Pete Midgett filled the silence. “Let’s say you’ll be in about six-thirty. It’ll be light by then and we’ll start looking for her here in town.” He didn’t add that they might be looking for her dead body.
***
A vicious wave of nausea roiled Lin’s body as she fought her way toward consciousness. I’m going to be sick, her only conscious thought. She flung herself sideways dropping her head off the edge of the precipice she clung to, vomiting violently.
When nothing more would come up, she rolled her head back. The precipice turned out to be the edge of a bed, actually more of a narrow cot. There was no pillow. She was lying on a rough wool blanket, her cheek felt like it had beard burn. She struggled to get up and realized that her feet and hands were bound. She was lying on her side, her hands behind her back. She struggled to sit up, but another wave of nausea forced her down. She lay back and closed her eyes, waiting for it to pass. The stench from her earlier episode didn’t help. She took deep breaths, trying to clear her head.
Finally, the nausea subsided. She remained still to keep the vertigo at bay but opened her eyes to look around. It was dark, and she couldn’t really see where she was. All she knew was that she was bound and lying on a narrow bed somewhere. Then she became aware of another sensation. She was rocking back and forth; rather, the bed was rocking. That accounted for some of her dizziness. More deep breaths, she heard distant sounds of wind and rain. Gradually her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. She began to discern shapes. Her thoughts were still fuzzy, and she still felt sick. She knew if she tried to raise her head, she’d throw up again. Finally it hit her; I’m on a boat. The storm is still going on, and I’m on a boat somewhere. That’s why I’m rocking.
She tried to further assess her situation. She was in a small cabin on a boat. There was no sound of a motor, and there was no sensation of forward movement. The boat must be tied up somewhere. The wind and rough water were making it rock. Where was she? How did she get here? How long had she been here?
She tried to organize her thoughts, tried to remember what had happened, but everything was still so fuzzy; she began to drift back toward unconsciousness.
Lin wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she woke up again, but a small sliver of light was leaking through the blinds at a window high in the opposite wall. It was obviously morning but what day? Saturday? Sunday? Lin had no idea how long she’d been out. The boat was still rocking, and she could still hear the wind. Her mouth felt dry, and she had a headache, but in spite of the motion, her nausea seemed to have abated. She’d just decided to try sitting up again when she heard heavy footsteps above her head. Deciding that it might be better if she appeared to be still unconscious, she closed her eyes and waited as the steps drew nearer, seeming to descend a staircase. Finally, she heard the door open and footsteps crossing toward the bed.
“What the…? You fuckin’ bitch!” A rough hand snatched her up and shoved her back against the wall. Her eyes flew open as her head smacked against the enclosure. “You’ve ruined this place—throwing up all over the carpet.” Mike Clark swung back with his other hand slapping her hard before dropping her back down on the cot. “Ruined my shoes too. I ought to throw you over the side right now.”
Lin rolled back toward the wall, her face still smarting from the blow. Finally, she was able to catch her breath. Her tormentor seemed to be quieter, perhaps cleaning up his shoes. She could hear movement and curses under his breath, but he didn’t hit her again. Finally she gathered her courage and rolled back to face him.
“Is that what you’re here to do, throw me overboard?”
Mike Clark stopped wiping his shoes and stared at her, gradually breaking into a contorted grin. “Not today, Ms. High and Mighty Hanna. You get one more miserable day to live. Storm’s too strong today. Small craft warnings everywhere and the water’s too shallow here. You’re heading out to the gulfstream—maybe you’ll wash up somewhere in the British Isles if the sharks don’t finish you off. I’ll be back when things calm down.” With that he rose and exited the cabin. The lock clicked firmly in the door, and Lin heard his footsteps ascending. Soon the only sound was the wind and the rain. The storm that Lin now realized was her friend.
Chapter 24
Promptly at six-thirty Neal walked into the Sheriff’s office; the officer on duty motioned him back to the conference room, “Sheriff Midgett is still at the garage. He said for you to wait here, he should be back any minute now.”
