The man in the wigwam just stared up at Riley with wide gray eyes. Riley’s attention snapped back and forth from the vagrant to the big sand timer in front of him. She found it hard to decide which was the most startling.
Rags Tucker had long grayish hair and a beard that hung down to his waist. His tattered, loosely fitting clothes suited his name.
Naturally she wondered…
Is this guy a suspect?
She found that hard to believe. His limbs were thin and spindly, and he seemed hardly robust enough to have carried out either one of these arduous murders. He fairly exuded a sense of harmlessness.
Riley also suspected that his scruffy appearance was something of a pose. He didn’t smell bad, at least from where she stood, and his clothes looked clean in spite of all their wear and tear.
As for the sand timer, it looked much like the one they’d found back near the path. It was more than two feet tall, with wavy ridges carved on the top and three skillfully carved rods holding the frame together.
It wasn’t identical to the other one, though. For one thing, the wood wasn’t as dark – more of a reddish brown. Although the carved patterns were similar, they didn’t look like exact replicas of the designs they’d seen on the first sand timer.
But those small variations weren’t the most important differences between the two.
The greatest contrast was in the sand that marked passing time. In the timer that Bill had found among the trees, all of the sand was in the bottom globe. But in this timer, most of the sand was still in the top globe.
This sand was in motion, trickling slowly into the globe below.
Riley felt sure of one thing – that the killer had meant them to find this timer, as surely as he’d meant them to find the other one.
Tucker finally spoke. “How’d you know I had it?” he asked Riley.
Riley produced her badge.
“I’ll ask the questions, if you don’t mind,” she said in a non-threatening voice. “How did you get it?”
Tucker shrugged.
“It was a gift,” he said.
“From whom?” Riley asked.
“From the gods, maybe. It dropped from the sky, the best I can figure. When I first looked outside this morning, I saw it right away, over there on the blankets with my other stuff. I brought it inside and went back to sleep. Then I woke up again, and I’ve been just sitting here watching it for a while.”
He stared hard at the sand timer.
“I’ve never watched time actually pass before,” he said. “It’s a unique experience. Sort of feels like time is passing slowly and fast at the same time. And there’s a feeling of inevitability about it. You can’t turn back time, as they say.”
Riley asked Tucker, “Was the sand running like this when you found it, or did you turn it over?”
“I kept it just like it was,” Tucker said. “Do you think I’d dare change the flow of time? I don’t mess with cosmic matters like that. I’m not that stupid.”
No, he’s not stupid at all, Riley thought.
She felt that she was beginning to understand Rags Tucker better with each bit of their conversation. This addled and ragged beachcomber persona of his was carefully cultivated for the entertainment of visitors. He’d turned himself into a local attraction here at Belle Terre. And from what Chief Belt had told her about him, Riley knew that he made a modest living at it. He had established himself as a local fixture and gained unspoken permission to live exactly where he wanted to be.
Rags Tucker was here to entertain and to be entertained.
It dawned on Riley that this was a delicate situation.
She needed to get that sand timer away from him. She wanted to do that quickly and without raising a fuss about it.
But would he be willing to give it to her?
Although she knew the laws about search and seizure perfectly well, she wasn’t at all sure about how they applied to a vagrant living in a wigwam on public property.
She’d much rather take care of this without getting a warrant. But she had to proceed carefully.
She told Tucker, “We think it may have been left here by whoever committed the two murders.”
Tucker’s eyes widened.
Then Riley said, “We need to take this timer with us. It could be important evidence.”
Tucker shook his head slowly.
He said, “You’re forgetting the law of the beach.”
“What’s that?” Riley said.
“‘Finders keepers.’ Besides, if this really is a gift from the gods, I’d better not part with it. I don’t want to violate the will of the cosmos.”
Riley studied his expression. She could tell that he wasn’t crazy or delusional – although he might sometimes act like it. That was just part of the show.
No, this particular vagrant knew exactly what he was doing and saying.
He’s doing business, Riley thought.
Riley opened her wallet, took out a twenty-dollar bill, and offered it to him.
She said, “Maybe this will help sort things out with the cosmos.”
Tucker grinned ever so slightly.
