Don't Close Your Eyes by Carlene Thompson

without inflection. “Her throat has been slashed.”
     
    Tamara’s throat had been slashed? Slashed?
    Natalie stood up, her lips slightly parted in shock. She’d known Tamara hadn’t been killed by a falling limb. She’d even been fairly sure Tam hadn’t been struck by lighting. But this?
    Meredith watched her intently. “Dr. St. John, do you know anyone who might want to murder Mrs. Hunt?”
    “Murder?” Natalie repeated incredulously. “Murder Tamara? My God, no! No one could want to hurt her.”
    “Someone did. I don’t need a medical examiner to tell me her throat wasn’t cut in an accident.” He seemed to notice Jimmy for the first time. “I told you to get going, boy!” Jimmy hopped on his bike and sped away, although he looked totally unabashed by the sheriff’s harsh tone. “Dr. St. John, I asked you about Mrs. Hunt,” Meredith said.
    Natalie raised her hands helplessly. “I can’t tell you anything. I haven’t lived in Port Ariel for years. I’m only back for a visit.”
    “Maybe her father and sister will know something. Or her husband. Is that all the family?”
    “Her mother is dead. There are aunts, uncles, cousins, but I don’t know where any of them live.”
    Meredith wasn’t taking notes, but Natalie had no doubt he would remember everything she said. She glanced back at the location of Tamara’s body. People cleared away the remaining leaves and chunks of wood. Emergency technicians pushed a gurney. Everyone moved slowly and quietly because Tamara was a lifeless, mutilated body headed for a
     
    morgue instead of an emergency room. Had there ever been a chance? How long had she lived after someone had ripped open her slender white throat?
    “Dr. St. John?” Sheriff Meredith’s voice sounded as if it were coming from far away. She looked at him, noticing for the first time a thin two-inch-long scar that slashed above his right eyebrow and the slight bump high on the bridge of his nose as if it had been broken. He also had a strand of silver hair along one temple. Lily had said something about him coming to Port Ariel because of a tragedy in New York City. Had he been injured? “Are you all right?” he asked.
    “Not really.” She suddenly realized how weak she felt. “Could someone take me home?”
    “I thought Miss Peyton left her car keys.”
    “Her Corvette is a four-speed. I can only drive an automatic. My father tried to teach me to use a manual but I just couldn’t seem to learn. He got so frustrated—” She broke off. “I need a ride.”
    “I’ve done all I can here for now. I’ll take you.”
    The emergency technicians were carrying the gurney past them. The road was too rough to wheel it. A sheet covered Tamara’s body, but Natalie still averted her eyes.
    “Did you bag her hands?” Meredith asked.
    “Yes,” a deputy said. “You told us twice.”
    “Got a handkerchief?”
    The deputy looked at him blankly for a moment, then withdrew a white square from his pocket. The sheriff took it, put the note inside, and handed it back. “Put this in an evidence bag. We’ve already got three extra sets of prints on it. We don’t need any more.”
    “What is it?” the deputy asked.
    “A note that might have been left on Mrs. Hunt’s body. Hysell, I’m going to take Dr. St. John home. I’ll be back at the office in half an hour.”
    “Okay, Sheriff.” Then: “Natalie?”
    She looked up and recognized Ted Hysell. He’d been a couple of years ahead of her in school. “Damned shame, isn’t
     
    it?” Ted said. “Knew Tamara for years. She was a real sweetheart.”
    “Yes, she was.”
    “Pretty as a picture. I used to have a crush on her. Of course that was a long time ago. She never went out with me, but she was always real nice to me. Helped me through French class. I would have failed without her. Anyway, we’ll find who did this, Natalie. We won’t stop until we’ve got him and—”
    “Thank you, Hysell,” Meredith said repressively,