Neal tried to remain calm, but he was fighting a losing battle. His hand trembled slightly as he pulled out the chair. He’d skipped eating, even coffee, fearing that he wouldn’t be able to keep anything down. In spite of their request last night, he’d not contacted Eloise and Tom when he got the four o’clock call. Somehow it seemed that if he voiced the news that the car had been found without Lin, his worst fears would be confirmed. When he’d left to come to Manteo, he’d decided to wait until after seven to give them more rest.
Now he began to wish that he had someone with him, someone to talk to. He knew that he had to keep himself together and stay calm or he’d be no help whatsoever. He was determined not to give up. Even if Lin had been robbed, she might still be found somewhere, perhaps injured but, hopefully, alive.
Just as he was picking up his phone to dial Tom, Sheriff Midgett came into the room. He eased his considerable bulk into one of the wooden chairs and placed a worn notebook on the table. Neal could see that he’d been up all night. His uniform was disheveled, and there were dark circles under his eyes.
“Well, we have a somewhat unusual situation here,” he finally said, thumbing through the notebook. “The interior of Ms. Hanna’s car yielded no significant evidence. There were no discernable prints on the steering wheel, the door handles, nowhere. We’d have expected to find her prints somewhere. Even if we couldn’t match them to any records for positive identification, there’d be prints—unless she always wore driving gloves.”
“She didn’t,” Neal responded, “she might’ve worn gloves yesterday because of the weather, but generally she didn’t so there should be earlier prints.”
“Maybe she’d recently had the car cleaned, inside and out.”
“No, I know she hadn’t. In fact, we’d talked about cleaning up her car and Kate’s this weekend, but the weather put an end to that plan. Her car needed cleaning up but she’d not done it yet.”
The Sheriff just gazed at his notes, thinking through what he’d learned. “They’re still working on the carpet and upholstery, looking for fibers and such, but so far nothing’s been found. The lack of any prints is a problem.”
Neal voiced what the Sheriff seemed reluctant to say, “That means that someone wiped down all the surfaces of that car’s interior when it was parked, and that person wasn’t Lin.” He realized the enormity of what he was saying and found himself almost choking on the words.
As he fought to maintain his composure he suddenly realized that a similar lack of prints had been found when Dorrie’s car was examined. He quickly reminded Pete Midgett of that fact.
“ Could there be a link here? Could the person who wiped Lin’s car clean have been the same one who cleaned Dorrie’s? We’d noticed that situation when Sgt. Parker had Dorrie’s car examined before her Dad drove it home, but then we thought maybe your men had cleaned it up before releasing it to him. Maybe the car hadn’t been checked earlier, since her death was found to be an accident.”
“That’s easy enough to find out,” the Sheriff reached for his desk set, “We keep good records of everything we do to vehicles in our possession—saves all kind of trouble later.”
After a short conversation with someone at the county garage he learned that Dorrie’s car had indeed been routinely checked for fingerprints and other evidence before there’d been any ruling in the death. It was also clean, just like Lin’s. Sheriff Midgett didn’t speculate on that finding, but Neal observed that he did make an entry into his worn notebook.
&n
bsp; “Well, time’s wasting,” the Sheriff heaved himself from his chair, “rain or not, we need to begin searching the downtown area for our lady.”
“I want to help,” Neal insisted. “I need to do something.”
Pete Midgett seemed to sense Neal’s level of desperation. “OK, he said, I’ve something you can do. My folks know best where to look along back streets, parking lots, and…” he didn’t add dumpsters and trash bins but Neal knew that was implied. “Why don’t you come with me and get some breakfast, I’ve been up all night, and I need something if I’m going to make it through the morning. You look like you need a boost too. By the time we finish, the shops will be opening for business. It’s a Saturday and the holiday season, and most are opening an hour or so earlier than usual. I want you to visit every shop you can find and ask if anyone saw your friend yesterday, and if so, when? Do you have a photo?”
