33

Benton Ranch

Old Molino Road, Fayetteville, 3:25 p.m.

Vera stood next to her SUV and waited for Bent to arrive.

The manilla folder in her hand felt as hot as the sun beating down on her. This late into July was like hell on earth in the South. Didn t help that her life suddenly felt exactly like it had gone straight to hell. Part of her wanted to burn this file and pretend she d never heard of Teresa Russ. It would be so easy to take the stand that none of what was in that cave was in any way relevant to her family.

But it was . . . Sheree had been married to their father. Mother to their youngest sister. Killed-possibly murdered-in their home. And the whole thing covered up by the dead woman s two stepdaughters.

All this time Vera had been so certain that what happened that day was just as Eve told her. An accident. Eve had been trying to protect Luna. But what if the whole thing had been staged-a lie. What if their father had killed Sheree because she had started cheating again and refused to leave? He d admitted right in front of Bent that he had said those things to Sheree!

Vera groaned. That just couldn t be true. But it wasn t impossible. She knew that Eve had been hiding something from her. The discovery at Calhoun College had at first convinced her that the connection between Suri and Gates was Eve s secret.

But then, after hearing Russ s story, Vera had spent the past hour on the road obsessing on the possibility that there had been other women in her father s life before Sheree. Had Vernon Boyett murdered Latesha when she grew too demanding? And then her friend when she d come poking around? It was an easy leap from there to the idea that he had come home that day and murdered Sheree. Eve would have protected him. No question.

Just as their mother may have protected him.

Memories of her childhood rushed through Vera s mind like old eight-millimeter film on an out-of-control reel. They had been so happy before . Until the death of their mother, she and Eve had enjoyed the picture-perfect childhood. Vera would have been thirteen when the first woman went missing and fourteen when her friend disappeared. Surely she would have recognized if something was wrong between her parents.

How could she not have seen this level of evil in her father?

And how the hell did Gates fit into it? Certainly, he was no sugar daddy from Fayetteville. Bearing in mind what she had learned from Russ, he likely had nothing to do with the other female victims.

Bent s truck rounded the curve in his long driveway, roaring past the meadow where the horses grazed. Vera wanted to feel relieved that he was finally here, but that only meant one thing-she had to tell him what she d learned from Russ.

Bent had been right about this coming down to her family. The most credible scenario in this whole mess was narrowing in on her family. And the FBI would recognize it soon, if they hadn t already. She had to trust Bent . . . there was no one else who could help.

Bent parked, climbed out of his truck, and walked toward her.

Vera s heart reacted to the sight of him . . . to the way he walked . . . to that damned hat he wore that made her want to rip it off his head and . . .

She was losing her grip . . . clearly.

I don t have any updates, he said as he closed in on her.

His voice . . . she had always been affected by his voice. The deep, steady sound of it. It made her feel safe and warm and made her want to . . .

Stop! Damn it.

I have one. Her own voice sounded hollow and fearful. What the hell? She d been back here only a few days, and already she d regressed decades. Where was the fearless analyst who d solved so many cases? Didn t matter. She waved the folder.

You want to go inside and talk about it? His eyes searched hers.

She nodded. Yes.

Okay.

He waited, let her lead the way to where she wanted to go. What she wanted was to go into his house and into his bed and lose herself for a few hours. But that would be a monumental mistake, and it wouldn t fix the problem.

Instead, she walked around the house to his home office. He followed closely enough for her to feel his presence, but he didn t crowd her or rush her.

When they reached the former potting shed, she stepped aside while he unlocked the door and pushed it inward. Inside was cool. Vera was grateful for the reprieve. Bent turned on the overhead light, chasing away the shadows lurking in the corners of the space.

With a deep breath, Vera squared her shoulders. I tracked down Teresa Russ.

He removed his hat, ran his fingers through his hair. I ve been trying to reach her, but no luck. Keep getting her voicemail. He placed his hat on a table and studied her. You want something to drink?

She shook her head. Her throat was far too constricted to swallow. Before she could stop it, her gaze settled on the case board, where the images of the stones and the remains taunted her.

Have a seat, he urged.

She moved to the nearest stool at his worktable and lowered onto it. He took a seat across from her.

