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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.
Chapter Nine
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,”