Free Scene of the Crime: Deadman's Bluff by Carla Cassidy Page B

steering wheel with a sense of determination. For the past couple of days he’d felt more like a babysitter than an investigator. As much as he enjoyed spending time with Tamara, as much as he hoped she’d regain her memories and solve the crime for them all, they couldn’t just sit around and wait and hope that that might happen.
    It was time to get to work...the tedious grunt work that usually solved crimes. They couldn’t depend on Tamara another minute. They needed to attempt to find the killer the old-fashioned way until Tamara was at a place where she could help them.
    If he discovered that Atkins’s team couldn’t keep up with him, that they weren’t up to his kind of investigation, then he would contact Director Forbes and request a couple more men to form a task force. He was hoping to work well with the locals, but he wouldn’t hesitate to call in reinforcements if necessary.
    As he stepped into the low, flat building that served as the sheriff’s headquarters, he smiled at the woman behind the desk at the same time that he heard Tom Atkins’s voice coming from a back room. The sheriff didn’t sound like a happy camper.
    “You can go on back,” the woman said as Seth flashed his badge. “They’re all there waiting for you in the conference room...last doorway on the left.”
    As Seth walked down the long corridor that led to the back of the building, he realized from the sound of things that Tom Atkins was definitely having a temper fit.
    Seth opened the door to the conference room and a dozen pairs of eyes turned his way. The dozen deputies were seated in chairs at a long conference table and Atkins stood at the head of the table, his chubby face flushed with residual anger.
    “Agent Hawkins,” he greeted Seth. “Please, join us.”
    Seth slid into a chair next to Deputy Raymond Michaels, the man who had brought him the files the other night.
    “Have you seen the morning paper?” Tom asked Seth.
    Seth shook his head. Linda didn’t have the local newspaper delivered and Seth hadn’t ventured out to find one that morning. A paper was slid in front of him and he stared at the front page in irritation. The headline read: The Sandman Attempts to Bury Another. There was also a grainy picture of Tamara being lifted out of her sandy grave by Seth. He scanned the accompanying article, his irritation growing as he realized it named not only Tamara but also himself and the fact that he was in town visiting Linda. The article had been written by Jeff Armando, reporter at large.
    He looked back at Tom. “It would appear there’s a mole in the room.”
    “And there’s nothing I hate more than moles,” Atkins replied as he directed his gaze to his men. “And if I find out one of you talked to Jeff, then I’m going to have your hide.”
    “Have you spoken to this Armando to see how he got the information?” Seth asked.
    Atkins’s frown deepened. “He has a right to protect his sources and all that First Amendment crap. Now, let’s get to work, but don’t think I intend to let this news item go. I’ll get to the bottom of it one way or another. Now, reports.”
    A young man with sandy-colored hair spoke up. “Deputy Aims and I spent all day yesterday checking out all the motels and anyplace that rents rooms to see if Tamara had registered anywhere to spend Monday night here in town. She wasn’t registered anywhere.”
    “So, she either intended to just pass through or check into a nearby motel without a reservation,” Atkins said.
    Another deputy spoke next. “Jack and I checked out all of the abandoned buildings, barns and sheds on the north side of town for the missing car. Obviously we didn’t find it. We plan on doing the south side today.”
    Tom nodded and looked at Seth. “When you called me last night Tamara had remembered eating at the café. Has she remembered anything else?”
    “No, but I’ve been thinking about the timeline on her particular case. We know she ate dinner at