"Are you sure that's what happened?"
"No, I'm not sure. Not all dogs do it. This dog doesn't have blood around its mouth as if it had killed and eaten something, though. The blood is only around the neck, but there is no injury in the neck area. And there's something else." From the pocket in her slacks she withdrew the note Lily had found. "Take a look at this."
" 'Their throat is an open tomb.' " Meredith's blue eyes flashed back at her. "Where did you get this?"
"Lily found it right over there." She nodded to the spot. "There were some leaves lying over most of it or rain would have obliterated the typing. I think that's blood on the edge."
"You think this note was left on her body?"
"Blood on the dog, blood on the note. The wind could have blown the note off the body." Meredith gave her a piercing look. She suddenly felt ridiculous, standing here spouting theories, but she couldn't stop. "The wind probably couldn't have blown the note free if it were trapped under all that foliage, though, so I think the limb fell later, after Tam was dead. Or injured," she trailed off, wilting under the intense blue gaze.
A piece of the limb crashed loose and the chain saw stopped. Natalie and Meredith watched as a male deputy dragged away debris and a female deputy moved closer to Tamara's body. In a moment she turned around. "Sheriff, I think you'd better take a look."
Meredith glanced at Jimmy Jenkins, who hovered nearby. "Jimmy, go home." Then he looked at her. "Dr. St. John, you stay here."
"I'll stay with you," Jimmy said staunchly. "You look like you could use a man around."
"Thank you," Natalie said, appreciating his offer. She kneeled by the dog, fondling its ears, talking to it, trying to shut out the horror of the situation. The dog licked her hands as if in gratitude. Gratitude for a few kind words and a gentle touch, Natalie thought, her throat tightening. Poor Tam. Poor dog. God, what a wretched day.
Gravel crunched beside her. She looked up. Meredith stood straight and tall, his strong-boned face grim. "I think you were right, Dr. St. John," he said, his voice 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, clearly annoyed by Ted's chattiness. "Get back to headquarters as soon as possible and don't talk to any reporters. I'll prepare a statement for later."
Ted's eyes flicked with resentment before he marched back to the patrol car. The sheriff had been a bit sharp with him, but Ted's nonstop talking would fray anyone's nerves.
"All right, Dr. St. John," Meredith said. "Let's get going. You don't look so good."
Natalie took a couple of steps toward the sheriff's car, then looked back at the dog. It lay on the grass, its amber gaze fastened on her. She hesitated for a moment, then tapped her thigh. "Come on, girl." The dog immediately ran to her.
Meredith stopped. "I thought that wasn't your dog."
"It isn't, but it's hungry and in need of medical attention."
"It's also not too clean."
"Are you saying you won't let it in your car? Because if so, I can call my father." Natalie was afraid he'd tell her to do so. "Dad is at the hospital now-he has a patient in critical condition-but I guess I can wait out here for him."
Meredith sighed, and she thought he half-suspected she was lying. "Okay, both of you get in. I can't just leave you here."
Thank goodness, Natalie thought. Meredith opened the rear car door. The dog hesitated. Natalie slid in and patted the vinyl seat. The dog hopped up beside her.
After Natalie told him her address, they drove in silence for a few minutes. Finally Meredith said, "You going to put an ad in the paper for that dog?"
"Maybe."
"You don't sound too anxious to find its home."
"I have a feeling it was dumped. Lost dogs usually have a collar and tags."
"And you'd like to keep it." Natalie looked in the rearview mirror and saw him smiling. He held his head low, tilted, and looked up at her with those incredibly blue eyes. "You remind me of my daughter."