20

Chief Talbert, I m glad you called. Vera swallowed against the burn of that whopping lie. I ve just been on pins and needles waiting to hear something. That part was mostly true.

I wish I could say I had good news, Vera. He exhaled a big breath.

Vera held hers. He d braced her for the worst. The idea that she was just a little surprised was ridiculous. She had known this was coming. There were no other conclusions or decisions to be reached. Someone had to pay for what happened. End of story. Made complete sense that the one to pay would be the one who made the mistake. God knows the other two involved had already paid the ultimate price.

I understand, she said, bracing her free hand on her hip to stem its shaking. She refused to sound weak or cowardly about this. Just tell me how this is going to happen, and be done with it.

The investigation has concluded that Detective Bedwell was not without fault in all this, Talbert explained. There were things said and actions taken that may have led Detective Carver to believe he was interested in a relationship.

When that news had come out, Vera had been blindsided. She was completely unaware of any inappropriate behavior on Detective Bedwell s part, much less his connection to Detective Carver s husband, Lee. Just another of Vera s epic failures. She felt compelled to repeat her previous statement on the matter. Neither Detective Bedwell nor Detective Carver showed any inappropriate behavior in the workplace. Not once.

Every member of the team has confirmed as much, he agreed. Apparently it was all an act-on Bedwell s part-kept carefully away from everyone, save Detective Carver. Detective Carver was suing her soon-to-be ex-husband for half of certain assets, and he needed to prove she had cheated on him to get her off his back.

The words stung like a slap. Vera started to pace. Couldn t help herself. Lorna had insisted she hadn t needed any extra time off to sort out her personal issues. How could she have fooled Vera so completely?

Detective Carver had no idea what was happening between her husband and Detective Bedwell until the day of the event. We ve learned the two went to college together-I believe you ve been made aware they had a history.

Yes. Vera s throat constricted with the idea that this went far deeper than just old acquaintances.

They were buddies. They d lost touch years ago, until Bedwell joined PAPA. To get to the point, Bedwell agreed to help Lee Carver prove his wife was unfaithful, since apparently, the man had done him a similar favor some years back. We have no idea what that favor was, since the husband has lawyered up and isn t talking.

Oh dear God. This was even more twisted than she had known. He set Lorna up.

What the hell was wrong with people? Vera had not recognized what was happening, because there was no way to see it if Lorna truly believed all was well. As for Bedwell, he was only returning a favor . . . he wasn t worried or upset in any way. It was just a ruse. A game.

One that ultimately got him and Lorna killed.

He did. It was all supposed to be quick and painless, except Lorna found out and, well, you know what happened then. Either way, she snapped, went over the edge, taking Bedwell with her. The DA is working on the charges that will be brought against Lee Carver for his part in this. It s a real nightmare here, Vee.

The silence that followed was more telling than anything Talbert could have said.

Just say the rest, she told him. Why put it off?

The recommendation is that you be relieved from duty and reassigned. I m sorry, Vera. No matter that we can see this couldn t possibly have been your fault, the powers that be need a scapegoat. I m working on the reassignment part. But don t worry, I ll find the right place for you.

Vera forced herself to take a breath. No, she said tightly. That s not necessary, Chief. Although I appreciate the offer, I ll tender my resignation, and this will be done.

No. The MPD needs you, Vera. The urgency in his voice underscored his words.

I appreciate your saying so, but we both know what needs to happen. She battled back the sting of emotion. The MPD needs to evict me from its ranks and move on from this. Let s not pretend it will fade away, Will. She rarely called her boss by his first name, no matter that they had been friends for a very long time. I ll be fine. Really. You don t need to worry about me.

Vera, he argued, you are far too valuable a resource for us to lose. We need you.

Her lips trembled into a smile. I appreciate your saying so, but let s not beat around the bush here. This is the best for all involved. Her gaze locked on Bent. I have to go, Will. Take care of yourself and the team. Maybe we ll talk again sometime. She ended the call before he could argue.