Before I called Russ, I called a friend of mine in Memphis to do some digging for me. She cleared her throat. Decided she couldn t tell him about finding Suri s name on that student roster. Not yet. It was only fair that she talk to Eve first. Blindsiding her sister like that . . . Vera couldn t do it.

My friend, she went on, discovered that Russ was legit. Good reputation. She handed him the folder, and while he studied the items inside, she explained about Latesha Johnson and Trina Sutton. Then she pressed her lips together and wished she had asked for water, since her mouth felt dry enough for the tissue to crack. Her pulse raced as if she d run a marathon.

Bent placed the items back in the folder and left it on the table. His gaze settled on hers. You re worried your father did this.

It wasn t a question. He read her that easily . . . still, and the evidence was right there as plain as day. She wondered if he could see the crack widening in her heart. This might very well destroy her family. I ve considered that it looks that way, yes.

She would die before she implicated her mother.

He braced both hands on the table. It s feasible. The remains were on his property. Sheree, his second wife, is one of the victims. Based on her reputation for cheating, he had motive. Bent shook his head. But I know your father, and he s not a killer. He wouldn t have cheated on your mother before the cancer . . . he loved her too much. He just wasn t that kind of man.

Emotion crowded into Vera s eyes, and she wanted to kick herself for daring to tear up in front of this man. But-in Sheree s case -she had to get this all out- it is the most likely scenario.

Bent watched her for a moment before responding. You re right. He gave an affirming nod. But we also know that he adored Sheree, and you said yourself how devastated he was when she disappeared.

The determination and strength that had so abruptly and thoroughly deserted her suddenly returned. Her sense of loyalty and obligation to her family resurrected in full force. She wasn t doing this. No way. She would not allow this investigation to destroy everything. Bent was right. Her father wasn t that kind of man. Her mother not that sort of woman. They were good people-whatever their faults.

There had to be another explanation.

You re right, of course. The evidence felt so overwhelming as I listened to Russ s story that I got caught up for a moment. Perhaps I overreacted.

It s tough to stay objective when it s personal, he reminded her.

She stood. In any event, maybe there s something in that -she gestured to the folder- that will help ID the other remains. You should notify Russ if Sutton and Johnson are the victims. She knows the family.

As desperately as she had needed to turn this over to Bent, she suddenly needed to be away from him. To get out of here. Finding Eve and updating her were essential. They needed to talk about how this would potentially impact their family. Equally important, Vera needed to understand if the connection between Suri and Gates was something to worry about.

As she turned away, she hesitated. At this point she felt like a fool for having rushed here with accusations about her father. To be clear, she said, I love my father. No matter how all this looks, Sheree and that damned cave are the only two elements that connect him to any of this. There s no evidence and certainly no witnesses. You, the FBI, and everyone involved need to remember that.

I m with you one hundred percent, Bent confirmed.

She appreciated this more than he could know. This situation has been difficult for us all. Remember that as well, particularly when factoring in some of Eve s actions.

That s why she faked the accident, Bent pointed out. To distract the investigation from her father.

Vera nodded. She also left that warning. Might as well get it all out there. On the door. He didn t know about the others, and she intended to keep it that way.

I can see her doing that. He hesitated a second, then asked, You don t think she hired the intruder, do you?

No. She did not. We talked about that. She would never go that far and risk hurting anyone. She thought of Suri and the man, Norton Gates. Vera certainly hoped she was right about that part.

All right then, Bent said. Thank you for getting Russ to talk and for bringing me the folder. He smiled, a weary one. You do good work.

Thanks. I m counting on you to see that this is done right.

He gave her a nod. No question. I ll give this information to Conover, and we ll go from there.

Vera hesitated again. What about my mother s remains? Just thinking about what Higdon had done made her sick all over again.

On the way to the lab in Nashville. He shook his head. I really am sorry about that, Vee. I wish I could have stopped it.

Some things just can t be stopped.

Like this momentum toward a crash and burn the Boyett sisters seemed headed for.

Unfortunately, you re right about that. He exhaled a big breath. The FBI has requested a meeting at five thirty in my office. Can you be there? I can put them off maybe another day.

She should just get it over with. It wasn t like she didn t know how to handle the feds. No, don t put them off. I ll be there.

See you then.

Yeah.

She could just imagine the fun they were going to have.

