Read Sandrift: A Lin Hanna Mystery Online
Authors: Sharon Canipe
She tried to
organize her thoughts, tried to remember what had happened, but everything was
still so fuzzy; she began to drift back toward unconsciousness.
Lin wasn’t sure
how much time had passed when she woke up again, but a small sliver of light
was leaking through the blinds at a window high in the opposite wall.
It was obviously morning but what
day?
Saturday? Sunday?
Lin had no idea how long she’d been
out.
The boat was still rocking,
and she could still hear the wind.
Her mouth felt dry, and she had a headache, but in spite of the motion, her
nausea seemed to have abated.
She’d
just decided to try sitting up again when she heard heavy footsteps above her
head.
Deciding that it might be
better if she appeared to be still unconscious, she closed her eyes and waited
as the steps drew nearer, seeming to descend a staircase.
Finally, she heard the door open and
footsteps crossing toward the bed.
“What the…? You
fuckin’ bitch!” A rough hand snatched her up and shoved her back against the
wall.
Her eyes flew open as her
head smacked against the enclosure.
“You’ve ruined this place—throwing up all over the carpet.”
Mike Clark swung back with his other
hand slapping her hard before dropping her back down on the cot. “Ruined my
shoes too.
I ought to throw you
over the side right now.”
Lin rolled back
toward the wall, her face still smarting from the blow.
Finally, she was able to catch her
breath.
Her tormentor seemed to be
quieter, perhaps cleaning up his shoes.
She could hear movement and curses under his breath, but he didn’t hit
her again.
Finally she gathered her
courage and rolled back to face him.
“Is that what
you’re here to do, throw me overboard?”
Mike Clark
stopped wiping his shoes and stared at her, gradually breaking into a contorted
grin. “Not today, Ms. High and Mighty Hanna.
You get one more miserable day to
live.
Storm’s too strong
today.
Small craft warnings
everywhere and the water’s too shallow here.
You’re heading out to the gulfstream—maybe
you’ll wash up somewhere in the British Isles if the sharks don’t finish you
off.
I’ll be back when things calm
down.”
With that he rose and exited
the cabin.
The lock clicked firmly
in the door, and Lin heard his footsteps ascending.
Soon the only sound was the wind and the
rain.
The storm that Lin now
realized was her friend.
Promptly at
six-thirty Neal walked into the Sheriff’s office; the officer on duty motioned
him back to the conference room, “Sheriff Midgett is still at the garage.
He said for you to wait here, he should
be back any minute now.”
Neal tried to
remain calm, but he was fighting a losing battle.
His hand trembled slightly as he pulled
out the chair.
He’d skipped eating,
even coffee, fearing that he wouldn’t be able to keep anything down.
In spite of their request last night,
he’d not contacted Eloise and Tom when he got the four o’clock call.
Somehow it seemed that if he voiced the
news that the car had been found without Lin, his worst fears would be
confirmed.
When he’d left to come
to Manteo, he’d decided to wait until after seven to give them more rest.
Now he began to
wish that he had someone with him, someone to talk to.
He knew that he had to keep himself
together and stay calm or he’d be no help whatsoever.
He was determined not to give up.
Even if Lin had been robbed, she might
still be found somewhere, perhaps injured but, hopefully, alive.
Just as he was
picking up his phone to dial Tom, Sheriff Midgett came into the room.
He eased his considerable bulk into one
of the wooden chairs and placed a worn notebook on the table.
Neal could see that he’d been up all
night.
His uniform was disheveled,
and there were dark circles under his eyes.
“Well, we have
a somewhat unusual situation here,” he finally said, thumbing through the
notebook. “The interior of Ms. Hanna’s car yielded no significant
evidence.
There were no discernable
prints on the steering wheel, the door handles, nowhere.
We’d have expected to find her prints
somewhere.
Even if we couldn’t
match them to any records for positive identification, there’d be
prints—unless she always wore driving gloves.”
“She didn’t,”
Neal
responded, “she might’ve worn gloves yesterday because
of the weather, but generally she didn’t so there should be earlier prints.”
“Maybe she’d
recently had the car cleaned, inside and out.”
“No, I know she
hadn’t.
In fact, we’d talked about
cleaning up her car and Kate’s this weekend, but the weather put an end to that
plan.
Her car needed cleaning up
but she’d not done it yet.”
