Scene of the Crime: Deadman's Bluff

by Cassidy, Carla

  He escaped out of the house and into the fresh early-morning air, wondering what in the world he had just done pretending he and Tamara were going out on a date tonight, wondering why the idea of being out on a date with her filled him with the same kind of wistful longing he’d momentarily seen in her eyes.

  He started his truck and clenched the steering wheel with a sense of determination. For the past couple of days he’d felt more like a babysitter than an investigator. As much as he enjoyed spending time with Tamara, as much as he hoped she’d regain her memories and solve the crime for them all, they couldn’t just sit around and wait and hope that that might happen.

  It was time to get to work...the tedious grunt work that usually solved crimes. They couldn’t depend on Tamara another minute. They needed to attempt to find the killer the old-fashioned way until Tamara was at a place where she could help them.

  If he discovered that Atkins’s team couldn’t keep up with him, that they weren’t up to his kind of investigation, then he would contact Director Forbes and request a couple more men to form a task force. He was hoping to work well with the locals, but he wouldn’t hesitate to call in reinforcements if necessary.

  As he stepped into the low, flat building that served as the sheriff’s headquarters, he smiled at the woman behind the desk at the same time that he heard Tom Atkins’s voice coming from a back room. The sheriff didn’t sound like a happy camper.

  “You can go on back,” the woman said as Seth flashed his badge. “They’re all there waiting for you in the conference room...last doorway on the left.”

  As Seth walked down the long corridor that led to the back of the building, he realized from the sound of things that Tom Atkins was definitely having a temper fit.

  Seth opened the door to the conference room and a dozen pairs of eyes turned his way. The dozen deputies were seated in chairs at a long conference table and Atkins stood at the head of the table, his chubby face flushed with residual anger.

  “Agent Hawkins,” he greeted Seth. “Please, join us.”

  Seth slid into a chair next to Deputy Raymond Michaels, the man who had brought him the files the other night.

  “Have you seen the morning paper?” Tom asked Seth.

  Seth shook his head. Linda didn’t have the local newspaper delivered and Seth hadn’t ventured out to find one that morning. A paper was slid in front of him and he stared at the front page in irritation. The headline read: The Sandman Attempts to Bury Another. There was also a grainy picture of Tamara being lifted out of her sandy grave by Seth. He scanned the accompanying article, his irritation growing as he realized it named not only Tamara but also himself and the fact that he was in town visiting Linda. The article had been written by Jeff Armando, reporter at large.

  He looked back at Tom. “It would appear there’s a mole in the room.”

  “And there’s nothing I hate more than moles,” Atkins replied as he directed his gaze to his men. “And if I find out one of you talked to Jeff, then I’m going to have your hide.”

  “Have you spoken to this Armando to see how he got the information?” Seth asked.

  Atkins’s frown deepened. “He has a right to protect his sources and all that First Amendment crap. Now, let’s get to work, but don’t think I intend to let this news item go. I’ll get to the bottom of it one way or another. Now, reports.”

  A young man with sandy-colored hair spoke up. “Deputy Aims and I spent all day yesterday checking out all the motels and anyplace that rents rooms to see if Tamara had registered anywhere to spend Monday night here in town. She wasn’t registered anywhere.”

  “So, she either intended to just pass through or check into a nearby motel without a reservation,” Atkins said.

  Another deputy spoke next. “Jack and I checked out all of the abandoned buildings, barns and sheds on the north side of town for the missing car. Obviously we didn’t find it. We plan on doing the south side today.”

  Tom nodded and looked at Seth. “When you called me last night Tamara had remembered eating at the café. Has she remembered anything else?”

  “No, but I’ve been thinking about the timeline on her particular case. We know she ate dinner at the café and then was found the next afternoon in the dunes. What we need to find out is if she was seen anywhere else in town by anyone during those hours.”

  He glanced toward the sandy-haired deputy who’d reported earlier. “We know now that she didn’t register at any of the motels and we can assume that she meant to leave town after dinner. But if she was taken by somebody immediately after she ate at the café, that means somebody kept her someplace alive until he took her to the dunes the next afternoon.” Seth didn’t even want to think about what might have happened in those missing hours.

