Sarah Benadine is Dead

Chapter I, Part III

David Sheffield drummed his fingers impatiently on the countertop as he listened to the phone ring. The clock on the kitchen told him it was 9:22; late, very late to be calling, but hopefully Clifford hadn't gone home yet. He wasn't sure this could wait until morning.

"Hello, Clearwater Police Department."

"Hey, Sally," Sheffield said, adjusting his grip on the telephone. "This is David Sheffield."

"Oh, hiya Dave." Sally Burton's cheerful voice filled the line. "How ya doing?"

"Just fine," Sheffield replied. "Listen, is Clifford still there? I have to talk to him about something pretty important."

"Oh, lucky you, you're just catching him," Sally said. "Five more minutes and he would've been gone. I'll get him right over."

"Thanks, Sally, you're a lifesaver."

The line was quiet for barely a second, and then Clifford Dent was on the other side.

"Hey, Dave, what can I do for ya?"

"Look, Cliff, I hate to put you through any trouble, but there's something I really need to know about Sarah Benadine. It's pretty urgent."

Clifford sighed. "Are you thinking...? Well, you must be thinking, otherwise you wouldn't be calling."

"I wish I wasn't, Cliff," Sheffield said gravely. "I really wish I wasn't."

"Yeah, you and me both. All right, what do you need to know?"

"Did you see anything on her hand, Cliff? Her right hand. Anything at all."

"Her right hand? Hmm...I don't remember...just a second." There was a faint shuffling on the other side of the line. "Ah, here we go...the coroner noted a black 'X' pattern on her right hand; looked like pen or marker of some kind, but it wouldn't come off under water."

Sheffield held the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. So he was right, then.

"That help you, Dave?" Clifford asked. Sheffield almost wanted to laugh at that; help was certainly not the word.

"Yeah...yeah, thanks Cliff."

"I'm going to be hearing a lot more from you, aren't I?" They both already knew the answer.

"I'm afraid so."

Clifford sighed a second time. "Thought so. All right, you take care of yourself, Dave. Be careful."

Sheffield nodded absently. "Same to you."

They said their goodbyes quickly, and Sheffield hung up the phone. He slumped against the counter wearily; he could feel a headache coming on.

Oh, Sarah. You never stood a chance.