Their team. PAPA had been their brainchild, his and hers. Now it was his. At this point, she had no problem with that. She had bigger troubles right here in her hometown. She d just have to figure out where her life went once this was done.

Assuming the answer wasn t prison.

She groaned, slid her phone back into her pocket, and strode toward the other man who held the rest of her life in his hands.

And all this time she d thought she was in charge of her own destiny. Turns out she had control over nothing at all.

You okay?

Are you seriously looking at my father as a suspect in the murder of my stepmother? she demanded. She could not talk about Memphis right now. Instead, she made a face and snapped, Why wouldn t I be okay?

He held his hands up. Dumb question.

When she stood directly in front of him, she said, You didn t answer my question.

Your father was closest to Sheree, but I personally have no reason to believe he did this. Officially, since Sheree was his wife, he has to be ruled out-the same way Fraley ruled him out last time. You know the way this works.

She did. Her point was to see if there was more than relationship dynamics at play. The discovery of those additional remains changed everything. All right. She gestured to the facility they d just exited. Clearly ruling him out won t be easy, considering his condition and the new development in the cave, so what now?

We need to talk about what we know so far.

Vera thought that was what they were doing, but maybe there was more he had been holding back. He surely was aware Eve had passed along his thoughts from this morning. Where would you like to do this?

There s something I d like to show you back at my place.

She raised her eyebrows at him. That sounded exactly like something the old Bent would have said.

About the case, he added. He held up three fingers with his thumb holding his pinkie finger down. Scout s honor.

Vera rolled her eyes. Yeah, right. Like he d ever been a Boy Scout.

They climbed into his truck, and on the drive back to his place, she concentrated on trying to put Memphis out of her mind. She supposed she should be grateful that for her it was over, but somehow she couldn t summon any gratitude.

No matter how many cases she had helped to close or how much hard work she had put in toward that effort, this single event would haunt her name forevermore in that department. Going back wasn t an option. That life was over . . . all because of a cheating, scumbag husband.

Since she d cleared out her office when she left, no worries about that. The only detail hanging over her head in Memphis was her town house. The best option would be to pay out the lease and walk away. A moving company could pack up her things and ship them . . . where?

Where the hell would she go?

Will-Chief Talbert-would give her a good recommendation, but that wouldn t be worth all that much, with the situation in Memphis still dominating the news cycles. It would take time for the smoke to clear and for people to stop remembering her in association with a preventable tragedy.

As they turned onto Bent s driveway, the landscape drew her from the painful thoughts. Vera leaned forward, not wanting to miss a single nuance of the picturesque view . . . the way the trees stood against the sky. A bird dipping down to land on a limb. The horses galloping along the fence line, keeping pace with Bent s truck. It was like a painting come to life.

Even after two years, I ask myself every day, What the hell did I do to deserve this.

She studied his profile a moment. When had he turned into such a sentimental guy? After he grew up, maybe, she realized. They had been just stupid kids two-plus decades ago. Kids with unhappy home lives who needed something or someone to grab onto. The truth was, she didn t know Bent the man.

She looked away from him. The dead-last thing she needed to do was to get caught up in learning him.

I m glad you re happy, Bent, but why are we here?

He parked in front of the cottage. Come on. I ll show you. He reached for his door and climbed out.

Vera did the same, just a little slower. The weight pressing down on her shoulders suddenly became all the clearer, all the heavier. She couldn t salvage her career. Her family was all she had left just now, and protecting them was paramount.

Whatever she had to do . . . whatever the cost.

Bent walked past the cottage, and she followed. That leisurely swagger somehow managed to draw her attention, despite current circumstances. She shook her head. She really was losing it.

His destination appeared to be a smaller structure. Sort of looked like a potting shed. What on earth would he be doing in a potting shed?

He unlocked the padlock on the door and reached in to turn on a light. Then he gestured for her to go in ahead of him.

