Scene of the Crime: Deadman's Bluff

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Scene of the Crime: Deadman's Bluff Page 4

by Cassidy, Carla

She dressed in a pair of jean shorts and a T-shirt that Samantha had provided her. Samantha had won the battle of the dog. Today was Linda’s day off and the plan was for all four of them to head to the pound and pick out a puppy.

  Jane was looking forward to the outing, hoping that something she saw in the small town would release a flood of memories that would not only answer her questions about herself, but also give Seth what he needed to arrest a madman.

  He’d told her briefly the night before about the two murders that had occurred before she’d been discovered, and she’d gone to bed with the thought of those two women’s deaths weighing heavy on her soul.

  Remember. She had to remember, and yet the harder she tried the more fleeting any memories became. She felt as if they were a word on the tip of her tongue and the more she tried to bring that word into focus the deeper it hid inside her mind.

  She quickly ran a brush through her long hair and then pronounced herself ready to face whatever the day might bring. As she left the bathroom she met Samantha in the hallway. The teenager grabbed Jane by the hands and twirled her around.

  “Today’s the day,” she said with excitement. “After months of driving my mom insane, today I get my puppy.”

  Jane grinned, unable to help the positive flood of energy that filled her at Samantha’s happiness. Together they went down the hallway to find Seth and Linda in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in hand.

  “Help yourself,” Seth said and pointed to the coffeemaker on the cabinet.

  Jane nodded and tried to ignore how hot he looked with the early-morning sun shining on his thick dark hair and clad in jeans and a navy T-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders.

  “I hope you slept well,” Linda said as Jane joined them at the table. Jane nodded. “I guess the plan is to go to the Amber Lake Animal Pound today and get a puppy.” Linda’s enthusiasm was definitely less apparent than that of her daughter.

  Amber Lake. Although the town sounded vaguely familiar, Jane couldn’t imagine why she’d been here...Amber Lake, Oklahoma. The place evoked no emotional response inside her. It was obvious she didn’t live in the small town because nobody had recognized her. And how on earth had she been buried in the Deadman’s Dunes?

  Breakfast was a dog affair, with Samantha and her mother discussing all the things they’d need to buy for the new member of the family. Seth sat silently, his gaze lingering for long periods of time on Jane, making her feel both half-breathless and self-conscious.

  She was grateful when the time came for them to go to the pound. Maybe getting out for some fresh air and sunshine would make her feel less like a science specimen and ease some of the tension Seth’s gaze coiled inside her.

  Besides, Samantha’s excitement was contagious and drove away the edge of anxiety that threatened to take hold of her whenever she tried to think too hard about everything she didn’t know.

  It was just after nine when they left the house, the sun already hot overhead. Seth and Jane got into his pickup while Linda and Samantha got into Linda’s car. They planned to stop by a pet store on the way home and get some supplies. Seth’s plan was for him and Jane to leave the pound and then take a tour of the town in an effort to stir something of Jane’s missing memories.

  It felt more than a little surreal to have been buried in a sand dune two days before and now be on the way to the pound to pick out a puppy.

  To her surprise Seth kept up a steady stream of conversation as they drove through the small town of Amber Lake to reach the pound on the other side.

  “Linda and I were always close as kids but since my parents are both gone and since her divorce we’ve gotten really close,” he said. “Do you have brothers or sisters?

  She shrugged, wishing she knew the answer, wishing she could voice something, anything to him.

  “Samantha is a pip, isn’t she?” His voice was filled with affection and Jane smiled and nodded at him.

  “Linda’s had a rough time since her divorce from her husband, Mark. He was a real control freak and of course because of Samantha he’s still in Linda’s life.”

  As he talked, Jane looked out the window, trying to find a building, a place on the sidewalk, something that would jog her absent memory. But there was nothing, and by the time they pulled up to the large, flat building on the outskirts of town that comprised the Amber Lake Animal Shelter and Pound, Jane fought against a sweeping discouragement.

