Scene of the Crime Deadman's Bluff - By Carla Cassidy Page 0,35
awake for a long time after she’d gone to bed.
It was easy to figure out why the kiss had kept her awake. Seth’s lips against hers had fired a heat inside her that, despite her amnesia, she was certain she’d never felt before.
She knew he was right, that the two of them making love would only complicate what was already a muddled situation, but she’d so desperately wanted to be in his arms, to feel the warmth of his nakedness against her own. She’d wanted to leave this place with a single memory of making love to Seth to take with her back home.
She frowned and took a sip of the hot tea, knowing that her mind was focusing on Seth and what might have happened between them rather than what had just happened...somebody had tried to get to her, probably the same somebody who had already once buried her in the dunes.
The Sandman. It didn’t take a brilliant scientist to make an educated guess that the person who had tried to get into the house was the serial killer, and that his goal was to finish the job he’d started.
Even the warmth of the tea couldn’t stanch the shiver of horror that shuddered through her, a horror that eased somewhat as Seth came back into the room, followed by Tom and Raymond.
“Whoever it was must have worn gloves,” Tom said. “Raymond here dusted the sill and screen and couldn’t find any prints. You were lucky you woke up when you did. Another minute or two and he would have been on the bed with you.”
Tamara nodded, tuning out of the conversation as she felt the back of her throat close up and a tight pressure against her chest.
As the three lawmen moved into the living room, their voices became white noise as the scrape of a shovel against the sand filled her head. If she hadn’t awakened...the words thundered in her brain. If she hadn’t awakened when she did it was possible that by now she’d be buried in the dunes, without anyone knowing she’d been carried out of the house in the darkness of the night.
Hollowly she gazed at Linda. She’d brought danger to Linda’s home. She’d brought danger far too close to a woman and her daughter, both of whom had been kind to her.
She needed to go. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have her memories back. She needed to return to the life she didn’t remember and try to pick up the pieces. She had to do that in order to protect the people she had come to care about so very much.
* * *
SETH RETURNED TO THE KITCHEN alone and sat in the chair between his sister and Tamara. He reached for each of their hands and Tamara held on tight, feeling as if he was once again pulling her from the suffocating weight of a sand dune.
“So, we need to make some changes,” he said, his voice calm in contrast to the utter chaos in Tamara’s head. He turned and looked at his sister, his eyes gunmetal-gray. “We can’t remain here and put you and Samantha in danger.” He frowned, as if assessing the options.
“Actually, I have an idea of my own,” Linda said. “Next week Samantha had planned on staying with her dad for a couple of weeks. She does that every summer. I can talk to Mark tomorrow and I’m sure she can move right in over there. As far as I’m concerned I’ve got a friend in Oklahoma City who has been nagging me for the past six months since her husband passed away to come and stay with her for a while. I’ve got plenty of vacation time coming and I can be on the road first thing in the morning. Then the two of you can stay here and get things figured out.”
Tamara pulled her hand out of Seth’s grip. “Absolutely not. I can’t let you be chased out of your house because of me,” she protested. She wanted to weep, she felt so helpless and out of control.
“I’m not being chased out by you or anyone else,” Linda protested. “I’m making a choice.” She looked from Tamara to her brother. “It’s the logical thing to do. Besides, if you move someplace else he’ll just end up finding you again. At least you know the layout here. Seth knows how best to protect you in this house rather than someplace else in town.”