Scene of the Crime Deadman's Bluff - By Carla Cassidy Page 0,30

afraid for her, afraid that when she had all the pieces she’d never find her smile again, she’d never get over the trauma of whatever had happened to her in those missing hours, might never recover from the fright of being inside the dunes.

He was ambivalent about her getting her memories back. He wanted her to retrieve any information that might help him get a killer behind bars, but he was also aware of the fact that once she had the puzzle of her past back together, it would be time for her to return to her life, and he was surprised to discover that he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her yet.

“Seth?” She looked at him expectantly and he realized he hadn’t replied to her.

“Yeah, I guess it’s good that your memories are coming back to you,” he agreed as he sliced into the steak in front of him. “So, you remember your ex-husband and your marriage?” He wasn’t sure why but he was intrigued to know what kind of a man she’d married and why that marriage hadn’t worked.

“I do.” She reached for the salt and pepper and topped her baked potato with both. “Jason Jennings, hotshot real-estate investor and womanizer extraordinaire.”

“Is that why the marriage broke up? He was a cheater?” Seth asked. He couldn’t imagine a man stupid enough to cheat on a woman like Tamara.

“That, among other things,” she replied. “Jason and I were an ill-fated match from the beginning. He loved people and parties and I preferred quiet nights at home. He liked flashy cars and big houses and I didn’t care about those kinds of things. I just wanted a couple of kids and a loving husband. We were married about a year when I realized he also liked other women.”

She took a sip of her wine and then frowned. “That’s all I remember,” she said curtly, but her eyes had gone the dark blue of unpleasant thoughts, memories she apparently wasn’t ready to share with him or hadn’t yet fully accessed.

“To be honest, the divorce was a relief for both of us and we parted ways as friends,” she finally continued. “It’s funny, I can remember my marriage and my brief life with Jason, but I can’t remember what finally broke us apart for good or what my mother and father looked like. I don’t know what my apartment looks like or why I left it to come here.”

“It will all fall into place,” Seth replied in an attempt to calm her. “And if it doesn’t, there’s always that therapist you can see.”

She shook her head. “I’m not ready for that yet. My memories are coming back on their own. I don’t think it will be long before I’ll have them all.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the appearance of Deputy Raymond Michaels and a thin, nervous-looking woman at his side. “Agent Hawkins, Ms. Jennings,” he greeted them with a smile. “I see you two have found the best place to eat in the area.” He threw an arm around the brunette next to him. “This is my wife, Sue. We’re here celebrating our fifth anniversary.”

“Congratulations,” Tamara and Seth said at the same time.

Michaels squeezed his wife close to his side. “Thanks. Enjoy the great food and I’ll see you in the morning at the office,” he said to Seth.

Seth watched the two of them as they left to follow the hostess to their table. “You don’t like him,” Tamara said.

He looked at her in surprise. “What makes you think that?”

“Your eyes have gone flat and I can feel some tension coming from you.”

He grinned at her. “You’d make a good cop.”

She returned his smile. “No, I’ve just been hanging around you long enough to recognize some of the subtle signals you give off. Why don’t you like him?”

“I interviewed the three kids that were on the dunes with me when you were found today and all three of them complained about Michaels being a bully.” Seth found it disconcerting and not in an unpleasant way that she’d been able to read him so well. “He just strikes me as the type of man who swaggers around town during the day and then goes home and beats his wife and kicks the dog to pass the evening.”

Tamara flashed a glance at the couple. “She looks like a woman who either doesn’t have a voice or is afraid to find one.”

“I’d bet on the latter.”

She reached for a piece of the fresh-baked bread

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