The Lighthouse. Mary Schramski
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“I’m certainly no expert in the area, but I understand that we can secure one of the best in the state who has helped in numerous cases.”
“But any information that I might give you while under hypnosis isn’t admissible in court, is it?”
Sam frowned. “I’m not sure about that. But I do know that right now we have absolutely no leads at all. Any information you could give us would be better than what we have now. Maybe we could build a case without your testimony. Let me ask you something. Do you remember anybody hanging around your apartment before that morning? This guy had to have been watching you.”
She shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t.”
Sam asked her several other questions, and she answered as best she could, but mostly she was a blank. Her head began to pound. She hadn’t had a migraine in a while, but she could feel one coming on.
“Sam, I’m sorry, but I don’t think that I can talk about it anymore. I’m getting a splitting headache.”
He closed his notebook and turned off the recorder. “I understand. I’ll leave now. Maybe we can get together this weekend.”
“I don’t think I’ll have any more to tell you.”
“I wasn’t talking about the case. I meant maybe we could go out or something.”
That should have pleased her, but the pain in her head took all her attention. “Call me,” she said, and fled to her bedroom for medication.
SAM TALKED WITH GABE for a while about Skye’s kidnapping, but he didn’t have anything to add that wasn’t in the reports he’d read. Except recounting the horror of it.
“Was Skye able to tell you anything helpful?” Gabe asked.
“Not really. She was nervous as a cat, and just talking about it gave her a bad headache.”
“A migraine. Damn. It’ll lay her low for several hours. She hasn’t had one in a while.”
“Man, I’m sorry about that. But I had to talk to her.”
Gabe shrugged. “I’m not blaming you for doing your job.”
After Sam left, he headed downtown to see Belle’s office. He’d been promising her that he’d drop by sometime. Wimberley was a pretty little town full of old rednecks, an artsy crowd plus a new influx of retirees and folks attracted to the charm of a small town and the bucks to be made with the booming tourist trade.
He followed Ranch Road 12 toward the square, passing over the bridge where Cypress Creek had smoothed the limestone boulders along its bumpy path. Not that he could see anything square about the square. There was a crooked Y in the road and a couple of streets off to one side with a bunch of shops and restaurants painted different colors. His mother would call the town picturesque.
He found the Wimberley Star office down one of the side streets and parked out front. Belle liked it here. Mostly he figured that Belle liked it here because Gabe was here.
Gabe was a good guy.
And Skye…
Skye was spectacular. She didn’t deserve what had happened to her. Sam wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to do it, but somehow, some way, he was going to track down the bastard who had screwed up her life and put him behind bars.
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