Scene of the Crime: Deadman's Bluff (10 page)

“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.

* * *

T
HE
S
ANDMAN.
H
E 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.

He could still hear the sound of his father’s boots on the front steps when he got home from work. He could tell by the weight of those footsteps against the wood if it was going to be a good night or a bad one...and most nights were bad.

Any small infraction of one of his father’s endless household rules resulted in a beating. It was rare they completed a meal without his father backhanding him for one thing or another.

It was funny, when he’d finally grown up and left his mother and father’s house, he’d realized he hated his father, but he hated his mother far more.

Mothers were supposed to love and protect their children, and she’d done nothing to protect him. She’d turned a blind eye to the abuse, leaving him to feel afraid and powerless in a volatile childhood.

But now he had all the power. He was the Sandman and nobody could touch him. When he’d first seen Rebecca Cook, he’d recognized his destiny. There had been something about her that had reminded him of his mother when he’d been young and the rage that he’d fought against for most of his life had finally reached maturity.

Rebecca had been his first and Vicki Smith had been his second. He hadn’t known the name of the dark-haired beauty he’d encountered at the rest stop just outside Amber Lake, but he’d known the moment he’d seen her that she would be his third.

He should have taken her right to the dunes that night, but he hadn’t. He’d waited until midafternoon to take care of her and it had been his first mistake...one he wouldn’t make again.

That mistake had allowed her to live. Tamara Jennings. He hadn’t known her name when he’d buried her in the sand, but he knew it now. He also knew she had amnesia. It was an interesting dilemma...he couldn’t be sure what she saw or heard during her time with him, couldn’t know for certain if she could identify him or not.

It really didn’t matter. He intended to rebury her as soon as the opportunity presented itself to him. He didn’t want to give her time to remember. She had been his chosen third victim, the woman with dark hair and something special that had ignited memories of his mother.

Yes, she was his chosen one and nothing had happened since then to change his mind.

Chapter Six

“This is a good thing, right?” Tamara asked as she picked up her fork and knife once again. “Each time I remember something I put another piece in the puzzle and eventually I’ll have all the pieces back.”

Her eyes shone bright and while Seth wanted to share in her excitement he couldn’t help but be afraid for her, afraid that when she had all the pieces she’d never find her smile again, she’d never get over the trauma of whatever had happened to her in those missing hours, might never recover from the fright of being inside the dunes.

He was ambivalent about her getting her memories back. He wanted her to retrieve any information that might help him get a killer behind bars, but he was also aware of the fact that once she had the puzzle of her past back together, it would be time for her to return to her life, and he was surprised to discover that he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her yet.

“Seth?” She looked at him expectantly and he realized he hadn’t replied to her.

“Yeah, I guess it’s good that your memories are coming back to you,” he agreed as he sliced into the steak in front of him. “So, you remember your ex-husband and your marriage?” He wasn’t sure why but he was intrigued to know what kind of a man she’d married and why that marriage hadn’t worked.

“I do.” She reached for the salt and pepper and topped her baked potato with both. “Jason Jennings, hotshot real-estate investor and womanizer extraordinaire.”

“Is that why the marriage broke up? He was a cheater?” Seth asked. He couldn’t imagine a man stupid enough to cheat on a woman like Tamara.

“That, among other things,” she replied. “Jason and I were an ill-fated match from the beginning. He loved people and parties and I preferred quiet nights at home. He liked flashy cars and big houses and I didn’t care about those kinds of things. I just wanted a couple of kids and a loving husband. We were married about a year when I realized he also liked other women.”

She took a sip of her wine and then frowned. “That’s all I remember,” she said curtly, but her eyes had gone the dark blue of unpleasant thoughts, memories she apparently wasn’t ready to share with him or hadn’t yet fully accessed.

“To be honest, the divorce was a relief for both of us and we parted ways as friends,” she finally continued. “It’s funny, I can remember my marriage and my brief life with Jason, but I can’t remember what finally broke us apart for good or what my mother and father looked like. I don’t know what my apartment looks like or why I left it to come here.”

“It will all fall into place,” Seth replied in an attempt to calm her. “And if it doesn’t, there’s always that therapist you can see.”

She shook her head. “I’m not ready for that yet. My memories are coming back on their own. I don’t think it will be long before I’ll have them all.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the appearance of Deputy Raymond Michaels and a thin, nervous-looking woman at his side. “Agent Hawkins, Ms. Jennings,” he greeted them with a smile. “I see you two have found the best place to eat in the area.” He threw an arm around the brunette next to him. “This is my wife, Sue. We’re here celebrating our fifth anniversary.”

“Congratulations,” Tamara and Seth said at the same time.

Michaels squeezed his wife close to his side. “Thanks. Enjoy the great food and I’ll see you in the morning at the office,” he said to Seth.

Seth watched the two of them as they left to follow the hostess to their table. “You don’t like him,” Tamara said.

He looked at her in surprise. “What makes you think that?”

“Your eyes have gone flat and I can feel some tension coming from you.”

He grinned at her. “You’d make a good cop.”

She returned his smile. “No, I’ve just been hanging around you long enough to recognize some of the subtle signals you give off. Why don’t you like him?”

“I interviewed the three kids that were on the dunes with me when you were found today and all three of them complained about Michaels being a bully.” Seth found it disconcerting and not in an unpleasant way that she’d been able to read him so well. “He just strikes me as the type of man who swaggers around town during the day and then goes home and beats his wife and kicks the dog to pass the evening.”