  Linda and Samantha parked next to them and as they all got out of the car a young man clad in a khaki uniform stepped out of the building. He had an open face, round blue eyes and light brown hair cut neatly. He appeared ill at ease, standing at attention as if guarding the animals within his care was the most important thing in his life.

  “Hi, Steven,” Samantha greeted him. “We’re here to adopt a dog.”

  He shot a quick glance at Seth and Jane and then gazed back at Samantha. “The place is nearly full, so you’ve got plenty to pick from.”

  “Steven, this is my brother, Seth, and his friend Jane,” Linda said. “And this is Officer Steven Bradley, the man in charge of all things animal in Amber Lake.”

  “Nice to meet you both,” Steven replied. He visibly relaxed and smiled at them all. “I usually don’t let people in until noon so I haven’t had a chance to clean all the cages yet, but you can come on in. The air conditioner stopped working yesterday and the city is supposed to be sending somebody out here today to fix it. If they don’t get out here soon, it’s really going to get unpleasant in there.”

  Steven turned and led them into the building where the smell of dog and cat was nearly overwhelming in the heat that was already building inside.

  Cage after cage filled the space, and the barking was nearly deafening. “Quiet,” Steven shouted and almost immediately the dogs either stopped barking or muted to soft whines.

  “That’s pretty amazing,” Seth said in the ensuing relative silence.

  Steven opened the door to a nearby cage where a small terrier immediately rolled on his back to show his belly. “Dogs need four basic things—consistent discipline, shelter and food and plenty of love.” He scratched the terrier’s belly and then closed the cage door.

  “I could tell you some real horror stories about the conditions I’ve found some of these animals living in,” he continued as they made their way down a narrow aisle. “People just bury their head in the sand when it comes to animal abuse. They don’t want to hear about it, they don’t even report it when they see it going on.”

  He shook his head and then smiled at Samantha. “I think I’ve got just what you want in the back...a litter of poodle-mix puppies that are just now old enough for adoption.”

  Jane listened to all this absently, fighting an overwhelming desire to run from the building. The air felt oppressive...suffocating, like the sand where she’d been buried. The animal scent was thick, making it hard for her to breathe.

  She pushed forward, wanting to see the puppies, but her anxiety grew with each step she took. She couldn’t breathe. Her chest ached with the effort. It was just like it had been in the sand. She felt as if she were dying.

  Out.

  She had to get out.

  She turned and bumped into Seth’s broad chest. She pushed him aside and slid past him and ran for the exit. She had to get out of this place.

  She hit the outdoor air and gulped in deep breaths. Spying a bench nearby, she walked over to it on unsteady feet and sat, lowering her head and hoping the sense of impending doom would pass as quickly as it had claimed her.

  Sand and suffocation, being buried alive—her chest tightened with the memory of helplessness.

  “Jane?” Seth’s soft voice sliced through the panic as he sat next to her on the bench. “Are you okay?”

  A moment of utter clarity filled her mind. She raised her head and gazed at him. “My name is Tamara. I’m Tamara Jennings.” Her heart filled with the certain knowledge of her statement.

  Seth sat back on the bench in
surprise. “Why haven’t you told us that sooner?”

  “Because I didn’t know sooner. I didn’t know my name until this very moment, and that’s all I know. I’m Tamara Jennings and I don’t know where I belong or what happened to me. I don’t know anything about myself except my name.” To her horror she began to weep.

  * * *

  SETH WAITED FOR HER to get her emotions under control, fighting the impulse to reach out and pull her into his arms. He had two initial thoughts. He liked the sound of her low, sexy voice, and the trauma she’d suffered obviously went far deeper than any of them had initially realized.

  “So, since I pulled you out of that sand dune you’ve had complete amnesia?” he asked once she’d stopped crying and had straightened her shoulders to meet his gaze.

  She nodded. “I’ve been so terrified by it. That’s why I didn’t talk. I had nothing to say and somehow I felt like if I did say something it would make all of this real, rather than some horrible nightmare. But, it is real, isn’t it?”