  “So we need to check around and see if anyone saw Tamara after the café,” Raymond said. “Can’t we get her driver’s license photo copied to pass around?”

  Atkins nodded. “Already done. I have photos up here for all of you to carry throughout this investigation.”

  Seth’s admiration for Tom grew a notch. Initially when he’d met Tom on the dunes Seth had feared Tom was an ineffectual small-town putz who didn’t know his butt from his elbow, but Tom was proving Seth wrong. So far, Seth was impressed with both the sheriff and his team of deputies.

  Seth listened as Tom gave his men their duties for the day and then the room cleared, leaving only Tom and Seth. The lawman moved from the head of the table to sit across from Seth.

  “Surely you knew that you couldn’t keep two murders and another attempted one out of the public eye forever,” Seth said.

  Tom raked a hand through his thinning hair. “Nah, I knew it would eventually all become public. But it ticks me off that it’s possible one of my men talked. The article had too much inside information for me to think anything else. It even mentions the amnesia thing.”

  Seth looked down at the newspaper. “That information could have been leaked by somebody at the hospital. The photo looks like it was probably taken with a cell phone. Have you talked to the three guys who were there when she was found?”

  “I did an initial interview with all of them, but I’ve got them all scheduled to come in today to talk to you. I figured you’d want to interview each of them so Ernie Simpson is going to be here at nine. Jerome Walker is coming in at noon and Sam Clemmons is scheduled for three. I’ll set up more interviews with some of my other potential suspects for tomorrow.”

  Seth leaned back in his chair and frowned. “The Sandman. I hate it when the media gives the killer a moniker. Usually makes the perp feel more powerful, more important.”

  “I hate everything about this case,” Tom replied.

  “According to the reports I’ve read on the other cases, Rebecca Cook had only been dead four to six hours before her body was found early afternoon on the day after the party. We don’t know for sure when she went missing from the party.”

  Tom nodded. “She lived with two roommates who said it wasn’t unusual for Rebecca to hook up with somebody and not come home for a night, so they didn’t think anything about it when she didn’t come home after the party.”

  “And we don’t know how long Vicki Smith was missing before she was found in the dunes.” It was more a statement than a question.

  Once again Tom nodded. “True. She lived by herself. She worked her shift on a Saturday night and Sunday was her day off. Nobody saw her on Sunday and her body was found Monday in the early morning. The coroner set her time of death sometime Sunday night.”

  “So, it’s possible our perp kept her someplace for a while before he took her out to the dunes,” Seth said thoughtfully. “Tamara had to have been kept someplace, too, before she wound up in the dunes. We need to figure out a place where a person could keep another without anyone knowing about it. Tamara remembers hearing the scrape of a shovel in the sand. She remembers the sound of being buried alive.” Seth’s heart twisted as he thought of what she’d endured.

>   Tom’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Oh, God, that’s horrible. Does she remember why she didn’t fight back? Why we didn’t find any defensive wounds on any of the victims? I mean, how does a man get a woman to simply lie down in the sand and be buried?”

  “I don’t know, it’s got to be a drug of some sort, like succinylcholine or something like that,” Seth replied.

  “Succinylcholine?” Tom frowned.

  “It’s a drug that paralyzes the muscles. The victim would remain conscious and mentally alert, but would be unable to move. The body breaks it up quickly so it wouldn’t be evident in a blood test. Unfortunately, it’s also a drug that stops the heart after several minutes, so that can’t be the method he uses. These women were paralyzed but their hearts were still beating.”

  “So we need to add everyone who works at the hospital or in the medical field in town to our list of potential suspects,” Tom said, a new weariness in his voice.

  “Not necessarily,” Seth replied. “Although it makes sense that the killer would have some sort of medical background. Still, you can learn about and obtain almost anything on the internet these days.”

