Scene of the Crime Deadman's Bluff - By Carla Cassidy Page 0,27

she’d endured.

Tom’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Oh, God, that’s horrible. Does she remember why she didn’t fight back? Why we didn’t find any defensive wounds on any of the victims? I mean, how does a man get a woman to simply lie down in the sand and be buried?”

“I don’t know, it’s got to be a drug of some sort, like succinylcholine or something like that,” Seth replied.

“Succinylcholine?” Tom frowned.

“It’s a drug that paralyzes the muscles. The victim would remain conscious and mentally alert, but would be unable to move. The body breaks it up quickly so it wouldn’t be evident in a blood test. Unfortunately, it’s also a drug that stops the heart after several minutes, so that can’t be the method he uses. These women were paralyzed but their hearts were still beating.”

“So we need to add everyone who works at the hospital or in the medical field in town to our list of potential suspects,” Tom said, a new weariness in his voice.

“Not necessarily,” Seth replied. “Although it makes sense that the killer would have some sort of medical background. Still, you can learn about and obtain almost anything on the internet these days.”

“I just hope Tamara gets her memories back soon. Otherwise I’ve got to be honest with you, I’m not sure we’ll solve these murders before he hits again,” Tom said.

“It does appear he’s on a timeline of thirty days or so,” Seth agreed.

“And we don’t know if his miss with Tamara will make him act again soon or if we have the luxury of three weeks or so before another body shows up.”

“Hurry up, you little punk.” Deputy Raymond Michaels’s deep voice drifted in from the corridor.

“Stop pushing me,” a younger voice complained. “I’m not doing anything wrong so keep your hands off me.”

Tom stood. “It sounds like your first interview subject has arrived. You know when I interviewed the three boys from the dunes on the night Tamara was found they all were tested for any kind of trace evidence, but we found nothing unusual on any of them.”

“I know, and I hope you don’t take offense of me needing to speak to them again for my own investigation.”

“No offense taken,” Atkins replied.

Seth stood as well, ready to try to find answers that might stop a killer, the answers that might free Tamara from her amnesia and allow them both to get on with their lives.

He didn’t think about why that thought caused a vague sense of dissatisfaction to slide through him. He was an FBI agent and this was nothing more than an assignment. He wouldn’t allow Tamara to mean anything to him except as part of a case that needed to be solved.

* * *

THE GOLDEN DAFFODIL was dimly lit at a quarter to seven when Tamara and Seth walked in and were greeted by an attractive blonde working as hostess.

“Table for two?” she asked with a smooth, practiced smile. Seth nodded and she grabbed a couple of menus from beneath her desk and motioned for them to follow her.

Samantha had insisted Tamara borrow a little black dress and a pair of high-heeled sandals for the meal out and now seeing the upscale interior and the formal attire of the waiters and waitresses, Tamara was grateful that she’d dressed up. She was also conscious of some of the other diners eyeing her with interest as they made their way to the table.

Seth had come home from his day at the sheriff’s office with just enough time to quickly shower and change his clothes before leaving for dinner. They’d scarcely had a chance to talk and she was eager to hear over dinner what he might have discovered during the day.

The hostess led them to a smoke-glass-topped table that boasted a slender vase with a bright yellow daffodil in the center. “Your waitress will be here shortly,” she said as she handed them each a menu.

“You look very nice,” Seth said once they were alone.

“You clean up pretty well yourself,” Tamara replied. Seth wore a pair of black slacks and a short-sleeved gray dress shirt that made his eyes almost silver in the dim room.

That was the sum of their conversation when the waitress stepped up to their table. “Good evening,” she said with a bright smile. “My name is Kelly and I’ll be your server for the evening. Can I start you off with an appetizer?”

“No, thanks, but how about two glasses of the house wine?” Seth said with a look

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