“I don’t know,” he said. “The universe is getting pretty pricy these days.”
Riley felt like she was getting the hang of the man’s game, and also how she could play along.
She said, “It’s always expanding, huh?”
“Yeah, ever since the Big Bang,” Tucker said. He rubbed his fingers together and added, “And I hear it’s going through a new inflationary phase.”
Riley couldn’t help but admire the man’s shrewdness – and his creativity. She figured she’d better settle a deal with him before the conversation got too deep for her to make any sense out of.
She took another twenty-dollar bill out of her wallet.
Tucker snatched both twenties out of her hand.
“It’s yours,” he said. “Take good care of it. I’ve got a feeling there’s something really powerful about that thing.”
Riley found herself thinking that he was right about that – probably more right than he could know.
With a grin, Rags Tucker added, “I think you can handle it.”
Bill put on his gloves again and approached the timer to pick it up.
Riley told him, “Be careful, keep it as steady as you can. We don’t want to interfere with how fast it’s running.”
As Bill picked up the timer, Riley said to Tucker, “Thanks for your help. We might come back to ask more questions. I hope you’ll be available.”
Tucker shrugged and said, “I’ll be here.”
As they turned to go, Chief Belt asked Riley, “How much time do you think is left before all the sand runs into the bottom?”
Riley remembered that the ME had said both murders had taken place around six o’clock in the morning. Riley looked at her watch. It was now nearly eleven. She did a little math in her head.
Riley said to Belt, “The sand will run out in about nineteen hours.”
“What happens then?” Belt asked.
“Somebody dies,” Riley said.
Riley couldn’t get Rags Tucker’s words out of her mind.
“There’s a feeling of inevitability about it.”
She and her colleagues were making their way back along the beach toward the crime scene. Bill was carrying the sand timer, and Jenn and Chief Belt flanked him to help him keep the timer steady. They were trying to avoid affecting the flow of sand in the timer. And of course that falling sand was what Rags had been talking about.
Inevitability.
Even as she shuddered at the thought, she realized that was exactly the effect the killer had in mind.
He wanted them to feel a tightening knot of inevitability about his upcoming murder.
It was his way of psyching them out.
Riley knew that they mustn’t let themselves get too rattled, but she worried that it wasn’t going to be easy.
As she trudged through the sand, she took out her cell phone and called Brent Meredith.
When he answered, she said, “Sir, we’ve got a serious situation on her hands.”
“What is it?” Meredith asked.
“Our killer is going to strike every twenty-four hours.”
“Jesus,” Meredith said. “How do you know?”
Riley was on the verge of explaining everything to him, but thought better of it. It would be better if he could actually see both of the timers.
“We’re on our way back to the SUV,” Riley said. “As soon as we’re there, I’ll call you for a video conference.”
Riley ended the call just as they got back to the crime scene. Belt’s cops were still scrounging through the marsh grass searching for clues. The cops’ mouths dropped open at the sight of Bill carrying the enormous timer.
“What the hell’s that?” one of the cops asked.
“Evidence,” Belt said.
It occurred to Riley that the last thing they wanted right now was for reporters to get a look at the timer. If that happened, rumors would really start flying, making the situation worse than it already was. And there would surely be reporters still lurking in the parking area. They already knew that two people had been buried alive. They weren’t going to give up on that story.
She turned to Chief Belt and asked, “Could I borrow your jacket?”
Belt took off his jacket and handed it to her. Riley carefully draped it over the sand timer, covering it completely.
“Come on,” Riley said to Bill and Jenn. “Let’s try to get this to our vehicle without attracting too much attention.”
However, when she and her two colleagues stepped outside the tape barrier, Riley saw that more reporters had arrived. They crowded around Bill, demanding to know what he was carrying.
Riley felt a jolt of alarm as they pressed against Bill, who was trying to keep the sand timer as steady as he could. The jostling alone might be enough to interfere with the sand flow. Worse still, someone might knock the timer out of Bill’s hands.
She said to Jenn, “We’ve got to keep them clear of Bill.”
She and Jenn pushed their way into the group, ordering them to back away.
The reporters obeyed surprisingly easily and stood around gawking.
Riley quickly realized…
They probably think this is a bomb.