She did. Even though she couldn t deny that the ridiculous idea he planned to lock her in here for some reason kept playing in her head. Maybe to interrogate her. After all, he d spent twenty years in the military. She was familiar with their interrogation techniques through her training with the CIA. Cold rushed over her skin despite the heat clinging to her clothing as she stepped inside.

Don t be ridiculous, Vee. You are not afraid of this man.

She was only afraid of what he might discover during the course of his investigation.

As if the thought had guided her, her gaze landed on a large whiteboard on the far side of the room. Photos of the remains and the crime scene populated the board.

This was his home office.

A smile tugged at her lips as she relaxed a little. Wow.

She walked deeper into the climate-controlled space. There were two such boards. Both standing on wheeled legs. In addition to the photos, the first board was also covered with notes about the case. The final image on the second row of photos showed the most recent set of remains, with some amount of dark fleshy material that was a nasty combo of what had once been skin, organs, and other tissue. It was no doubt hard and crusty now, still working with the environment to disappear from the bones. If left on its own, it would likely be gone completely in a couple more years.

This was the victim from about three years ago. The proverbial wrench in the works.

The second whiteboard had a canvas tarp or drop cloth thrown over whatever was on it. Very thorough work, Sheriff.

A little something I learned during my last five years in the army, working with CID.

She turned to him. He d removed his hat and tossed it onto a table she hadn t even noticed standing in the middle of the room. A desk of sorts, she decided. There were bookcases too. File cabinets. Everything one needed to stay organized.

His statement filtered through the surprise still swaddling her brain. You spent five years in the Criminal Investigation Division of the military?

He nodded. A lieutenant from CID had been assigned with our unit during a mission, and he was impressed with my work. He didn t shut up until I agreed to a transfer. It came with an instant promotion. Why wouldn t I be game once he told me that part?

Which likely meant the promotion offer had come from above in order to achieve their goal. The government was like that. When they wanted something, they didn t stop until they got it. This would suggest that Bent had done quite well with his military career.

The man was one surprise after another.

Vera turned around slowly and took in the other details of the space once more. The bookcases that lined the walls were actually filled with books. Were those law books? She wandered over to check, and sure enough, they were. The file cabinets sat next to those. The table, desk, whatever in the center of the space was like a big conference table made from two-by-fours and plywood-all obviously salvaged from somewhere on the property, since the patina screamed vintage. Two stools stood beneath the table.

This is your private war room. She turned to him then. Do you bring your deputies here to work out cases with you?

He shook his head. This is just for me. His forehead furrowed in thought. And now you.

She wanted to be flattered, but she decided not just yet. No letting this become personal. Why is the other whiteboard covered?

He waited a moment, and in those few seconds she understood there was something more he needed to tell her about the case. A detail or details that would change everything.

Oh hell.

He took the few steps required to reach the other whiteboard and methodically folded and removed the covering so as not to disturb what was underneath. She studied the items and words there. Bent had made a list of potential suspects and motives. Her throat went bone dry as she read her name, Eve s name. Their father s. Garth Rimmey and his friend Pete Brooks. Howard Benton-his own father. Along with various other prominent men of Fayetteville. An arrow from each name pointed to a motive. Yet another pointed to opportunity, and yet another to means.

Somehow she managed to draw in a breath. Instinctively her arms folded over her chest. Vera turned to her host. All the heat in her body felt as if it had rushed out through her feet, leaving an icy cold behind. I see you made your suspect list a family affair. Is this seriously all you ve been able to come up with? Surely there was more than this in the old case file on Sheree s disappearance.

He continued to stare at her, and her knees knocked together a little, and she struggled to steady herself. Bent moved in next to her-right next to her-which only unnerved her further. He surveyed the list and then turned to her once more, searched her face, then her eyes. That definitely didn t help either. She dropped her shoulder bag to the floor and braced her hands on her hips.

Keep it together. No losing it in front of this man. Look at this like work-just another case being investigated by your team.

