Scene of the Crime Deadman's Bluff - By Carla Cassidy Page 0,4
the sand dunes.
As the conversation ended Seth noticed with dismay that the wind was picking up. A little wind out on the dunes would destroy any hope of collecting any evidence that might have been there.
He went back into the waiting room and within half an hour Sheriff Atkins showed up once again. “Any word on the victim?” he asked.
“Nothing so far. The only thing that’s happened is that I got a call from my director indicating that I’m now on this case. Why didn’t you tell me while we were in your car that this was the third woman found buried in the sand dunes?”
Sheriff Atkins winced, the lines on his face appearing to deepen into bone-weariness in the span of a heartbeat. “I wasn’t sure what I had going on here until you found this woman today. This makes number three and that officially makes it bigger for me to handle. It’s obviously a serial killer at work and I know as FBI you’d have more experience with this sort of thing.”
Whatever else he might have said was interrupted as a doctor came into the room. “Tom.” He greeted the sheriff with a nod.
“And this is Special Agent Seth Hawkins,” Sheriff Atkins said. “Doctor William Kane. How is she?”
“Other than being a bit dehydrated and showing some sand abrasion, she appears to be surprisingly fine physically. Her vitals are stable, but we’re giving her fluids and we’ve drawn blood for a tox screen.”
“Is she conscious?” Seth asked. “Has she said anything?”
“She’s conscious and we’ve moved her to a regular room, but she came to so agitated we had to give her a mild sedative. She’s calm now but so far she hasn’t said a word to anyone,” Dr. Kane replied.
“Can we see her?” Seth asked.
Dr. Kane hesitated a moment and then nodded. “But I have to warn you that she appears to be emotionally fragile. I don’t want her upset. I understand that you have questions and want answers, but right now my main concern is her health and welfare.”
“Understood,” Sheriff Atkins agreed.
“Room 223.”
Seth took the lead down the long corridor that would take him to her room. He told himself his eagerness to see her, to talk to her was because she was now his case. It was official business.
Room 223 was in semidarkness, the curtains pulled across the windows to shield the late-day sun, and only a small light illuminated the area just above the bed.
Seth nodded in surprise at his sister, who rose from a chair next to the bed at their entrance. “We did the best we could to clean her up, but there’s still a beach-full of sand in her hair,” she said in a soft whisper. “I think she’s asleep right now, but it’s hard to tell. She hasn’t made a sound since you brought her in.”
Linda moved away from the bed as Seth stepped closer. Sheriff Atkins remained just inside the doorway, as if perfectly happy to take a secondary role to Seth.
Seth gazed at the woman in the bed and then looked up at the sheriff. “You sure she isn’t a local?” he asked, his voice low and soft.
“Fairly sure,” Tom replied.
Seth sank down into the chair that Linda had vacated, satisfied to simply sit and watch until the mystery woman woke up. He had no idea how long Sheriff Atkins was willing to stand in the doorway, but Seth was committed to sitting all night if that’s what it took.
It didn’t take all night. They’d only been waiting about fifteen minutes when she drew a deep intake of breath and opened her eyes. Almost instantly the tension level in the room shot through the ceiling.
She half rose from her prone position, eyes wild until her gaze landed on Seth and then she appeared to relax a little bit and leaned back into the pillow.
“You’re safe now,” he said softly. “You’re in a hospital and nobody is going to hurt you again.” He realized her eyes weren’t just a simple blue, but had silver shards around the pupils, giving them a depth that drew Seth in.
“Can you tell us your name?” Tom asked as he stepped up to the foot of her bed.
She looked at the sheriff and then back at Seth and tears began to fill her eyes. She clutched the sheet that covered her and Seth noted that her fingernails were medium-length and polished with a pretty pink gloss that had dulled slightly, probably from sand abrasion.