After all, that possibility had occurred to her and her colleagues back in the woods when Bill had uncovered the first sand timer.
Riley cringed at the thought of the headlines that might soon appear, and the panic that might follow.
She said sharply to the reporters, “It’s not an explosive device. It’s just evidence. And it’s delicate.”
She was answered by a renewed chorus of voices asking what it was.
Riley shook her head and turned away from them. Bill had made his way to the SUV, so she and Jenn hurried to catch up with him. They got inside and carefully secured the new sand timer next to the other one, which was strapped in place and covered with a blanket.
The reporters quickly regrouped and surrounded the van, yelling questions again.
Riley let out a groan of frustration. They’d never get anything done with prying people all around them.
Riley got behind the wheel and slowly began to drive. An especially determined reporter tried to block her way, standing directly in front of the vehicle. She let out a blast of the vehicle’s siren, sending the startled guy scurrying off. Then she drove the SUV away, leaving the gaggle of reporters behind.
After driving about half a mile, Riley found a fairly secluded place where she could park the vehicle.
Then she told Jenn and Bill, “First things first. We need to dust the sand timers for fingerprints right away.”
Bill nodded and said, “There’s a kit in the glove compartment.”
As Jenn and Bill started to work, Riley got out her computer tablet and made a video call to Brent Meredith.
To her surprise, Meredith’s wasn’t the only face that appeared on her screen. There were eight other faces, including a babyish, freckle-faced visage that Riley was anything but happy to see.
It was Special Agent in Charge Carl Walder, Meredith’s superior at the BAU.
Riley suppressed a groan of discouragement. She’d been at odds with Carl Walder many times. In fact, he’d suspended and even fired her on several occasions.
But why was he in on this call?
With a barely disguised growl, Meredith said, “Agent Paige, Chief Walder has been kind enough to join us for this conversation. And he’s put together a team to help us on this case.”
When Riley saw the annoyed expression on Meredith’s face, she understood the situation perfectly.
Carl Walder had been monitoring the case all morning. As soon as he found out that Riley had asked for a videoconference with Meredith, he’d summoned his own group of agents to join in. Right now they were all sitting in their separate offices and cubicles at the BAU with their computers set up for conferencing.
Riley couldn’t help but scowl. Poor Brent Meredith must have felt like he’d been ambushed. Riley was sure that Walder was grandstanding, as usual. And by bringing in a team of his own, he was brazenly signaling his lack of confidence in Riley’s professionalism.
Fortunately, some of the people Walder had brought in were people she’d worked with and trusted. She saw Sam Flores, a nerdish and brilliant lab technician, and Craig Huang, a promising young field agent she’d helped mentor.
Even so, the last thing she needed right now was a team of people to manage and organize. She knew she’d function best working with just Bill and Jenn.
Looking quite pleased with himself, Carl Walder spoke.
“I hear you’ve got some information for us, Agent Paige. Encouraging news, I hope.”
Riley swallowed her anger. She was sure he already knew otherwise.
“I’m afraid not, sir,” she said.
She held her tablet so the group could see the sand timers that Bill and Jenn were deftly dusting for prints.
Riley said, “As you can see, Agents Jeffreys and Roston are here working with me. We found a sand timer at each of the two murder scenes. The one that’s empty was hidden near the first body. We found the one that’s still running not far away from where the second victim was buried. We estimate that it’s going to run out at about six o’clock tomorrow morning.”
Riley could hear audible gasps and saw the shock on all the faces on the screen – except for Walder’s.
“What do you think it means?” Walder asked blandly.
Riley managed not to sneer with contempt. Walder was obviously the only person in the group who hadn’t figured it out instantly.
Riley said, “It means, sir, that someone else is going to die when the glass runs out. And whoever it is will be buried alive, just like the first two victims.”
Walder’s eyes widened.
“That can’t happen,” he said. “I order you not to let it happen.”
Riley’s exasperation was rising. As usual, Walder was giving perfectly pointless orders – as if anybody here needed to be told that a third murder had to be prevented.
Walder turned his own computer to display the clock on his office wall.