Neal remembered that he had a couple of snapshots in his wallet that he’d taken when they were at Grand Canyon in September. “Yes, I do,” he responded, “but can’t I do something more?”
“ You can eat and get some coffee in you. If you don’t take care of yourself you won’t do anyone any good, c’mon.”
Neal reluctantly followed the lumbering Sheriff outside. “Leave your car here and ride with me,” Midgett urged. “Parking downtown is at a premium these days, and besides, you’ll be on foot when you’re making your rounds. Grab an umbrella if you have one, though.”
Neal shook his head , “There’s a hood on this slicker. I’ll be OK. Mind if I call my friend Tom? He might be able to help check the shops.”
“The more the merrier,” Midgett cranked up his patrol car and headed out.
Tom agreed to meet Neal at the restaurant. “I’ve already eaten, but I’ll join you for coffee. We wondered where you’d gone when we got up and saw the car missing.”
Reluctantly, Neal told Tom about Lin’s car being found but without her. “She might’ve been robbed,” he said, “she’d just picked up her ring you know, and maybe she had other purchases. I’m not sure about that but…”
“That ring was a beautiful piece, very valuable,” Tom completed his thought.
The Sheriff pulled into the parking lot of the Manteo Family Restaurant. In spite of the horrible weather, the lot was almost full. “Just an everyday place but the breakfast is hearty and the coffee is great,” he said.
Soon they were seated in a window booth with a steaming pot of freshly brewed coffee on the table. The smell of sizzling bacon warmed the air. Neal felt almost ashamed to admit it, but he was feeling quite hungry. He’d barely touched his soup last night, after all. He realized that Pete Midgett was right; he needed to keep himself in shape if he were going to be of any use in finding Lin, and he couldn’t allow himself to have any negative thoughts about the outcome of this search.
By the time his plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and grits had arrived, Tom was walking in the door. He was dressed for the weather, fully prepared to assist in the search. Neal was amazed at his energy and strength. He wasn’t sure how old Tom was, but he did know he’d been retired for many years.
Sheriff Midgett had grabbed a tourist map of downtown Manteo from a rack near the door. When they’d finished their meal and the plates had been cleared, he poured each of them another cup of coffee and spread the map on the table. He marked a path through town with a felt-tipped marker, beginning at the restaurant and proceeding through the business district, ending along the waterfront. He marked with an X the spot where Lin’s car had been found.
“I know that’s a pretty far distance from here, but she could’ve gone anywhere if she were running errands, and we might be able to build some sort of time line,” he said. “When you’ve checked all the shops—and I do mean all—give me a call and I’ll meet up with you.”
Tom grabbed a second copy of the map for himself and marked the same route. “ We can move more quickly if we divide up the streets,” he said.
“You guys do that, I’ve got to get going. Breakfast is on me,” the Sheriff grabbed the check and prepared to leave.
***
With the departure of Mike Clark, Lin felt somewhat relieved to be alone once more. At least nothing was going to happen to her right now. Her head was beginning to clear, and it was now light enough for her to see something of her surroundings.
She was obviously in a cabin on a boat; she’d already determined that. She rolled over on her back and lifted her feet trying to determine what bound her. It appeared to be duck tape, wrapped around her ankles. She was able to move her feet slightly, but couldn’t pull them apart. She’d been stripped of her shoes and socks. She looked around the room, but couldn’t see these, or her black pea coat she now remembered wearing. She rolled on her side again, trying to wiggle her hands. The tape around her wrists seemed somewhat looser. She couldn’t break the bond, but she was able to shift her hands enough to rub them together. The odor from where she’d been sick earlier was almost overwhelming; she turned away from the edge of the bed.
Gradually she began to push her body toward an upright, seated position. Using her feet to scoot herself backwards toward the wall. When she felt it firmly behind her shoulders she added pushing down with her hands each time she shoved her feet. It took several minutes, but she finally found herself in a seated position. It wasn’t any more comfortable, but at least she could better see her surroundings.