Except she didn t have a team anymore. She didn t have a job anymore.

The bottom dropped from her stomach.

You have a name or two you want to add?

You didn t answer my question, she said, attempting to sound unaffected.

Rimmey and your father were the only suspects when Sheree disappeared, he said. His deep voice was calm, and despite the subject matter, it still got to her somehow.

Vera worked to compose herself against the feelings he prompted. Your killer has to be someone strong enough to hoist the bodies through those tight passages. Someone who knew enough about my family and our farm to feel no concern going to the cave to carry out this task.

He nodded. You re right. Which to me suggests the killer is male.

Vera turned her back on the boards and walked a few steps away. She knew what he was thinking. Her father was the one. Damn it! But the newly discovered remains indicated the person they were looking for had killed before Sheree and after . Could Eve s off-the-cuff theory be right? Their father had done these things but stopped, and then the dementia prompted his old ways . . . his old needs.

No. Her father was not a killer. Certainly not a serial killer. This didn t make sense. She abandoned that line of thinking and opted to center on taking herself and her family out of this equation. The good news, it seemed, was that Bent was actively looking for other suspects.

I believe our initial assessment that this might be a serial killer is a logical one. The need to breathe had her inhaling deeply. Either that, or we have more than one killer.

From the moment she learned about the additional remains, she knew this was no coincidence. That cave had been used as a dumping ground. There was no other explanation. Absolutely there was more than one killer. She knew this with complete certainty. The problem was, she couldn t press her certainty about that without giving a reason.

Sheree was that reason.

Vera could not go there. But she could suggest options.

The TBI agrees with the serial killer scenario, Bent admitted. They want to call in the FBI.

Of course they did. No unit or agency wanted to deal with a situation like this one unless they had no choice. The investigation could go on for years. Resources would be sucked dry. But there was something else, she realized. Bent hadn t said he believed this was the work of a serial killer. Very likely this was a fishing expedition. He hadn t brought her here just to show off his cool home office. This was about getting her take on the case.

She moistened her lips and asked the next logical question. Do you have any evidence pointing to a suspect? Surely in all this-Vera turned back to the photos-they had found some little thing. Any damned thing. No one deposited multiple victims without screwing up somehow. Well, almost no one.

He shook his head. Nothing so far. No shoe prints anywhere. Not one thing was left behind. The killer or killers were very careful with cleanup. There aren t even any indications of drag marks, and we both know those bodies had to be dragged through those damned tunnellike holes. I can only assume he or she or they covered any and all tracks each time. He shrugged. Then again, time and visiting animals could have done the same.

The words echoed in her brain. The accompanying images clicked past, one after the other. She and Eve hadn t covered their tracks like that . . . it hadn t occurred to them. Then our killer is smart. Methodical. Neat. Obsessively so. Vera did an about-face and walked back to the first whiteboard. She surveyed the images and notes there. Are any of the victims besides Sheree from the area?

Don t know yet.

Vera felt sick. What do you make of Sheree being apart from all the others? She faced him then. Needed to hear his voice and see his face in hopes of assessing the thoughts beneath the words he spoke. Turnabout was fair play, wasn t it?

Was he thinking the same thing she was? How could he be? He didn t know the things she knew.

His hesitation put her further on edge. Had her holding her breath again.

When our killer was in the market for a hiding place, Bent began, the cave on your property fit the bill, which tells me he s a local. He used the secondary cavern so his victims wouldn t be found by just anyone.

But why would he leave Sheree away from the others? It was the question he would expect her to ask.

Another pause had her nerves jangling.

Because I don t think he killed Sheree.

The impact of the statement blasted against her chest. So he wasn t convinced this was a serial killer. He was leaning toward the multiple-killers theory.

Wait. Vera reached down deep for the mettle she needed. There are many similarities between the female victims. Even the timeline fits. How did you come to that conclusion? She wasn t cutting him any slack. He wouldn t expect her to.

