Scene of the Crime: Deadman's Bluff

BOOK: Scene of the Crime: Deadman's Bluff
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BURIED ALIVE

FBI agent Seth Hawkins was on a mission to catch a serial killer. Yet his only lead—a mysterious azure-eyed beauty found buried alive in the local sand dunes—had no memory of how she’d been abducted. Or anything else about her identity.

The only thing Tamara Jennings knew for sure was the undeniable attraction she felt for the strong, handsome man who saved her life. It wasn’t long before their passion flared out of control. But as memories of her forgotten past returned, would they lead her to the killer—and to a life she could share with Seth?

She was an integral part of a puzzle that involved two previous deaths, an important clue to what appeared to be a serial killer working in the small town.

As he entered her hospital room, she turned to look at him and offered him a small smile.

The simple gesture shot a wave of unexpected heat through his belly. A job, he reminded himself. She was a tool he needed to use to complete a job and nothing more. For all he knew, despite the fact that she wore no wedding ring, she could have a husband or a family somewhere awaiting her return.

There was no way he could get caught up with her on a personal level.

Carla Cassidy

Scene of the Crime:
Deadman’s Bluff

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Carla Cassidy is an award-winning author who has written more than fifty novels for Harlequin Books. In 1995, she won Best Silhouette Romance from
RT Book Reviews
for
Anything for Danny.
In 1998, she also won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series from
RT Book Reviews.

Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write. She’s looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to readers.

Books by Carla Cassidy

HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

1077—THE SHERIFF’S SECRETARY
1114—PROFILE DURANGO
1134—INTERROGATING THE BRIDE*
1140—HEIRESS RECON*
1146—PREGNESIA*
1175—SCENE OF THE CRIME: BRIDGEWATER, TEXAS
1199—ENIGMA
1221—WANTED: BODYGUARD
1258—SCENE OF THE CRIME: BACHELOR MOON
1287—BY ORDER OF THE PRINCE
1301—SCENE OF THE CRIME: WIDOW CREEK
1330—SCENE OF THE CRIME: MYSTIC LAKE
1374—SCENE OF THE CRIME: BLACK CREEK
1414—SCENE OF THE CRIME: DEADMAN’S BLUFF

*The Recovery Men

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Seth Hawkins—
The FBI agent was looking for a vacation and instead finds himself embroiled in a murder investigation with a beautiful woman at the center.

Tamara Jennings—
She’d just been passing through the small town of Amber Lake but finds herself buried in the Deadman’s Sand Dunes on the edge of town. Saved from death by Seth, she has no memory of who she is or what has happened to her.

Henry Todd—
He’s a successful restaurateur, but does he also have an appetite for murder?

Deputy Raymond Michaels—
He has a reputation as a bully. Has that character trait progressed into something more deadly?

Sam Clemmons—
The young college dropout who rides the Deadman’s Dunes every day and has been present at the discovery of each body. Does he enjoy burying women in his playground?

Mark Willoughby—
Seth’s sister’s ex-husband. Had the contentious divorce turned him into a woman-hating monster?

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Excerpt

Chapter One

The sand dunes were nearly blinding in the late-June sunshine, but that didn’t stop the surge of adrenaline that raced through Seth Hawkins as he pulled his pickup to a halt and cut the engine.

Deadman’s Dunes. It had been almost a year since he’d been back here in the small Oklahoma town of Amber Lake to enjoy not only the company of his sister and niece, but also the thrill of conquering the dunes.

Seth pulled on a pair of goggles against the sun’s glare and then got out of his truck. As far as the eye could see the dunes rose up like an alien landscape located seven miles outside town.

In the distance he could hear the roar of quad and other ATV engines and knew he wouldn’t have the dunes to himself. Not that it mattered, there was plenty of room for everyone.

He’d driven here from his home in Kansas City early that morning and had a leisurely lunch with Linda and Samantha, his sister and niece, but he’d been eager to get out here on the dunes where nothing mattered but the throttle beneath his hand and the elemental challenge between man and nature.

It took him only minutes to unload his dirt bike from the back of the truck. As he strapped on his protective equipment and then pulled on his helmet, he drew in a deep breath of the fresh warm air.

For the next week he wasn’t FBI Special Agent Seth Hawkins—he was simply Seth on vacation, visiting with his only relatives and enjoying some much needed downtime from the job.

He climbed on the dirt bike and kick-started it, the thrum of the engine filled him with a teenagelike excitement. It felt as if in the past couple of years there had been nothing but work, no time for anything but murder and mayhem. He needed this vacation and he intended to spend each and every moment of it just having fun and relaxing.

