37

Fraley Farm

Jenkins Road, Fayetteville, 8:00 p.m.

Vera checked the time again. Where the hell were the Fraleys?

We ve been here an hour and a half already. Is your plan to just sit here all night? Eve shifted in the seat and stuck her head into the darkness outside the window, as if that would provide some sort of relief from the heat.

Not happening. No matter that it was past sunset. The humidity hung in the hot, thick air like molasses dripping from an open container. Her sister s whining did not help the situation.

We re not leaving until one or both of the Fraleys come home, Vera reminded her, avoiding a specific time frame. You agreed to see this through.

Eve hissed a beleaguered breath. I get it. You re punishing me because I knew about the women in that secret part of the cave and you didn t.

Vera s jaw dropped. That is the most asinine, childish statement I have ever heard. She shook her head. How had she forgotten what it was like spending hours cooped up alone with her sister?

It had been more than twenty years since they d spent this much time together alone , with no background distractions like a television or a looming task that couldn t wait. Apparently, Vera decided, her sister had only one close friend-the same one she d had since childhood. She worked where she d always felt most comfortable, with the dead. Never deviated from the known and the trusted. Routine was her middle name. She was a textbook case of failure to move on to the next stage of emotional development.

Now Vera was just being mean. She pushed away the frustration. I am not punishing you, Eve. You were a child, and learning what was in that cave was an accident. One I m sure Mama would have preferred to protect you from. What we re doing right now is to protect Mama. You want to do that, don t you?

Don t be ridiculous. Of course I do. Eve dropped back into her seat. And you re right. She didn t want me to see any of it, and I will do whatever is necessary to protect her memory.

Vera leaned against her own headrest. It s exhausting.

Eve turned her head toward Vera now. Keeping me and Mama out of trouble?

A dry chuckle erupted from Vera s lips. No. She turned her head as well, so her and her sister s faces were only a dozen or so inches apart. I would do anything anytime to protect you and Mama. Daddy and Luna too. I meant keeping secrets is exhausting.

No kidding. Eve breathed a laugh that held even less humor than Vera s had. It s so much easier to just tell the truth.

Except, Vera offered, sometimes it s too painful to tell, or it creates a domino effect that ultimately will help no one.

Especially Luna, Eve said, facing forward once more.

Especially Luna. Vera sighed. She didn t want to think about their secrets anymore.

Eve tugged out her cell phone and distracted herself.

Vera considered doing the same but preferred not to risk seeing her name attached to any lead stories.

We have three potential sugar daddies , she said, thinking out loud in hopes of doing something constructive. Dr. Higdon, Sheriff Fraley, and Daddy.

My money s on Higdon, Eve said without looking up from her phone. I never liked him. He was always so mean, even when he pretended to be nice.

I thought you liked him, Vera countered, since he works with the dead too.

Eve s face contorted into an expression of disgust that looked slightly blue in the light from her cell phone. Not the same as what I do at all. Besides, he has always been like this sneaky old man who did things you couldn t see but that hurt just the same. All smiles and wearing those little bow ties.

A laugh popped out of Vera.

What? Eve shot a curious look at her.

Every time I see him, Vera admitted, I think of that old Porky Pig cartoon.

They both burst into laughter, the full-belly kind, until they had to stop to breathe.

Oh my God, Eve said as she wiped away tears from laughing so hard, me too.

Vera swiped at her eyes and cleared her throat. Then I guess that makes his wife Petunia.

They dissolved into laughter once more. Vera laughed until it hurt. She understood that it was the exhaustion and the stress driving the moment, but she needed the relief and felt thankful for it, no matter the form.

Oh shit. Eve stared at her phone.

Vera straightened up. What?

Eve turned the screen toward her. The image was of her and Eve sitting on the bench at their mother s grave. Vera grabbed the phone and tapped on the screen. There was another image, this one of their mother s coffin being exhumed. Fury lit in her belly. The accompanying story was about the exhumation . . . from the Memphis ABC affiliate and that damned Patricia Patton.

The ruthless reporter had gotten her story. Vera wasn t surprised, just pissed off.