He said, “It’s now one o’clock. We’re not going to let the clock run out. And we’re not giving the media enough time to cause a panic. They’re already moving on this story. I expect you to apprehend the killer before six o’clock tonight. And now I’ll leave you to your work.”
Carl Walder abruptly disappeared from the screen. Riley could see relief on all the other faces. She also knew that they were thinking exactly what she was thinking. Walder had made just enough of an appearance to throw his weight around and seem to be in charge. Taking any real leadership responsibility wasn’t his style.
And what about his six o’clock deadline?
Well, obviously, he wanted the case wrapped up before he went home to dinner. That way he could take full credit for solving it without a lot of trouble for himself.
Anyway, now they could get down to business.
Riley asked, “First of all, are there any questions?”
“What have you got in the way of a profile on the killer?” Craig Huang asked.
“Not much just yet,” Riley said. “I’ve got a gut-level feeling about him. I suspect that he’s personally quite charming, and that people might actually trust him when they first meet him.”
Riley turned to Bill and Jenn, who were still dusting the timer and listening to the conversation.
“Do either of you have anything to add?” Riley asked them.
Jenn said, “The killer must be physically robust.”
“That’s right,” Bill said. “These killings involved a lot of digging and carrying, and one of the victims was physically assaulted. He might not be especially big, but he’s in pretty good shape.”
Sam Flores, the technician, spoke up.
“I see that Agents Jeffreys and Roston are dusting for prints. Any luck with that yet?”
Bill and Jenn had almost finished dusting the first timer.
“None at all,” Bill said. “It looks like the killer wiped it down carefully before leaving it.”
Riley felt a flash of discouragement. If the killer had taken such care with the first timer, he’d surely done the same with the second. The only prints they’d find on it would be Rags Tucker’s.
Sam said, “Could you give me a better look at the timers?”
Riley moved the tablet all around the timers so Sam could look at them more carefully.
Sam said, “Those are some pretty distinctive markings. Both timers are carved in the same style, but there are some interesting variations. Do you think they might be some kind of code?”
“That’s a good thought,” Riley said. “We’ll take close-ups and send them to you. You can do some research, see if the marks mean anything. But I want you to do something before that, while the rest of us are talking. See if you can locate any hourglass makers in this general area.”
“I’ll do that,” Sam said.
She could hear his fingers clicking on his keyboard.
Riley thought hard and fast, trying to decide how to deal with the others.
She said, “Agent Engel, I want you to get in touch with Parker Belt, the chief of police in Sattler. Get as much information as you can about the victims and their families, also the people who discovered the bodies. Share whatever you find out with the others here.”
All the people on the screen were dutifully taking notes now.
Riley continued, “Agent Whittington, pay a visit to the first victim’s family. Agent Craft, do the same with the second victim’s family. Agent Geraty, see if you can interview the people who found the bodies. Agent Ridge, get in touch with the district ME and see if he’s got any new information about how the victims died.”
She thought for a moment.
Then she said, “Agent Huang, you’re the point man for the team. Stay in touch with everybody and keep track of their progress. Also see what you can do about handling the media. This whole thing is liable to get out of control if we’re not careful.”
Huang asked, “Shouldn’t we close off the whole park to visitors, especially around the time in question?”
“Good idea,” Riley said. “Call Chief Belt and get that underway. Also help him send out a general warning to the community.”
Riley breathed a little easier now that she’d assigned jobs to everybody.
Meanwhile, Sam Flores had finished his search.
He said, “I’ve found an hourglass maker with a workshop near Colonial Williamsburg. His name is Ellery Kuhl. I’ll email you the address.”
“Good work,” Riley said. “Flores, I also need you to search for any similar murders that have been committed anywhere else recently – live burials, I mean. Now get started, everybody. The clock is running out. Literally.”
She ended the meeting and said to Bill and Jenn, “Stop dusting for prints and take lots of detailed pictures and send them to Sam Flores. I’ll drive us to Colonial Williamsburg.”
As she started to drive, she remembered something else that Rags Tucker had said.
“You can’t turn back time, as they say.”
She glanced at her watch and saw that the meeting had taken about a half hour.
She hoped it hadn’t been a waste of time. It was thirty minutes they weren’t going to get back.
And it could mean the difference between life and death.
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