With this thought in mind, he released the clutch and shot forward, the sand shifting ever ominously beneath his tires as he approached the first dune and after that miles of more dunes that would eventually lead to the large hump that was Deadman’s Bluff.

A hairpin turn at the crest of the hill had to be maneuvered with precision. Otherwise the rider would fly off the bluff and to the sand fifteen feet below. More than one rider had tasted that sand at the bottom of Deadman’s Bluff, although Seth himself had never had the unpleasant experience.

As he flew over the first mound, exhilaration spiked and he would have grinned, but knew that gesture would only get him a mouthful of sand.

He saw the tracks that others had left before him and saw in the distance several riders on quads who were obviously riding together.

Seth hadn’t visited Amber Lake often enough over the years to get to know the locals. He tried to come and visit his sister every six months or so, especially since her contentious divorce five years ago, but most of the time it was just an overnight visit.

But he was here now for a wonderful week and intended to take full advantage of having nothing more on his mind than dinner and dunes.

He’d been riding about a half hour when he spied the other three riders in the distance, all stopped and off their vehicles near an area referred to as the whoop-ti-doos, tiny bumps set so close together they rattled your brain. The young men looked like they were freaking out, two of them jumping around while the third stood as if frozen into a statue.

Was the young man who wasn’t moving hurt? Had he taken a tumble and was now in a state of shock? Seth turned his bike to head toward them and as he drew closer he could hear two of the male voices shouting above the whine of his engine.

Seth pulled up, cut his engine and pulled off his helmet and goggles. “In the sand...” It was a short, dark-haired young man who shouted at Seth. “There’s a dead woman in the sand.”

What? Seth dropped his helmet on the ground, wondering if this was some kind of stupid prank the three were playing on him. He walked over to where statue man stood staring down at the sand just in front of him. Seth followed his gaze and gasped in shock.

A pale face in the sand, a woman’s face, partially visible with her eyes closed. Obviously a dead woman, Seth’s brain processed as the shock quickly passed.

“Any of you have a cell phone?” he asked, having left his own in his truck.

“It’s freaky,” the blond boy exclaimed as he wore a path back and forth in the sand. “Jeez, who would do something like that?”

“A phone,” Seth barked. “Anyone have a phone?” The tall, frozen man stumbled back a couple of steps and pulled a phone from his pocket.

“Call for help,” Seth commanded as he took a step closer to the body. “All three of you get over there by my bike.”

The last thing he wanted was for everyone to trample what was obviously a crime scene. Whoever the woman was, she hadn’t willingly lain down in the sand and buried herself. However, as an FBI agent he wanted to get closer, assure himself she was dead despite the obvious.

“The sheriff is on his way,” one of the guys said.

As Seth approached the woman, he was vaguely aware of the three others talking among themselves, their voices all holding a barely contained edge of hysteria.

There was no question the scene was disconcerting. There was no indication of her body beneath the sand, simply a face half-emerged from the sandy surface, like some art sculpture left behind by a mentally ill artist.

Careful not to step where he assumed her body must be, Seth knelt down at the side of the face and swept away some of the sand that covered her closed eyes.

In all of his years as an FBI agent working violent crimes, he’d never seen anything like this, and he’d certainly seen a lot of evil things.

He brushed a bit more sand away from her eyes and froze as he thought one of her eyelids twitched. A trick of the sun? He touched her skin. Warm...warmed by the heat of the day or by blood still flowing through her veins?

Quickly he dug through the sand by her neck, seeking the place where he might find a pulse. It took him only seconds to find her pulse point and place his fingers against it. He nearly yelped in surprise as he felt the beat of life throbbing there.

“She’s alive,” he yelled. “Get over here and help me. We’ve got to get this sand off her.”

Two of the three ran to help Seth as he began to scoop sand away from her neck and her chest. As he worked on her upper body the other two men worked on her thighs and legs. The tall young man appeared to be in some state of shock still, standing like a robot in front of Seth’s dirt bike.

“Hey, call the sheriff back and tell him we need an ambulance,” Seth instructed the robot. “And tell him to hurry.”

“This is so freaky...so freakin’ freaky,” the dark-haired man said as he uncovered a jean-clad leg.

“Are you sure she’s alive?” the other one asked as he worked on getting the last of the sand off her other leg.

BOOK: Scene of the Crime: Deadman's Bluff
11.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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