Riptide

that the local cops won't be able to do a thing about
    Linda Cartwright because they're going in completely blind. But
    we agreed this is the way we'll play it for a while. The cops have
    been there for a while now, Becca. They're taking care of her. But
    they won't be able to figure anything out because we're holding
    back. That really sticks in everyone's craw, probably always will."
    "Sherlock, do you know who Krimakov is?"
    Sherlock couldn't help it, her eyes gave her away before she
    could pull down the automatic blinders, and she wanted to kick
    herself. She shrugged. "Yes, I know; But it would have to be his
    ghost who killed Linda Cartwright. Evidently, Thomas got information
    that he was killed in an auto accident just a short time ago
    in Crete, where he supposedly lived. So it's all academic. If he's
    dead, then he can't have anything to do with this."
    "And Thomas has double-checked that this guy is really dead?"
    "I would assume so."
    "If this Krimakov were alive, and he were behind this terror,
    why would he be doing it to me in particular? He's what--Russian?
    What could he possibly have against me? Why would Thomas
    think it was him?"
    "I don't know," Sherlock said, lying cleanly now because she'd
    had time to slip her mask into place.
    "Who is Thomas, Sherlock? Please, you've got to tell me."
    "Just forget him, Becca," she said over her shoulder. "Drop it.
    Give it time. Now, I want some more coffee. Can I make you some
    toast or something?"
    "No, nothing." Who was this Thomas person? Becca wondered. Why all the secrecy? It made no sense to her. She looked over at the
    single telephone. It was nearly nine o'clock on Thursday morning.

Nothing from. him. Maybe he was scared now, maybe he knew
    they were getting close, maybe he would go away. Still, she sat there
    staring at that damned black phone like it was a snake about to bite
    her.
    The last person any of them wanted to see arrived midmorning.
    "The door looks good," Sheriff Gaffney said when Becca
    opened it. "What with all this mess, I didn't think you'd worry so
    much about how your front door looked."
    Becca said, "You just never know, do you, Sheriff? Would you
    like to come in? Is there any news about who the skeleton is?"
    "Yeah, I'd like to talk to you a moment, Ms. Powell. I believe
    now that the skeleton that fell out of your basement wall is Melissa
    Katzen." He rubbed his forehead. "I didn't think old Jacob was that
    vicious. Bashing a young girl in the face--now that just isn't right."
    "Sheriff," Adam said, coming up behind Becca, "I was thinking
    about that. You said she was supposed to elope. Any leads on her
    boyfriend?"
    "Nope, nobody remembers her ever dating. Isn't that weird?
    Why would she keep it secret? That doesn't make any sense to me
    or to my wife, Maude. She thinks that a young girl would be really
    proud to show off a boyfriend."
    "Maybe the boyfriend didn't want her to show him off," Becca
    said. "Maybe he told her to keep quiet."
    "But why?"
    "I don't know, Sheriff. I wish I did."
    "Rachel Ryan remembers her, said she was really nice, nothing
    new there. She also said that Melissa didn't ever dress in sexy
    clothes. She was surprised when I told her about the Calvin Klein jeans and that skimpy pink top. She couldn't remember Melissa
    ever wearing anything suggestive. Maybe you're right, Ms. Powell.
    Maybe it was her boyfriend. But you know? I can just see a cute

young girl waltzing over into Jacob Marley's yard, him seeing her
    and getting all het up. Did he smash her?"
    Becca said, "Maybe she was off to meet her boyfriend and coming
    into Jacob Marley's yard was a shortcut."
    "Ain't no shortcut to anywhere," said Sheriff Gaffney. "The back
    of the Marley property trails off into thick woods and finally stops
    at the ocean."
    "Maybe," Sherlock said, "the jeans and top were her cute traveling
    clothes. Maybe she did intend to elope, maybe she decided at
    the last minute that she didn't want to and this boy got mad and
    killed her."
    Sheriff Gaffney said slowly, "Who are you?" "Oh, sorry, Sheriff," Adam said. "Sherlock and Savich here are
    friends of mine. They just stopped in for a while to visit the town."
    "Nice to meet you, ma'am. Now, that's not a bad idea. I guess
    I'd have to say that for a woman you deduced that real logically,
    probably better than most other women."
    Savich, who heard that, wondered if Sherlock was going to take a flying leap at the sheriff's throat.
    "Yeah," Sherlock said thoughtfully,