Scene of the Crime: Deadman's Bluff (13 page)

She’d had way too much time to be in her own thoughts, to attempt to sort out what had happened to her and how she felt about Seth. It bothered her that whenever she consciously reached for any memories of her former life she felt not only a knot of anxiety but also a sweeping grief that made no sense.

She was certain the grief had nothing to do with whatever had happened to her here in Amber Lake, but rather had its seed in the former life that she couldn’t remember.

Although she wasn’t sure what she thought about Deputy Michaels, she was grateful for him allowing her to get out of the little room that smelled of stale coffee and male for a few minutes.

“So, still nothing happening up here?” Raymond touched the side of his head.

“Nothing worthwhile,” she confessed. “Just bits and pieces that don’t help your investigation at all.”

“But you are starting to remember some things,” he replied.

She nodded. “A few, although nothing of consequence to the case.”

“Who knows, maybe in just the blink of an eye it will all come back to you.” His dark brown eyes held hers long enough that she was grateful that it was their turn at the counter to order.

She got a cheeseburger and fries and a diet cola while Raymond ordered one of the meals that had a sandwich with enough burger to make a full cow. She protested when he paid for hers, but he insisted he wasn’t paying, that it was on the Amber Lake Sheriff’s Department.

“You know you’re our best chance for a break in this case,” he said as they pushed out the door to walk back to the office. “At this point we don’t have jack.”

“We can’t even be sure that when I get my memories back it will have the information you need to make an arrest,” she replied. “It’s possible that I didn’t see the face of the person who attacked me.”

“But it’s also possible you did,” he countered. “You’ve got to let us know when your memories come back. Anything you remember might be a clue and we need to know what’s in that head of yours.”

At that moment she saw Seth approach them from across the parking lot. He walked in long strides, his handsome features set with a rigid anger she’d never seen before. Even before he reached them she could feel the wave of rage that radiated from him.

“What’s up?” Raymond asked.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Seth asked the deputy as he drew closer. He barely shot a glance at Tamara and then once again glared at Raymond.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I got us some lunch.” Raymond straightened his shoulders, obviously not liking Seth’s aggressive tone. “It was after noon and I knew she hadn’t had anything to eat.”

“Deputy Michaels, this is my case and this is my witness. You don’t talk to her without my permission. You don’t even look at her unless I tell you it’s okay, and you sure as hell don’t remove her from safe custody to get some lunch.”

“Take a chill pill, Mr. Fed Man,” Raymond said with more than a touch of belligerence. “I just figured
your
witness might need something to eat and would like to take a short walk. I had it all under control. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.”

He didn’t wait for Seth to reply, but with a sigh of disgust, he stalked away toward the office. Seth immediately turned to Tamara, his eyes the color of ice. “Are you all right?”

“Got my burger and fries, I’m golden,” she said in an attempt to lighten his mood.

He raked a hand through his hair and motioned for them to follow after Raymond. “I went to find you and you weren’t there. I...I freaked out. I thought maybe...” He allowed his voice to drift off as he drew a deep sigh.

She realized how fearful he’d been when he hadn’t been able to find her and her heart cringed. “I’m sorry, Seth. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just assumed you knew what was going on when Deputy Michaels invited me to take the walk with him to get lunch.”

“It’s all right,” he replied as they began to walk. “I guess I hadn’t realized how much on edge I’ve been until I walked into the break room and you weren’t there.” He kept his gaze focused on the building in front of them. “I didn’t realize how important you are to me...to this case,” he quickly tacked on as if in afterthought.

A dangerous spin of want whirled through her as she smelled the familiar scent of him, gazed at the handsome features now set in stone. Too close. They were definitely getting too close emotionally, and Tamara knew that was a mistake, but wasn’t sure how to halt it from happening.

She was falling in love with Seth and that frightened her almost as much as the memories she kept repressed.

When they reached the office they went back into the break room. Apparently Raymond had decided to eat his lunch at his desk for they had the room to themselves.