Headlights bobbed in the darkness, jerking Vera s attention forward. She passed the phone back to Eve and collected herself. Maybe this is the Fraleys.

Eve tossed the device onto the console. I hope so. I m starving.

As if the reminder had flipped some switch, Vera s stomach rumbled. We ll stop at the Jack s pickup window before going home.

You can have Jack s, Eve grumbled. I ll take KFC.

Vera didn t argue. Who knew if either of them would still have an appetite when this was done. She refused to think about the images that went with that damned story of Patton s.

The truck Vera had seen parked in the drive the last time she visited Beatrice came to a stop now. As if the driver considered turning around and driving away, the vehicle sat for a moment, motor running, lights blaring into Vera s SUV, before shutting down and going dark.

Beatrice is getting out, Eve said, peering toward the truck, which was parked on her side of the driveway, maybe ten feet away.

Let s do this then. Vera opened her door and climbed out. Eve followed.

By the time Beatrice reached the front end of her truck, Vera and Eve were there. A second person-presumably Walt-was in the passenger seat. Vera could just make out the outline of a figure beyond the windshield.

Hi, Beatrice, Vera said. We ve been waiting to see you.

This is not a very good time, the former schoolteacher said, her voice too low, too quiet, as if she didn t want whoever was still in the truck to hear. Walt had an appointment at the doctor s office in Nashville, and we visited our niece while we were there. We re both fairly exhausted, as you can imagine.

I m sorry, Vera said, feeling no sympathy whatsoever. But this won t wait for another time.

Beatrice exhaled an audible breath. I need to get Walt in the house.

Before Vera could offer, Eve said, Let me help you. She followed the older woman to the passenger side of the vehicle.

Eve retrieved the folded wheelchair from the bed of the truck and readied it for its occupant. Beatrice helped her husband out of the vehicle.

Evening, Vee, Walt said as he rolled past.

Evening to you. She doubted he would be happy when he learned the reason for her showing up like this. Since Beatrice said nothing, it was clear she wasn t happy at all.

Her behavior was suspicious to say the least. Maybe only because Vera wanted her to know something about the murders. Wishful thinking could be powerful at times.

Eve rolled the wheelchair, Walt onboard, to the ramp that had been added at the end of the porch. Another, brighter light came on as they neared. Beatrice unlocked the door and stood back while Eve continued pushing the wheelchair until they were inside.

While Beatrice settled her husband in the living room, Vera and Eve waited in the front hall. Some folks still called the main rooms in these old houses parlors , but Vera s mother had used the term living room . Her mother hadn t really been like the other mothers. Maybe because she had grown up in the city. Even though Nashville was still in Tennessee, it was a different world from Fayetteville.

When Beatrice returned to the hall and looked from one to the other, it was clear as glass she didn t plan to make this easy.

She said nothing, just looked at them.

Do we need to speak in private? Vera asked.

The older woman turned and walked toward the kitchen.

Vera and Eve shared a look, then followed.

Beatrice sat down at the kitchen table. Vera and Eve joined her.

When they d made this plan-or more accurately, when Vera had decided this visit was a necessity, she had concluded it would be best to proceed with caution. She and Eve did not need to reveal any aspect of what they knew about the disposal of the women s bodies or the fact that their mother had helped. The goal was to learn all possible without giving anything away or leading the story in any way.

We ve learned, Vera began, the identity of the other remains in the cave. She left it at that for a moment to focus on the older woman s response, verbal and physical.

At the news Beatrice flinched ever so slightly, then she blinked. Florence hasn t mentioned it.

She likely doesn t know, Vera explained. The lab in Nashville is handling the case. With the FBI involved, locals don t necessarily get all the details. This was basically conjecture on her part, since Bent hadn t said one way or the other, but it was the most logical assumption.

More blinking from their reluctant host. Is it someone we know?

Latesha Johnson and Trina Sutton, both from the Huntsville area, Vera explained. Latesha was having an affair with a so-called sugar daddy here in Fayetteville.