  “I’m afraid so,” he replied, his mind still working to take in the ramifications of what she’d just told him. It had to be some sort of a temporary amnesia brought on by whatever ordeal she’d gone through.

  “The good news is that with a name we can search DMV and find out where you’re from—that is if you have a valid driver’s license somewhere.”

  She frowned. “But the bad news is I can’t help you.”

  “Maybe not at this moment, but I’m hoping with a little time and maybe a little prompting we can get the rest of your memories back, and in those memories will be the information we need to arrest a killer.”

  She released a tremulous sigh. “A little prompting? Does that involve electric shock?”

  It took him a moment to realize she was joking. “Out here in Oklahoma we prefer the cattle prod method,” he replied, keeping a straight face and pleased by her ability to joke under the circumstances.

  “Amber Lake, Oklahoma.” She frowned. “It sounds oddly familiar but not in any real, meaningful way.”

  “Maybe we should check out that counselor Dr. Kane referred you to,” he suggested.

  “Not yet.” She frowned. “I’m hoping with just a little more time I’ll be fine.”

  At that moment Linda stepped outside. “Everything okay?” she asked worriedly.

  “Everything is okay,” Seth assured her. “Jane has found her voice and her name is Tamara.” He stood and held out a hand to Tamara. “I’m taking her back to the house so we’ll see you there when you’re finished with the puppy stuff.”

  He motioned his sister back into the building, not wanting the two women to waste time with small talk. He needed to get in touch with Sheriff Atkins to tell the man that Jane Doe had a name, and with that a true investigation could begin.

  Minutes later the two of them were back in his truck and he was deep in thought. With a name they could discover where she lived and from there they could gain all kinds of information in order to retrace the steps she’d taken that had led her to Amber Lake.

  Regular people thought they moved through life with anonymity, but in this day and age that wasn’t true. If you used an ATM, your picture was taken. Security cameras could be found in parking lots and convenience stores. Traffic cameras were at various intersections. Photos were snapped of people all the time without them knowing...good for victims and officers of the law, not so good for the average criminal. Unfortunately, Seth believed the man they sought wasn’t average.

  He glanced over to Tamara, who peered out the window as if seeking a point of reference. “Maybe tomorrow we’ll do some driving around town to see if anything knocks on your memory.”

  She turned to look at him. “I’m sorry about my amnesia issue. I know you were hoping that once I started talking you’d have all the answers you needed.”

  “Don’t apologize. Right now your mind is protecting you from whatever happened to you out at Deadman’s Dunes. Hopefully once you have some time and we convince you that you’re truly safe, then your memories will all come tumbling back.”

  “I hope so. It’s terrible not knowing anything about yourself. I don’t know where I live or how old I am. I have no idea what I do for a living or how I got here. I mean, did I take a bus? Did I drive here? And if I did then where is my car?” The questions bubbled out of her.

  “I know you didn’t take a bus here. There’s no service here in town. And by the end of the evening I should be able to answer most of those questions. I’ve got a lot of resources at the FBI to use to get us information about you now that we know your name.”

  She gave him a rueful smile. “Most people don’t want the FBI anywhere near their personal lives.”

  “True,” he agreed. “But most people know about their own lives.”

  Once again she directed her gaze out the window. She looked fragile, as if she was just now fully embracing the amnesia she’d been afraid to speak of.

  She hadn’t spoken of the questions he knew must be screaming in her mind...who had tried to kill her and why? Had somebody driven her to town and dumped her at the sand dunes? Was that why they hadn’t found a vehicle? He frowned. That didn’t make sense considering there had been two women before her, two victims who had been local.

  Once again Seth fought the need to reach out and touch her, to take the darkness from her eyes and watch them fill with the light of laughter.

  Instead he focused on all the things he intended to do, all the people he needed to contact when they got back to Linda’s place.