The Sheriff
just gazed at his notes, thinking through what he’d learned.
“They’re still working on the carpet and
upholstery, looking for fibers and such, but so far nothing’s been found.
The lack of any prints is a problem.”
Neal voiced
what the Sheriff seemed reluctant to say, “That means that someone wiped down
all the surfaces of that car’s interior when it was parked, and that person
wasn’t Lin.” He realized the enormity of what he was saying and found himself
almost choking on the words.
As he fought to
maintain his composure he suddenly realized that a similar lack of prints had
been found when Dorrie’s car was examined.
He quickly reminded Pete Midgett of that fact.
“ Could there
be a link here? Could the person who wiped Lin’s car clean have been the same
one who cleaned Dorrie’s?
We’d
noticed that situation when Sgt. Parker had Dorrie’s car examined before her
Dad drove it home, but then we thought maybe your men had cleaned it up before
releasing it to him.
Maybe the car
hadn’t been checked earlier, since her death was found to be an accident.”
“That’s easy
enough to find out,” the Sheriff reached for his desk set, “We keep good
records of everything we do to vehicles in our possession—saves all kind
of trouble later.”
After a short
conversation with someone at the county garage he learned that Dorrie’s car had
indeed been routinely checked for fingerprints and other evidence before
there’d been any ruling in the death.
It was also clean, just like Lin’s.
Sheriff Midgett didn’t speculate on that finding, but Neal observed that
he did make an entry into his worn notebook.
“Well, time’s
wasting,” the Sheriff heaved himself from his chair, “rain or not, we need to
begin searching the downtown area for our lady.”
“I want to
help,” Neal insisted. “I need to do something.”
Pete Midgett
seemed to sense Neal’s level of desperation. “OK, he said, I’ve something you
can do.
My folks know best where to
look along back streets, parking lots, and…” he didn’t add dumpsters and trash
bins but Neal knew that was implied. “Why don’t you come with me and get some
breakfast, I’ve been up all night, and I need something if I’m going to make it
through the morning.
You look like
you need a boost too.
By the time
we finish, the shops will be opening for business.
It’s a Saturday and the holiday season, and
most are opening an hour or so earlier than usual.
I want you to visit every shop you can
find and ask if anyone saw your friend yesterday, and if so, when? Do you have
a photo?”
Neal remembered
that he had a couple of snapshots in his wallet that he’d taken when they were
at Grand Canyon in September. “Yes, I do,” he responded,
“but can’t I do something more?”
“ You can eat
and get some coffee in you.
If you
don’t take care of yourself you won’t do anyone any good, c’mon.”
Neal
reluctantly followed the lumbering Sheriff outside.
“Leave your car here and ride with me,”
Midgett urged. “Parking downtown is at a premium these days, and besides,
you’ll be on foot when you’re making your rounds.
Grab an umbrella if you have one,
though.”
Neal shook his
head ,
“There’s a hood on this slicker.
I’ll be OK.
Mind if I call my friend Tom?
He might be able to help check the
shops.”
“The more the
merrier,” Midgett cranked up his patrol car and headed out.
Tom agreed to
meet Neal at the restaurant. “I’ve already eaten, but I’ll join you for
coffee.
We wondered where you’d
gone when we got up and saw the car missing.”
Reluctantly,
Neal told Tom about Lin’s car being found but without her. “She might’ve been
robbed,” he said, “she’d just picked up her ring you know, and maybe she had
other purchases.
I’m not sure about
that but…”
“That ring was
a beautiful piece, very valuable,” Tom completed his thought.
The Sheriff pulled into the parking lot
of the Manteo Family Restaurant.
In
spite of the horrible weather, the lot was almost full.
“Just an everyday place but the
breakfast is hearty and the coffee is great,” he said.
Soon they were
seated in a window booth with a steaming pot of freshly brewed coffee on the
table.
The smell of sizzling bacon
warmed the air.
Neal felt almost
ashamed to admit it, but he was feeling quite hungry.
He’d barely touched his soup last night,
after all.
He realized that Pete
Midgett was right; he needed to keep himself in shape if he were going to be of
any use in finding Lin, and he couldn’t allow himself to have any negative
thoughts about the outcome of this search.
By the time his
plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and grits had arrived, Tom was walking in the
door.
