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“In that case, he would be required to give a very expensive bouquet.”
“I don’t get it.”
“I see that. It’s a wonder you got out of your marriage alive. I’d have killed you.”
“I’ve no doubt.”
Large green trash cans lined the back of the building, and each was piled high with rubbish. Removing latex gloves from his pocket, Sharp opened the first of three cans. The first trash can held dozens of rags covered in paint, thinner, balled-up newspapers, and brushes. They needed a search warrant for the inside of the building, but the garbage placed outside was fair game.
“I love it when people throw out evidence.” Vargas pulled on latex gloves.
“Maybe he doesn’t care or he assumed the trash man would carry it all away before we got here.”
“Figured wrong, didn’t he? By the way, I received the doll from Mike Bauer. Very creepy doll if you ask me. It looks like Diane Richardson. I’ve asked the forensic guys to go over it. But I’m not holding out hope. Bauer wiped it clean so he could give it to his daughter.”
“Doesn’t hurt to check.”
Vargas lifted a broken paintbrush from the can. “A man who has given up on his art?” she asked.
“Maybe.”
The second can was filled with blank canvases, unopened paints, and drop cloths. The last can was packed full of frameless canvases twisted into tight rolls. Sharp pulled out several and unrolled them.
“They’re all of Diane,” Vargas said.
The paintings contained exquisite detail and created an eerily lifelike rendering. In each, she stared at the artist with a direct, almost amused gaze. Diane had been a stunning woman.
Vargas dug deeper into the can, pulling out several canvases that had been shredded with a knife.
“He’s upset about something,” Sharp said.
“Losing her is too painful? He can’t bear to look at her anymore?”
“Maybe.” Sharp thought about the surveillance footage of Madison at Diane’s front door. “Or he was angry and aggravated with her and wanted to permanently mark her as his own.”
Frustration deepened her frown. “I’m having his cell records pulled as well as his credit card purchases.”
He glared at the pictures. What the hell was going on with this son of a bitch? “Right.”
“You look like you could eat nails,” she said.
Sharp met Vargas’s gaze. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a Halloween picture of Kara, Diane, Elena, and Tessa.
The extra focus on Kara this last week had torn open a lot of pent-up emotion. He drew in a breath and handed her the picture. “My sister is the one on the far left.”
Vargas dropped her gaze to the picture and studied it. “She looks like you. I bet she ran that gang.”
The image coaxed a small smile. “She was bossing everyone in the house from the day she could sit up.”
“Who are the girls?”
“Look closely at the brunette to her right. She’s only eighteen, but she didn’t change too much.”
“Diane Richardson.”
“Diane Emery then, but it looks like her. And the woman to her right is Elena Hayes.”
“Who I haven’t been able to speak directly to on the phone,” Vargas said. “She responded to my voice mail with a text, but she’s yet to call me back.” Vargas tapped Tessa’s face. “And the other woman is Tessa McGowan?”
“Yes.”
Vargas shook her head as she dropped her gaze back to the picture. “Ah, Tessa. The wife. Hence the flower discussion?”
“No.”
She laughed. “So you think Tessa might have had a grudge against these ladies?”
“What? No. That’s not what I’m saying at all.”
Vargas didn’t look convinced. “She knew the two victims. When’s the last time Tessa saw your sister?”
She was analyzing the case as he would have if he were on the outside. But he wasn’t on the outside. Sharp was dialed in completely. “The night Kara vanished. She tells me the two fought. Over Madison.”
“This Madison?” she said jabbing her thumb back at his building.
“Yes.”
“Was it some kind of love triangle? Do I smell motive?”
“No. You do not.” He ground out each word.
“Hey man, don’t shoot the messenger. I have to look at this from all angles.”
“Understood,” he said, cooling his anger. “A car hit Tessa shortly after she left that Halloween party. Her leg was badly broken, and she suffered a concussion. She was in the hospital for days. She couldn’t have hurt anyone.”
“Maybe she was hit after she stashed Kara?” Vargas said. “Maybe her thoughts were distracted by a terrible secret and she didn’t see the car.”
“You’re stretching a lot.”
Vargas shrugged. “Tessa could have been working with someone else, like Stanford.”
“No.”
“All I know is Tessa was around when your sister vanished, and now Tessa shows back up and Diane Richardson is found dead. And let’s not forget, whoever held Diane knew how to use an IV, like a trained doctor would.”
“Not Tessa.”
“You rise to her defense too quickly.” Vargas slid off her latex gloves. “You still love Tessa, don’t you?”
“That’s not relevant.”
“It is, if it clouds your judgment.”
“My judgment is crystal clear.”
“You’ve got a reputation for laser focus. But I bet this is the first time your ex has been involved in a case. Or your deceased sister has been me
ntioned in connection to a case.”
“You’re missing the point.” He tapped the image with his index finger. “Look at what the girls in the photo are wearing. They were headed to a Halloween party, and three were dressed as dolls.”
Vargas studied the picture again. “So you think whoever took your sister overdosed her, and is now back and killed Diane, one of the girls in this picture.”
“I do. Tessa also spoke to her cousin, who was at Kara’s funeral. According to the cousin, Elena was the one that found Kara, and Kara had a lot of makeup on her face.”
“What kind of makeup?”
“I don’t know. The pictures taken at the crime scene were poorly done. I have no clear view of Kara’s face.”
Vargas tapped her finger against her hip. “So, assuming that is all true, we have a guy who likes to make dolls out of living women?”
“A dollmaker. Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Or are you trying to find a reason for your sister’s death other than the fact she took a walk on the wild side and took too many drugs?”
“Goddamn it, Kara didn’t take drugs,” he said, louder than intended.
Nonplussed, she pulled the picture from his fingers. “I’m not trying to trash your sister. I really am not. But I’m asking all the tough questions I would of any family member.”
He drew in a breath, locking down his frustration. “I get that. I do.”
“But you hate it. And believe me, I know how it hurts to have family questioned.”
How many times had he played the role of devil’s advocate to solve a case? “My sister didn’t use.”
“Okay. I’ll take you at your word on Tessa, your sister, and the cousin who remembers something Elena Hayes said twelve years ago. But,” she added more softly, “I will not ignore any evidence pointing me in a different direction, even if what I find ends up pissing you off. I’d be doing a disservice to your sister and Diane if I did.”
He released his breath. “Fair enough.”
“In the meantime, we need to get ahold of Elena Hayes.”
“Agreed.”
She studied the picture again. Reached for her phone and dialed. Phone to her ear, she said, “Calling Elena now.” After a pause, she held out her phone and they both listened to the voice-mail greeting. At the beep, “Elena, this is Agent Julia Vargas with the Virginia State Police. I need you to call me immediately.” She left her number and ended the call.
