondered where it came from. It wasn’t hers.

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