Another flinch. Oh my. I don t recognize either of those names. Beatrice s tone sounded stiff . . . unnatural.

Sheriff Fraley never mentioned those names? Eve asked, her timing perfect. There was an investigation when the second one, Trina Sutton, went missing.

Beatrice s face worked until she managed to speak. I was so busy with my teaching and after-school programs, I rarely had any idea what Walt was investigating.

Why don t you just ask me, the man himself said as he rolled into the kitchen. He looked from Vera to Eve and back. My body might be betraying me, but my mind -he tapped his temple- works just fine.

Do you need some water or something? His wife shot to her feet. I m sure you re utterly exhausted.

He scoffed. Why, I m never too exhausted for these two.

Vera turned in her chair to face the man as he rolled closer to the table. Do you remember an investigation into two missing women, Latesha Johnson and Trina Sutton, from twenty-five years ago? They were from Huntsville but came to Fayetteville and were never seen again. I remember you said there were no unsolved missing persons cases under your watch.

Walt considered her question for a time before responding. I do. The one-Sutton, as I recall-had gone missing after supposedly coming to Fayetteville to look for a friend. His face furrowed in thought as he searched his memories. There was never any investigation conducted by the Fayetteville Police Department or my office on the Johnson case. I only recognize the name because it was a part of the Sutton case-which FPD participated in. It was never my case, so what I told you is true.

But he had known about the case, and he hadn t told her. Slippery slope, Walt, she mused.

Was FPD able to determine if Sutton was ever in Fayetteville around the time in question? Vera asked.

He shook his head. They found nothing to suggest she was ever here or involved with anyone here. Now -he gave Vera a look- does that mean she wasn t? As you well know, it only means they didn t find a witness who had seen her or owned up to seeing her.

Vera wasn t surprised. This was the way those types of cases usually went.

We re just trying to figure out, Eve chimed in, how the two ended up buried in our cave. Do you remember any other details about the investigation?

That she looked at Beatrice when she said this made Vera cringe.

Now that is a hell of a good question, Walt confirmed, drawing Eve s attention to him. I said that exact same thing about how they wound up buried in your cave when Bent called me while I was in Nashville today. I think we could clear this all up if we just knew how that happened.

Good to know that Bent wasn t dragging his feet. As for Walt, Vera couldn t quite tell if he was being facetious or helpful. She asked, Do you have thoughts on the answer to that question?

He chuckled. You know I do. As I said, they never found a single thing on either woman. As for why those two were in that cave, I guess you d have to ask your daddy about that.

Vera felt the punch of his words like a blow. She threw a jab back at him. Do you believe our father was having an affair?

I am not suggesting any such thing, nor do I believe any such thing, he insisted. Did he help out a friend by allowing him to use the cave? Maybe so. Vernon has always been a good-hearted neighbor.

Beatrice had remained silent and utterly still since her husband started to talk, but her face had grown paler with each statement he made.

You were his friend, Vera offered. Perhaps you were having an affair with one or both of the women, and it was you he helped.

Vera Mae Boyett! Beatrice shot to her feet, her chair scraping across the floor. Why in the world would you insult my husband this way?

Walt laughed, but his wife was not even smiling. Vera met her fierce glare. A friend of my family put those bodies in that cave. I m just trying to figure out who it was.

Beatrice shook her head. I will not listen to a moment more of this. She rounded the table to go.

But, what about Dr. Higdon? Vera demanded, causing her to stall. He was friends with my father, and like you, his wife was friends with my mother. Vera frowned. Wait. Maybe I m wrong, since neither she nor you came to visit Mama during her most difficult time. You seemed to fall off the planet when she needed you most.

Beatrice hesitated for two seconds, then she stormed out of the room.

Walt sighed. This situation has us all upset. He rested his attention on Vera. She s just trying to protect me. Bea adored your mama.

I m sure you re right, Vera agreed.

Except the only thing she was certain about was the idea that Beatrice Fraley knew something that was eating at her . . . eating her alive.

All Vera had to do was keep pouring on the pressure until the woman couldn t hold it in any longer.