  “I just hope Tamara gets her memories back soon. Otherwise I’ve got to be honest with you, I’m not sure we’ll solve these murders before he hits again,” Tom said.

  “It does appear he’s on a timeline of thirty days or so,” Seth agreed.

  “And we don’t know if his miss with Tamara will make him act again soon or if we have the luxury of three weeks or so before another body shows up.”

  “Hurry up, you little punk.” Deputy Raymond Michaels’s deep voice drifted in from the corridor.

  “Stop pushing me,” a younger voice complained. “I’m not doing anything wrong so keep your hands off me.”

  Tom stood. “It sounds like your first interview subject has arrived. You know when I interviewed the three boys from the dunes on the night Tamara was found they all were tested for any kind of trace evidence, but we found nothing unusual on any of them.”

  “I know, and I hope you don’t take offense of me needing to speak to them again for my own investigation.”

  “No offense taken,” Atkins replied.

  Seth stood as well, ready to try to find answers that might stop a killer, the answers that might free Tamara from her amnesia and allow them both to get on with their lives.

  He didn’t think about why that thought caused a vague sense of dissatisfaction to slide through him. He was an FBI agent and this was nothing more than an assignment. He wouldn’t allow Tamara to mean anything to him except as part of a case that needed to be solved.

  * * *

  THE GOLDEN DAFFODIL was dimly lit at a quarter to seven when Tamara and Seth walked in and were greeted by an attractive blonde working as hostess.

  “Table for two?” she asked with a smooth, practiced smile. Seth nodded and she grabbed a couple of menus from beneath her desk and motioned for them to follow her.

  Samantha had insisted Tamara borrow a little black dress and a pair of high-heeled sandals for the meal out and now seeing the upscale interior and the formal attire of the waiters and waitresses, Tamara was grateful that she’d dressed up. She was also conscious of some of the other diners eyeing her with interest as they made their way to the table.

  Seth had come home from his day at the sheriff’s office with just enough time to quickly shower and change his clothes before leaving for dinner. They’d scarcely had a chance to talk and she was eager to hear over dinner what he might have discovered during the day.

  The hostess led them to a smoke-glass-topped table that boasted a slender vase with a bright yellow daffodil in the center. “Your waitress will be here shortly,” she said as she handed them each a menu.

  “You look very nice,” Seth said once they were alone.

  “You clean up pretty well yourself,” Tamara replied. Seth wore a pair of black slacks and a short-sleeved gray dress shirt that made his eyes almost silver in the dim room.

  That was the sum of their conversation when the waitress stepped up to their table. “Good evening,” she said with a bright smile. “My name is Kelly and I’ll be your server for the evening. Can I start you off with an appetizer?”

  “No, thanks, but how about two glasses of the house wine?” Seth said with a look at Tamara for confirmation. “Red or white?”

  She nodded. A glass of white wine sounded wonderful.

  As the waitress left to get the wine, Tamara opened her menu, but her gaze remained on Seth. “You had a long day.”

  “Definitely. Let’s get our orders in and then I’ll tell you all about it.”

  Fifteen minutes later, with orders placed and wine delivered, Tamara looked at Seth expectantly. “Let’s talk about your day first,” he said. “I need to take a few minutes to decompress before I tell you about mine.”

  She took a sip of the wine and then set the elegant glass back on the table. “I had a fairly quiet day. Linda and I had a nice lunch together and then she showed me some of the photos in your family album. You were a cute kid. I played with Scooter and Samantha for a lot of the day. Your niece is a sweetheart and that puppy is just too sweet for words. The only real excitement that happened all day was when Steven Bradley stopped by.”

  Seth frowned. “Steven Bradley?”

  “You remember, the young guy in charge of all things animal in Amber Lake,” she replied with a grin. “He said he just wanted to check in to see how Scooter was adjusting to his new home, but I have a feeling he might have a bit of a crush on your niece.”

  Seth’s frown deepened. “He’s got to be in his mid-twenties. He’d better not have a crush on Samantha.”