He was dressed for the
weather, fully prepared to assist in the search.
Neal was amazed at his energy and
strength.
He wasn’t sure how old
Tom was, but he did know he’d been retired for many years.
Sheriff Midgett
had grabbed a tourist map of downtown Manteo from a rack near the door.
When they’d finished their meal and the
plates had been cleared, he poured each of them another cup of coffee and
spread the map on the table. He marked a path through town with a felt-tipped
marker, beginning at the restaurant and proceeding through the business
district, ending along the waterfront.
He marked with an X the spot where Lin’s car had been found.
“I know that’s a
pretty far distance from here, but she could’ve gone anywhere if she were
running errands, and we might be able to build some sort of time line,” he
said. “When you’ve checked all the shops—and I do mean all—give me
a call and I’ll meet up with you.”
Tom grabbed a
second copy of the map for himself and marked the same route. “ We can move
more quickly if we divide up the streets,” he said.
“You guys do
that, I’ve got to get going.
Breakfast is on me,” the Sheriff grabbed the check and prepared to
leave.
***
With the
departure of Mike Clark, Lin felt somewhat relieved to be alone once more.
At least nothing was going to happen to
her right now.
Her head was beginning
to clear, and it was now light enough for her to see something of her
surroundings.
She was
obviously in a cabin on a boat; she’d already determined that.
She rolled over on her back and lifted
her feet trying to determine what bound her.
It appeared to be duck tape, wrapped
around her ankles.
She was able to
move her feet slightly, but couldn’t pull them apart.
She’d been stripped of her shoes and
socks.
She looked around the room,
but couldn’t see these, or her black pea coat she now remembered wearing.
She rolled on her side again, trying to
wiggle her hands.
The tape around
her wrists seemed somewhat looser.
She couldn’t break the bond, but she was able to shift her hands enough
to rub them together.
The odor from
where she’d been sick earlier was almost overwhelming; she turned away from the
edge of the bed.
Gradually she
began to push her body toward an upright, seated position.
Using her feet to scoot herself
backwards toward the wall.
When she
felt it firmly behind her shoulders she added pushing down with her hands each
time she shoved her feet.
It took
several minutes, but she finally found herself in a seated position.
It wasn’t any more comfortable, but at
least she could better see her surroundings.
The cabin was
larger than she’d originally thought but longer than it was wide; the bunk on
which she sat took up about half the width.
The ceiling was low.
She knew that the door led to stairs
that evidently went up to the deck.
There was a small folding desk across the room, just a shelf really,
attached to the wall by two brass chains.
This gave Lin an idea.
If
she could get over there, maybe she could use the chains to further loosen the
tape around her wrists.
It was
worth a try anyway.
Realizing that
if she put her feet down near the head of the cot she’d simply step in the mess
she’d made earlier, she tried to remain upright and shove herself along the
blanket to the foot of the bed.
It
was an exhausting effort as she could only manage inches at a time.
Finally, she’d moved far enough to avoid
the mess.
Scooting to the edge, she
let her feet drop over the side and tried to stand.
Without her arms to assist or balance
her she toppled over onto the floor.
This won’t help
she thought.
She realized that she
had to stand up if she had any chance of reaching the chains with her
wrists.
Slowly she began the
laborious push toward the door.
Maybe she could push up against it.
She found she made more progress if she inched along on her side.
Finally, she reached the door and
managed to position her shoulders against it as she had positioned them against
the wall earlier.
***
Tom and Neal
lingered in the restaurant for a few moments, deciding which streets each would
canvass and agreeing to meet at the spot where Lin’s car was found.
Neal gave Tom one of the snapshots of
Lin, “It’s not a close up but it’s a pretty good likeness so maybe someone will
recognize her.”
The waitress
offered them cups of coffee to go which they were glad to accept given the
blustery wet day they faced.
Outside, the
friends split up, each heading toward their chosen streets.
Neal pulled the hood of his slicker up
snuggly around his head and neck, silently wishing that, wherever she was, Lin
had some protection from this weather.
Making his way
along the first street, Neal noticed that all the small shops seemed to be
opened.
It was still fairly early
so there were only a few customers.
He was tempted to skip places that he thought Lin would have no reason
to visit, but remembering Pete Midgett’s instructions, he entered them
all.
No stone should be left
unturned in this hunt.