Scene of the Crime Deadman's Bluff - By Carla Cassidy Page 0,14
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.