Vanished in the Dunes by Allan Retzky Read Free Book Online Page A

balcony with a man, although most of his body and face have been cropped. Probably Henry, Posner thinks. Her face on the copy appears faded, as if she has already died; yet Posner manages to examine the documents without an obvious tremor invading his fingers.
    “So this woman is a doctor,” he says after a few minutes, somewhat proud of himself for his control. “We could always use more doctors out here.”
    Wisdom smiles and nods agreeably. “But only if we can find them.”
    This last comment alerts Posner. Some small bell rings in his head. Detective Wisdom has done his homework. Posner feels wariness,as if there is the possibility of some trap out there. Wisdom knows Posner was on the same bus, and also that Heidi had spoken to him, probably from the driver. The questions that follow, however, were less intrusive than what Posner had imagined.
    He says he vaguely remembers the woman because she asked him how to get to the beach from the bus stop and is unaware of any other conversations she had. He feels he has covered himself with a veneer of truth. In five minutes it is all over. Wisdom writes down Posner’s New York City phone number as well the one in Sara’s office.
    “It’s useful to know how we can reach potential witnesses,” Wisdom says, strictly methodical, like an accountant doing an audit. The comment makes Posner wonder whether Wisdom knows he has pending issues with the Justice Department, but the idea seems farfetched.
    “Well, thanks for your help,” Wisdom says as they walk down the stairs.
    Posner opens the front door, yet finds it impossible to ignore the presence of Wisdom standing on the very tiles where Heidi’s head split open. He wills himself into calm, yet feels the tremor of nausea rising in his throat.
    “Sorry I couldn’t be of more help,” he says as he pushes the door farther open.
    “It’s part of the process,” answers Wisdom. “We’ll call you again if we have any more questions. Thanks for your time. We know you’ve lived here for a number of years, so we won’t bother you again if we don’t have to.”
    Posner shakes the offered hand and immediately worries that his fingers were too damp or even trembling, but if so, Wisdom seems to take little notice. As soon as the door closes, Posner races to the nearest bathroom, gagging uncontrollably, but it was not until three hours later that he’d wondered whether Wisdom might have heard his spasmodic retching from the driveway.

    Posner realizes that innocence maybe a state of mind long before it becomes a legal issue. An observer may only glimpse a part of the truth, yet all sorts of preconceived views stir the pot of judgment. A day after Wisdom left, Posner remembers a vacation he and Sara had taken some ten years before to Israel. They stayed at a hotel on the Sea of Galilee. On the Friday morning they arrived, the hotel was already busy with Israelis away for the weekend, but by late Saturday afternoon most of the locals were gone, as Sunday was a workday.
    He and Sara lounged on adjoining chaises. At five in the afternoon, the lake shimmered in dwindling sunlight. The large pool, so filled just a day before with vacationers, was empty. A small tote bag stuffed with their wallets, credit cards, passports, and plane tickets rested under his chaise.
    They had treated themselves to a bottle of a decent local white wine, and by the second glass they had both eased into languid drowsiness, that never-never land barely a breath or two above sleep, impervious to all the traditional worries that flood daily life.
    And they both knew, without a word, that later, after raising themselves from drowsiness, there would be sex in the large bedroom with a view of the lake. And after showers there would be a quiet dinner of salad and St. Peter’s fish on the restaurant terrace, alone except for a few other random visitors and the odd waiter.
    He was on the edge of a dream when the shouts roused him. The words were in English, so