Tamara flashed a glance at the couple. “She looks like a woman who either doesn’t have a voice or is afraid to find one.”

“I’d bet on the latter.”

She reached for a piece of the fresh-baked bread and slathered it with butter. “Did the guys you talked to today give you any information you didn’t already have?”

“Nothing about the crime but a little bit about their personal lives. Jerome Walker seemed like a nice kid from a good family. He’s home for the summer from college and wants to graduate with a business degree. Ernie Simpson works at the hardware store and, although he didn’t mention it, Tom told me Ernie’s father is the town drunk.”

“And the other young man?”

“Sam Clemmons.” Seth frowned as he thought of Sam. “Hates his parents, lives by himself in a shanty he rents at the edge of town. His whole life seems to be riding the dunes.”

He’d found Sam hard to read, with a touch of a temper when pushed hard. “Sam has been at the scene each time a woman has been discovered.”

Tamara’s eyes widened. “So, is he a suspect in the murders?”

“I’m calling him a person of interest at this point.” She had such beautiful eyes. If he looked into their blue depths for too long he wanted to fall into them. He wondered what they’d look like darkened with passion or lazy with sexual contentment.

He grabbed a piece of the bread, irritated by his wayward thoughts. “Anyway,” he continued, “tomorrow I’m interviewing Henry Todd, who was dating Vicki Smith at the time of her murder and a couple of the kids that were at the party with Rebecca Cook before her death.”

Tamara leaned back and gazed at him thoughtfully. “It must be rough to work all day dealing with the darkness of murder and then go home where there’s nobody to talk to, nobody to share your day with.”

“Most of the women I’ve dated in the past don’t want to hear about my day at work,” he replied.

“Then you’re dating the wrong kind of woman,” she replied. “I find it all fascinating.”

He held her gaze and for a long moment, their mutual attraction was palpable in the air. Her words forced him to think about those nights alone in his apartment, when he’d wished for somebody to talk to, somebody who might partner him through life.

Something about Tamara made him think about having a soft place to fall at the end of a long, difficult day and no other woman had ever made him think of such a thing before.

Thankfully after dinner as they lingered over coffee their conversation was light and easy with topics like the summer heat ahead and the antics of the adorable puppy, Scooter.

It was almost ten o’clock by the time they got back to Linda’s place. A note on the table indicated that Linda had already gone to bed and Samantha was spending the night with a girlfriend.

The house was quiet and even though it was officially the end of the evening, Seth was reluctant to tell Tamara good night.

“One final nightcap?” he asked as he wondered how he managed to be standing so close to her.

He heard the hum of the refrigerator just behind him and smelled the floral scent of her perfume, felt the heat of her body radiating toward him as if to seduce him even closer.

“I don’t think so. It’s been a long day,” she replied, but she didn’t step back from him or make a move to go to her bedroom. “Thank you for the lovely meal and the company.”

“I enjoy your company,” he replied. He probably should be telling her that it had been all business, that he’d wanted her seen around town and that he’d wanted to get an initial impression of Henry Todd. He should not be telling her that he liked being with her for no other reason than she was who she was.

“Do you think the killer saw me tonight?” she asked, as if catching part of the wavelength of his thoughts. She took a step closer to him. He didn’t know if it was because the thought made her afraid or if it was because she felt the simmering tension in the air, a tension he didn’t want to feel but seemed unable to control.

“I don’t know...maybe,” he replied. Anything else he might have said stuck in his throat as she took another step closer to him.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Seth.” She moved close enough to him that her body was mere inches from his. Her cheeks grew slightly pink as she continued to look up at him. “I know it’s probably not a good idea, but I want to kiss you...I really need you to kiss me.”

“It’s definitely not a good idea,” he replied even as he reached to bring her body tight against his. She melted into him, all warm curves and fragrant softness. “In fact, it’s probably the worst thing we could do,” he said as his lips touched hers. With that simple touch, he knew he was in trouble.

She leaned into him and reached up to wrap her arms around his neck as she opened her mouth to him. As he followed her lead and swirled his tongue against hers, igniting a new fire of desire inside him, he knew he was taking advantage of her, of her vulnerable state, but at the moment he couldn’t summon the strength to stop.

Instead he reached up and tangled his hand in her long silky hair and momentarily lost himself in the sweet pleasure of the heat of her mouth, the overwhelming presence of her so intimately against him.

He wanted nothing more than to carry her into the guest bedroom and make love to her. He wanted to see her naked against the sheets, wanted to move his own naked body against hers, into hers.

And that would be a huge mistake. This was a huge mistake. Although he didn’t want it to stop, reluctantly he broke the kiss and stepped back from her, his heart beating more quickly than it should.

She stared up at him, her eyes slightly glazed and midnight-blue. Just by looking at her his desire heightened and his resolve to stop anything else that might transpire between them wavered.

She reached a hand up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and he couldn’t help but notice that her hand trembled. She wanted him. And he wanted her. And the situation they found themselves in couldn’t be far more removed from real life.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Tamara.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, as if afraid of what they might do if left to their own volition. “I find you ridiculously attractive and there’s nothing I’d like better than to take you to bed and make love to you all night long. But it wouldn’t be fair to either of us. When this is all over we both have lives to return to. I don’t want to see either one of us get hurt.”

“Logically I agree,” she said and her voice held a huskiness of barely suppressed emotions. “But emotionally and physically I want you, Seth.”