  With the information he could gain, it would be time to get to work. He’d spent the past twenty-four hours with Tamara hoping she’d speak, hoping she’d be able to give them a starting place.

  Now he had one, and he needed to get together with Atkins and discuss their plan of action for finding this killer and taking him off the streets. What he didn’t need to think about was how silky Tamara’s dark hair looked, how her full breasts pressed against her T-shirt and how long it had been since he’d been with a woman.

  Just his luck, that the one woman who sparked his interest, who stirred a physical response just by her nearness was a victim in a heinous crime. Getting involved with a victim was kind of like trying to find love on a reality show...rarely successful.

  Whatever he and Tamara might share now had nothing to do with real life. Any feelings that might arise between them would be based on too many other emotions...need, fear and, for him, the desire to do his job.

  He’d seen other agents get embroiled on a personal level with victims and witnesses and it never worked out. Besides, he reminded himself, he wasn’t looking for anything romantic in his life.

  Linda’s dismal marriage to her husband and her subsequent contentious divorce had been enough for Seth to reconfirm his commitment to remaining a lone wolf.

  It was just after ten when they returned to Linda’s and Seth immediately got on his cell phone to begin the process of tapping into the resources he had at his fingertips.

  He sat at the kitchen table with his laptop and phone and Tamara slid onto the sofa. The open floor plan of the house allowed him to watch her as he made his calls.

  It must be terrifying to not know anything about yourself, to not have memories or images of any past, of any part of your life to identify what kind of a person you were, where you fit in the world.

  It took him almost an hour to put into motion the people and programs that would give him all the information they needed about Tamara Jennings.

  When he’d made all his calls and set up a meeting with Sheriff Atkins for later in the day, he got up from the table and went to join Tamara on the sofa.

  He sat several inches away from her, but could still smell the clean, fresh scent of her. “Are you doing okay?” He seemed to be asking her that a lot.

  “As well as can be expected, I suppose, considering I just learned my name, I’m in a town I don’t know and you dug me out of a sand dune.” She smiled and
raised her chin a notch. “But at least I know my name now and hopefully by the time I go to bed tonight some more of my memories will return or you’ll be able to fill in some of the blanks.” Her smile fell. “Tell me more about the other two victims.”

  He told her what he knew about the young Rebecca Cook, found after the wild party on the dunes and the second victim, Vicki Smith, who had recently moved to town and worked as a waitress in one of the local restaurants.

  He watched the play of emotions sweep over her face. Sympathy, horror and the relief that she hadn’t become a third victim found dead in the sand, it was all there in her eyes, on her features. There was also a hint of guilt there, the guilt of survival, the guilt that so far she’d been unable to help them identify the killer.

  She tucked a strand of her long silky-looking hair behind an ear and gazed at him thoughtfully. “So, don’t you FBI people work up a profile of some kind on the killer?”

  Seth nodded. “We also work up a profile on the victims. But a profile is only as good as the facts of the crimes, and in these cases there are few facts to go on. Unfortunately two months ago when Rebecca Cook was discovered Sheriff Atkins made an error in judgment writing it off as a freak accidental death instead of investigating it like a homicide. Then a month later Vicki Smith was found and he knew he had a killer somewhere in town.”

  “Does he have any suspects?” she asked. She shifted positions and once again he caught a whiff of her clean fresh scent.

  “A few, although nobody who is at the top of a fairly pathetic list,” he admitted. “I intend to revisit all those suspects and reinterview everyone who had any part of the initial investigations. Hopefully I can pick up on something the sheriff and his men missed.”

  “Was I drugged? Maybe that’s why I can’t remember anything? At least that would explain how I got in the sand and apparently didn’t fight my attacker.”

  “Maybe, but doubtful. The tox screens for both of the previous victims came back clean for drugs. Rebecca’s showed a bit of alcohol but not enough to render her mentally or physically impaired. Dr. Kane should have your initial blood tox report back sometime today, but if it’s like the others, it won’t show any drugs.”

 

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