  Tamara smiled at his instant protectiveness. “I don’t think you have to worry, Samantha definitely isn’t interested. If she were, then you’d have cause to be concerned. Anyway, he was only there a few minutes. He played with Scooter, asked Samantha about his appetite and some other doggy questions and then left.”

  “Did you see the paper this morning?” he asked.

  “I saw it, not my best angle.” She shot a quick glance around the restaurant and then looked back at Seth. “I think probably most of the people in here saw the morning paper. I feel a bit like I’m on display.”

  Seth’s jawline clenched. “Yeah, Tom wasn’t happy with all the information that was in the article. He thinks there’s a leak in his department.”

  “From what I read, I’d say he’s right.” It had been strange that morning when Linda’s neighbor had brought the morning paper by. Seeing the photo of herself, being the front-page story had been unsettling.

  “The Sandman.” She shook her head. “The monster now has a name. Unfortunately the biggest thing that happened today was what didn’t happen...no more memories resurfaced.”

  “If I had my way you’d never have to remember what happened to you,” Seth said softly. “We’d solve this crime without you, you’d get all your memories back except the horrible ones and life would go on. And you’d never have to think about the sand or Deadman’s Dunes or Amber Lake again.”

  Her heart squeezed at his words and for a moment she couldn’t speak around the lump that formed in her throat. There was such a wealth of caring in the sentiment he’d just voiced and it shot straight to the hollowness in her heart.

  “Thanks,” she finally managed to say, “but I doubt if it’s going to work that way unless you got a bunch of clues during the day today.” She could tell by the expression on his face that it probably hadn’t been a productive day, but before he could reply their meals arrived, delivered by a handsome, dark-haired man who introduced himself as Henry Todd, the owner of the restaurant.

  “I couldn’t help but recognize you,” he said to Tamara as he set her plate before her. “I just wanted to personally come out and tell you how sorry I am for all that you’ve been through. Our town obviously hasn’t been nice to you.” Tamara fought the urge to squirm beneath his intense gaze.

  He st
ood too close, invading her personal space and she was grateful when he finally stepped away from her side and turned his attention to Seth. “And I understand I have an appointment with you tomorrow morning at ten to discuss some things.”

  “That’s correct,” Seth replied and Tamara noticed that his eyes were slightly narrowed and the color of hard flint. “But in the meantime we’re both starving and I’ve heard the food here is amazing.”

  Henry smiled in obvious pleasure. “I personally oversee the menu and everything that leaves my kitchen. This might be a small town, but everyone deserves the best that food has to offer.” He took another step back. “And now, please enjoy. Your meal is on me tonight.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Seth replied coolly.

  Henry smiled at Tamara. “For the beautiful lady, I insist.”

  Tamara watched as he sauntered back toward the kitchen, pausing long enough to stop and put his arm around their waitress and say something to her before disappearing into the kitchen.

  She felt Seth’s gaze on her and turned to look at him. “He’s a real smarmy charmer,” she said drily. “I wonder if he makes all the women he’s around feel like they need to shower off?”

  “Not your type?” he asked as he picked up his fork and knife to cut into the steak on his plate.

  “I like my men with a little less swagger and a lot more substance.”

  He raised a dark eyebrow. “You could tell that he’s arrogant and superficial just by that brief meeting with him?”

  Tamara picked up her own fork and knife to begin damage on the beef fillet in front of her. “Must be a woman thing,” she replied. “He reminds me of my ex-husband, Jason.”

  Her utensils clattered to the table as she stared at Seth. “Oh, my God, Seth, I remember Jason.” She paused a moment, allowing her mind free rein. “I remember bits and pieces of my marriage.”

  She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes as memories assaulted her, flashing in her mind so fast, so furiously she felt ill.

  * * *

  THE SANDMAN. HE LIKED the name they’d given him. It sounded mysterious and, in this case, crazy scary. It sounded like the stuff of nightmares for children, but there were no kids in the town of Amber Lake who needed to fear him. In fact, he liked kids, unlike his old man who had hated kids...hated him.