Page 43 of Deeper Than the Dead

“I should let you get back to work,” she suggested. “Thank you for lunch.”

“I’m glad you agreed to come. It means a lot to me that we can talk like this.”

Why was she having such difficulty reading him? Did he or did he not suspect her and/or Eve of being involved with this somehow? Or their father? There were moments when she was certain he had suspicions related to one or all three of them, and then he would do something like this lunch, and she would be convinced he did not.

But then again, this could just be his way of regaining her trust.

On the porch, he hesitated and reached for his cell. “Benton,” he said in greeting to the caller.

Vera wandered down the steps and surveyed the landscaping around the house that really was so un-Bent-like. She took a long, lingering look at the meadow, where the horses grazed. It was a peaceful place.

The call ended, and she waited for him to join her, then they walked to her SUV together. Vera settled into the driver’s seat.

Bent paused a moment before closing her door. “Just remember,” he said, searching her eyes, “anything you can remember from when Sheree disappeared that you may not have mentioned before could make all the difference in figuring out this mess.”

“I assure you,” she promised, “I’ve told you everything I can remember.”

Still, he hesitated, held her gaze. “I’m counting on that, Vee, because this situation just got a little worse.”

The call. “What now?”

“We have a fourth set of remains.”

15

The Cave

Boyett Farm

Good Hollow Road, Fayetteville, 3:15 p.m.

Bent scrubbed a hand over his jaw as he considered the new aspect of this expanding hornet’s nest. Each layer seemed to reveal another.

“What can you tell me so far?” he asked, not entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer.

Will Conover nodded. “One more set—four total. Three female, one male. As we’ve already discussed, the female vics were arranged in place, arms folded, rocks on top of the bodies. Sheree was the only one with an assortment of personal possessions—a handbag, wallet, and suitcase. The jewelry worn by the other two females is the only personal items left with those remains.” He shrugged. “The male vic is newer—I’m guessing he died three or four years ago, maybe a little less. Still got meat on the bones. Judging by the condition of the back of his skull, he died of head trauma, like the others. No wallet or anything like money or nail clippers, et cetera in his pockets. No cross necklace. But there is a school ring. University of Alabama in Huntsville.”

Hope sparked in Bent’s chest. “Tell me there’s a name inscribed.”

“Not his name, but there is what I’m thinking is a nickname. Either that or the guy was überreligious. The inscription reads God.”

Bent nodded slowly. “God? That’s it?”

Conover nodded. “Yep. I’m thinking I can track down the owner of the ring through the manufacturer. They generally keep records. We have the school, the inscription, and a year—which should be the year of graduation.”

“Give it a shot.” Bent surveyed the craggy walls, which right now felt as if they were closing in. “Thanks, Conover.”

“No problem,” he said. “I’m curious as hell about the inscription.”

Conover made his way out of the cavern, but Bent stuck around. The folks from TBI wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow. Just as well. He needed some time to think. He surveyed the mounds of rocks that had been removed from the two sets of female remains. The misplaced piles made the space a little crowded. Maybe eight feet by ten feet, it was not such a large area. The female victims had been placed on a slightly elevated ledge that time or water or whatever had carved out of the rock wall along one side. They had been easy to see upon entering the hidden cavern. The other victim—the male—had been placed in a corner at the back of the space, with fewer rocks hiding him. He’d been tucked into a wide crevice at the base of the cave wall, where it met the floor, making his remains almost unnoticeable.

Each victim was against the rock walls of the area, none in the center of the space. The loose stones that had been placed over the bodies seemed a fairly large number. Bent suspected some had been brought from outside the cave. He had no idea how many—if any—had been inside.

The process of removing all the remains would wait until after the TBI folks had a look. Bent had assigned two deputies to keep the cave secure tonight. Two more tomorrow. He didn’t want anything walking out of here.

It wasn’t like Lincoln County was crime-free, and it hadn’t been that long ago that six people were murdered in a drug retaliation hit. But this was different. These were four sets of remains from two different time periods. Conover estimated that the three females had died within a few years of each other. It was the last find that changed everything. Not only because the victim was male but also because the murder had occurred no more than three to four years ago. Since he had been shoved into a crevice, there was no posing. No cross and chain. The difference, he suspected, meant something about why he was murdered and maybe by whom. Possibly the male vic had learned something about the killer ... or someone close to the killer, and that knowledge had gotten him murdered. Or maybe he was the one who’d killed the three females and someone close to one or all three had levied revenge.

Bent shook his head. Could be a serial killer—the TBI would no doubt see it that way. Either that or there were different perpetrators involved who just happened to use the same dump site.

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