Maybe, he argued, whoever killed Sheree posed her the way the other victims in the cave had been posed so that whoever found her would believe she was a victim of the same killer. She s the only one who had a suitcase with her. Sheree s killer definitely knew her. He knew her well, and he was aware of her marital issues. He used that knowledge to make it look as if she d run out on her husband and kid.

Vera remained steady, despite the fact that the damned floor had just shifted under her feet. Not because she was surprised he d concluded Sheree wasn t a part of the other killings . . . but because he d nailed several details and the associated motive so damned close. Eve had said Bent was a good sheriff. Clearly she was right.

Maybe she had her things with her because she was running away, Vera suggested. She crossed paths with the killer, and that s why the MO was a little different.

What she wouldn t give for a glass of water. Her throat felt so dry she couldn t swallow if her life depended upon it.

I don t know, Bent countered. If someone stumbled upon the cave and the victims that were already there-it was the perfect setup to add Sheree to the lineup. The authorities would tie all the murders together. The same way we ve talked about. He gave a dry laugh. I can just imagine the original killer s surprise if he returned for a visit and found Sheree there looking like one of his victims.

He was confident-too confident-in this scenario. That was his only mistake. Once an investigator locked onto a scenario, he put on blinders. Seeing anything else after that was nearly impossible. Did this work in their favor? Vera couldn t say yet.

Then you re convinced that we have two killers, she tossed out.

Two killers, for sure. Maybe three, considering how the male vic was disposed of. The TBI still wants to toy with the idea of a serial killer, but like I said, I m not really buying it.

Breathe. She moved to the nearest stool and slid onto it rather than risk her knees buckling beneath her. No matter that she d investigated and analyzed evidence from hundreds of cases . . . as he d said before, this was personal.

She moistened her lips again and asked the question that had to be raised. What does the TBI think of your theory?

I haven t told them.

Why? She couldn t wait to hear his answer. Call her a glutton for punishment. Actually, call her desperate.

I want to find out who killed Sheree before I put that scenario out there.

Why? she repeated, every part of her anticipating his next words-the ones that could change everything . . . that could end everything.

Because I want to be sure I know all there is to know first. Chances are, the others will come up with the same conclusion, but until then, I m dragging it out for the extra time.

All you need to know? she echoed as she pretended to study the case boards. What does that mean? Could he possibly be afraid it was Eve or her who d done this? Was this his way of giving them an out or a heads-up? It sure sounded that way.

Or a clever way of getting her to confess? A distraction to confuse her or make her overconfident.

Impossible to know just yet.

It means preparation is the key, he said. His lips tilted upward slightly at her startled expression. I watched an interview where you said that. I want to be prepared before I go tossing out scenarios to another agency.

She couldn t argue the point. It s a good strategy. Deep breath. There s always the possibility that the male victim killed the three females. Then, years later, someone close to one or all three learned his identity and had his or her revenge. She watched for his reaction. It was as reasonable a theory as any other.

Maybe. There s still a lot to learn about the other victims, he admitted. We believe the two female victims found together were possibly best friends. We believe the male vic may have attended the University of Alabama-based on the ring he wore.

She moved closer to the board, studied the photos of the crime scene. Where are the photos of the rings and the necklaces you mentioned before?

He withdrew his cell. I didn t stop by the office and pick them up, but I have them here. He passed her the phone.

Vera studied each of the photographs. The cross necklaces . . . the rings the women wore . . . and lastly the college ring that belonged to the male. Is that God in the inscription?

Bent chuckled. Yeah, Conover and I have a bet as to whether it was a nickname for how he viewed himself or an indication of his faith.

Vera noted the manufacturer and the year. It s not much. She handed the phone back to him. But it s something. I m just not clear on how this will help you with finding out who killed Sheree-unless it s the same killer?

Maybe it will help, he said. Maybe it won t. I just need more time.

How could she tell him that no amount of time would change the facts surrounding what happened to Sheree?

She couldn t . . . not for any reason.