The cabin was larger than she’d originally thought but longer than it was wide; the bunk on which she sat took up about half the width. The ceiling was low. She knew that the door led to stairs that evidently went up to the deck. There was a small folding desk across the room, just a shelf really, attached to the wall by two brass chains. This gave Lin an idea. If she could get over there, maybe she could use the chains to further loosen the tape around her wrists. It was worth a try anyway.
Realizing that if she put her feet down near the head of the cot she’d simply step in the mess she’d made earlier, she tried to remain upright and shove herself along the blanket to the foot of the bed. It was an exhausting effort as she could only manage inches at a time. Finally, she’d moved far enough to avoid the mess. Scooting to the edge, she let her feet drop over the side and tried to stand. Without her arms to assist or balance her she toppled over onto the floor.
This won’t help she thought. She realized that she had to stand up if she had any chance of reaching the chains with her wrists. Slowly she began the laborious push toward the door. Maybe she could push up against it. She found she made more progress if she inched along on her side. Finally, she reached the door and managed to position her shoulders against it as she had positioned them against the wall earlier.
***
Tom and Neal lingered in the restaurant for a few moments, deciding which streets each would canvass and agreeing to meet at the spot where Lin’s car was found. Neal gave Tom one of the snapshots of Lin, “It’s not a close up but it’s a pretty good likeness so maybe someone will recognize her.” The waitress offered them cups of coffee to go which they were glad to accept given the blustery wet day they faced.
Outside, the friends split up, each heading toward their chosen streets. Neal pulled the hood of his slicker up snuggly around his head and neck, silently wishing that, wherever she was, Lin had some protection from this weather.
Making his way along the first street, Neal noticed that all the small shops seemed to be opened. It was still fairly early so there were only a few customers. He was tempted to skip places that he thought Lin would have no reason to visit, but remembering Pete Midgett’s instructions, he entered them all. No stone should be left unturned in this hunt.
At each place he inquired as to whether or not the employee had been working the previous day. He explained carefully that he was seeking to locate a missing person and showed the picture of Lin at the Canyon. He was careful to mention that the Sheriff’s department was searching for her, and he was seeking information to share.
Neal wanted to make certain that everyone he talked to knew this was a serious matter. The entire process took longer than he wished. Sometimes he had to wait while customers were served. The morning was fast disappearing.
Over and over he was told that no one had seen Lin in his or her place of business. He did enter one small shop that dealt in art and antiques where the proprietor recalled seeing her earlier the previous week, but he was certain she had not been in since that time.
After a full morning with no success, Neal was becoming discouraged. He decided to call Tom and see how he was doing, even though he felt certain Tom would’ve called had he learned anything. He was right about that; Tom was having no luck either. “Guess we’ll just have to keep at it,” Neal said, “I’ve still got a lot of shops to cover before I get to the waterfront.”
The unsuccessful hunt continued. It was well past noon when Neal’s cell phone rang. It was Tom. “I finally hit pay dirt,” he reported. “I’m at the coffee shop in that complex near the waterfront, and the guy here says he remembers Lin stopping in yesterday afternoon. He thinks it was about two , give or take.”
“Wait for me there,” Neal was glad that, finally, they had some type of information to share with the Sheriff. “I’m only a couple of blocks away, and I only have one more shop to check on this street.”
He ducked into the lone remaining business before the waterfront area. It happened to be a beauty salon. It didn’t take long to determine that Lin hadn’t been there. Neal had covered all his assigned streets. If Tom had completed his, all that remained were places in the waterfront district. Neal wanted to feel encouraged, but he realized that they still didn’t have much to go on. He was grateful that he hadn’t heard anything from the Sheriff, fearing that he would only be bearing bad news if he called.
Tom was waiting for him when he entered the coffee shop. The proprietor was waiting on a customer, but when he’d finished he came over to the table where they were sitting. Thankfully, Tom had already gotten coffee for them both. The warm liquid helped to dispel the chill of the rainy day.
Sandrift: A Lin Hanna Mystery Page 27