“Want some of my fries?” she asked as she settled in at the table.

“No, thanks.” He went to the vending machine in the corner and bought a soda and a prepackaged sandwich, then sat across from her. “Did Raymond give you a hard time?” he asked.

“Not at all. He asked me a bunch of questions about my memory, but I think he was just curious. Why?” She looked at him closely and noted that his features still looked harsh.

“There’s something about him that I don’t like.” Seth unwrapped his sandwich and frowned at it thoughtfully. “I keep thinking what, other than being drugged, would make a woman lie down in the sand without putting up a fight? Maybe a sheriff or a deputy with a gun?”

Tamara gasped. “Are you telling me you don’t trust the people you’re working with?”

His frown deepened and for the first time his gaze met hers. Cold and distant, keen with intelligence, his gray eyes stared at her for a long moment before replying. “I’m telling you that at this moment there are only two people I really trust. Me and you, and that’s it. Everyone else in this one-horse town is on my list of potential suspects.”

Tamara picked up a French fry but suddenly discovered she’d lost her appetite. If she was to believe as Seth did, then she had nobody on her side, nobody she could trust except him, and that only made their emotional connection stronger.

One thing was certain. One way or the other she had a feeling that when it came time to leave Amber Lake she was going to be damaged. Whether that damage came from the memories of the crime against her resurfacing or from loving Seth, only time would tell.

Chapter Eight

Mark Willoughby was a burly man with dark hair and a chin that thrust outward as if he was expecting a fight at any moment. He eased down into the chair opposite Seth and even though his lips curved into a smile, it was obvious by the seething emotion in his eyes that he was ticked.

“You don’t look happy to see me,” Seth said as he leaned back in his chair across from his ex-brother-in-law.

“I wouldn’t exactly call this a happy family reunion,” Mark replied. “So cut the crap and tell me why I’m here.”

“Vicki Smith.” Seth watched intently Mark’s reaction to the name.

The only response was a slight narrowing of Mark’s green eyes. “What about her?”

“I understand you were seeing her at the time of her murder.” Again Seth watched intently for any telltale subtle expression that might reveal something Mark didn’t know he’d given away.

“Seeing her sounds a little more serious than what was going on. Vicki and I had dinner together a couple of times before she was killed. That’s all, just a couple of casual dinners. She was still totally hung up on Todd. We were just friends, that’s all.”

He’d gone on long enough that it had begun to sound defensive. “Did you beat her like you beat my sister?” Seth asked.

Mark jerked up in his chair, his chin thrust forward as he fisted his hands on the top of the table. “You’re out of line, Seth. I never laid a finger on your sister, never.”

He unfisted his hands and appeared to relax against the back of the chair. “I won’t deny that I made a lot of mistakes in my marriage to Linda, and I’m sorry every day for those mistakes, but I was never violent with her.”

“But you hated her when the two of you divorced,” Seth said.

“I didn’t want the divorce. I wanted my family to stay intact more than anything. I’ve never gotten over Linda.”

“And maybe that’s why you’re murdering dark-haired women who remind you of her?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mark scoffed. “I know you’ve never liked me, that you never thought I was right for your sister, and I might have been a controlling ass when I was married to her, but I’m not a murderer. Jeez, Seth, how could you even think of me that way and allow me to have my daughter living with me half the time?”

“When was the last time you saw Vicki Smith?” Seth asked, trying to take the personal out of the conversation.

“Two nights before her murder. We had dinner together. Of course she insisted we eat at the Golden Daffodil. It was obvious she wanted Todd to see her with me, maybe make him realize what he’d thrown away.”

“And after dinner?”

“I took her home, safe and sound. I don’t know what happened to her after that. All I know for sure is that I had nothing to do with her murder. Besides, the way I hear it Vicki’s murder is tied to Rebecca Cook’s death. I didn’t even know that kid and I sure had nothing to do with Tamara Jennings.”

Seth asked a few more questions and then released Mark. After he left the interrogation room Seth remained seated at the table, his thoughts a chaotic mess.