As she drove away from Bent s place, she called Eve and got her voicemail. Vera ended the call. Damn it, Eve.

She set a course for Barrett s. As she drove, she replayed all that had happened since her return. So much about their family history was suddenly upside down or in question. What happened to that happy family they once were? How could this thing have turned all her good memories into questions or potential cover-ups?

Looking back, she wondered when it had all started to fall apart.

Her mother s smiling face slipped into the midst of the other jumbled images. She d been such a joyful and upbeat person. Always found the bright side.

There was no one like her.

Florence Higdon s words echoed in Vera s brain. She d said something very close to that when she and Beatrice Fraley delivered the food. Another memory punched through the thought. Vera s mother and two other women laughing and drinking lemonade in the backyard. But that had been before her mother died.

Vera mulled over the memory. Talking to Eve would have to wait . . . there was something Vera had to do first.

Her foot bearing down harder on the accelerator, Vera drove straight to the farm. Why hadn t Beatrice or Florence called to convey their sympathy that her mother had been exhumed? She and Beatrice had just chatted on her front porch, and she hadn t said a word. Florence had come by that once with the casserole, and then radio silence. Such good friends should have been horrified by the news.

Or maybe, Vera decided, they were afraid of being presumed guilty by association.

She thought of this morning s conversation with her father, when he was so worried about something her mother had done . . . something no one could know . . . that could take her away from the girls. He even mentioned understanding that she thought she was doing the right thing.

Vera parked in front of the house. Obviously her mother had done something wrong, maybe illegal. Her father had been afraid for her. Vera got out of her SUV and hurried to the front door. Her fingers fumbled as she unlocked it. The house was quiet, so no one else was home yet.

Vaguely she considered that there had been an intruder, and they still didn t have a security system. The thought prompted an ache in her hip. She should not just rush into the house without thought.

Forget that. This could not wait. She kicked the door shut and went straight to the library room. She grabbed as many photo albums as her arms would hold and carried them to the table in the center of the room. One by one she flipped through the pages. She alternately smiled and cried. Right there was proof of all those happy memories. They really had been happy. Smiles like the ones in the photographs couldn t be faked. The love so obvious between her parents could not have been an act.

Vera s lips drifted down into a frown. What happened to change everything?

Her father had said it was his place-he should have done the protecting. What could he have meant? Vera replayed the conversation yet again. He was worried that Evelyn had done something wrong. Vera refused to believe her mother had harmed anyone, much less murdered two women. She had to have been protecting Vera s father. And someone else knew . . . maybe that someone was threatening her. Or was involved somehow.

Who better to know a secret than one s best friends?

There were literally dozens of photos of her mother with her two best friends. Florence Higdon and Beatrice Fraley. Best friends who had, obviously, spent a great deal of time with her. All the way up to the year before she died, there was evidence of the three s closeness.

Vera frowned. Why had those two abandoned her mother during her most profound time of need? She had suffered with that damned cancer for just over a year, yet there was not one photo of her friends gathered around her. Now that she considered it, Vera could not call to mind a single instance of the two dropping by or bringing food.

What had happened to destroy their friendship?

A secret . . . one that could destroy one or all of them.

Maybe her mother hadn t been protecting her father.

Bent and even Walt Fraley insisted that whoever put those bodies in the cave was someone her father knew well. Teresa Russ said Latesha Johnson s sugar daddy was someone important . . . someone wealthy.

Vernon Boyett wasn t particularly wealthy or a prominent member of the community.

Dr. Charles Higdon, the medical examiner, certainly fit the bill far better, and he seemed all too determined to find a way to cast suspicion on her father.

Then there was Walt Fraley, friend to her father and sheriff during the time the victims went missing. He swore to Vera there were no unsolved missing persons cases during his time as sheriff. Yet there were Latesha and Trina. Teresa Russ had come to Fayetteville often enough to have developed a contact in the courthouse.

Why had Fraley lied about that? Had he simply forgotten? Or was he protecting someone? Himself? Higdon?

Why had all those best friends suddenly become frenemies?

Vera needed to catch Beatrice alone again and play interrogator. She was the weak link among the four. The most likely to break.

The upcoming meeting with the FBI had pushed Vera into a corner. She no longer had time to let this play out and see what happened.

She had to find answers.