Page 117 of Deeper Than the Dead

His smile was back. “So that’s it, huh? You think one of the wives did this because the husband was cheating with one or both of those women left in that cave. And maybe Evelyn helped a friend in need.”

A shiver raced across her skin. “Maybe. Whoever it was has sent this same mystery intruder into the house not once but twice. The audacity of the move tells me this is someone who knows us well. The persistence suggests whatever she or he thinks is here must be incriminating.” Vera considered the idea a moment. “She’s looking for something my mama or daddy may have left. Maybe something that points to the scorned wife turned killer.”

“Or the husband trying to hide his secrets,” Bent proposed.

“Or that,” she agreed.

“Then we need to figure out what that something is.”

“We can start right now.” Vera stood.

Bent did the same. But then he reached for his cell, checked the screen. “Bent,” he said in greeting.

Vera took their cups to the sink while he spoke with the caller. Luna was still upstairs. She likely hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, plus she had big shopping plans later. Any search of the upstairs would have to wait until Luna was gone. No need to upset her further.

Bent ended his call. “I have to go. There was a break-in over at the Claiborne place. Turns out their two teenage boys have a major drug operation going on in the barn. But we should go through the house together later today.”

Just because it was a Saturday didn’t mean the sheriff had a day off. Vera was well aware. “It’s a date. But in the meantime, I’d like to interview some of my parents’ other friends. I need to find answers, Bent.”

“That will be our next step after the search. We will not stop until we find those answers,” he promised.

Vera followed him to the door. “I appreciate you playing bodyguard last night.”

“Any time.” He settled his hat into place. “FYI, I’ve got someone assigned to watch the house until that security system is installed.”

“Thanks. I, for one, will feel better.” Luna would be at Jerome’s—assuming they made up, and they would. Eve went to Suri’s as often as she stayed home. So Vera would likely be alone.

Eve’s relationship with Suri and the business with the Gates guy was just one more secret she could never tell this man—no matter that the cop in her wanted to do so more every passing hour. In truth, it was only a matter of time before Bent or the FBI found the same connection to Suri that Vera had found. Until then, she had enough to deal with without going down that road just yet.

“Keep me posted on what you’re up to,” he said before leaving.

“I will.” Vera watched him walk to his truck. She actually intended to start interviewing the other potential suspects this morning. But Bent didn’t need to know that until she had something to share. He didn’t want her doing it alone. Not to mention, anything she learned would be considered hearsay. But she had to do it. She had to know. Had to find answers before this thing went any further south.

When he’d driven away, she grabbed her bag and keys. She glanced toward the upstairs landing. Still no sign of Luna. Maybe she needed some time alone. Vera ensured the door was locked and headed out.

She’d already pressed Beatrice for answers, and she had no doubt told Florence. The more time they had to work out their stories or cover any other tracks, the less likely Vera was to find the truth. She could not wait for Bent.

And she knew right where she wanted to start.

Higdon Residence

Mulberry Avenue, Fayetteville, 8:00 a.m.

Judge Preston Higdon didn’t live out in the county as Vera and Bent did. He lived in the biggest historic house on Mulberry. He’d obviously taken great care to bring the massive home back to its former grandeur.

The open carriage-style doors of the detached garage showed off a high-end automobile with vanity plates. Vera knew from her research that the man had two daughters, both at Ivy League universities. His wife was a doctor. And, as Mrs. Higdon had boasted, his name was on the list of nominees for a Tennessee State Supreme Court post.

Dear Preston had done well for himself. Vera should give him the benefit of the doubt. He could be a very nice man. Just because he was a real shit back in school, that didn’t mean he’d grown into a bigger one.

The door opened after a second ring of the ancient doorbell with its strange bong. Preston himself stood at the door. No butler or housekeeper doing it for him. No little wife dutifully manning the needs of the household. Possibly a good sign. No matter that it was Saturday and quite early, he wore neatly pressed navy trousers and a crisp light-blue shirt with the collar open. He looked ready for a day on the courthouse steps, speaking to the citizens whom he helped protect, or for a stroll around the square for first Saturday activities. He was clean shaven, his hair styled just so, and maybe even had a touch of makeup on his chiseled face.

His expression shifted to surprise. “Vera? Vera Boyett.”

“Good to see you, Preston.”

He looked her up and down, and a grin spread across his face. “Well, my word, how are you?”

“I’m good. Really good. I’m hearing all sorts of amazing things about you. Up for the state supreme court. That’s just incredible.”

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