Was it possible that Mark hid such a hatred for Linda that he’d come up with an elaborate plan for murder? Kill three dark-haired innocent women as a ruse and then attack the object of his rage, thus confusing the investigators? Somehow he wasn’t sure Mark was smart enough, wily enough to come up with such a complicated plot. Besides, he and Linda had been divorced for years. If he was responsible, then why would he explode now? As far as Seth knew there had been no inciting incident, nothing out of the ordinary that would cause him to suddenly begin killing women. He and Linda seemed to have found a comfortable peace with each other, a peace that went beyond the sharing of their daughter.

And if his confusion about the crimes weren’t enough he had to deal with his conflicted emotions where Tamara was concerned. His heartbeat caught painfully in his chest as he thought of those moments when he’d been unable to find her in the building.

Raw terror had raced through him, and it hadn’t been the terror of an agent who had lost a key witness, but rather that of a man for a woman.

He didn’t want to go there. He didn’t want to feel the kinds of emotions she evoked in him. It was emotional suicide for him to allow himself to think there could be anything real, anything lasting between them.

She had a life someplace else, a life that hadn’t included him until somebody had buried her in a sand dune. He raised a hand and rubbed at his temple where a headache threatened to take hold.

He had two more interviews this afternoon and then he could call it a day. He expected nothing new to come from Rebecca’s best friend or one of Vicki’s coworkers, but he intended to leave no
t
uncrossed and no
i
undotted.

He’d even considered the possibility that the killer was a woman since there appeared to be no sexual motivation to the crimes. But he’d dismissed the idea almost as quickly as it had occurred to him. If the women had been basically comatose when taken to the dunes, it would have required a man’s strength to get them from a parking area to the place of their burial.

It had to be a man. But who? And why? And would Tamara ever retrieve the hidden memories that might solve the case? Certainly he had some men who were topping his suspect list.

Henry Todd appeared a likely suspect for Vicki’s death. It sounded like Vicki had become something of a stalker chick once Henry had moved on. Maybe she became such a pain he’d decided to get rid of her permanently. But that didn’t explain his reason for killing Rebecca Cook.

It was just after six when he called it a day and found Tamara in the break room. Her face wreathed into a smile and he wasn’t sure that she was glad to see him or just thankful her boredom was over.

It didn’t matter. Her smile warmed him like the sun after a cloudy gray day. “You ready to break out of this joint?” he asked.

She popped up out of the chair. “I can’t tell you how ready.”

“I thought maybe we’d stop by the pizza place on the way home. Order a large supreme to go.”

“Sounds like a great plan to me,” she agreed.

They were quiet on the way to the pizza parlor. When they got there, they ordered the pizza to go and sodas to drink while they waited.

“Just so you know, I’m probably going to pick off most of the pepperoni and eat it,” she said, finally breaking the long silence.

“Just so you know, I’m probably going to pick off all the black olives and eat them,” he replied.

“That makes us good pizza buddies.”

He smiled at her, knowing she was eager to hear what he’d learned during the day but also aware of the fact that she was giving him time to unwind.

She would make a perfect life partner. She seemed to know instinctively what he needed before he’d identified the need. She understood what he did for a living and that it was a large part of who he was as a man.

He took a sip of his drink and stared around the restaurant, willing away these kinds of strange thoughts. For years he’d told himself he was satisfied being alone, cooking for one and having his space to himself.

But Tamara made him think of dinners for two, of conversation to fill the long hours of an empty evening. She made him think of making love to her before closing his eyes to sleep, awakening in the morning to share coffee across a kitchen table.

He was grateful when the kid behind the counter announced their pizza was ready for pickup. He grabbed the box and together he and Tamara headed back to his truck.

“We’ll eat first, and then we’ll talk about our days,” he said as they pulled away from the restaurant.

“Does that mean you want me to keep my mouth shut unless it’s open stringing mozzarella cheese?” she asked, her voice filled with the lightness of a tease.