Page 46 of Deeper Than the Dead

“I know,” Eve agreed, sounding bored of the subject.

“This thing that’s happening now,” Vera said, looking Eve straight in the eyes to ensure she was paying attention, “is different. Someone killed three people and hid their bodies in our cave. Killing three people at three different times is not an accident. The problem for us is that the killer ignored or reveled in finding Sheree’s remains and probably decided we were responsible or maybe watched us do it. Or thought our father did. We can’t be certain of anything. Except—the person who put those other remains in the cave is a murderer. If he’s still out there, then we have reason to be concerned for our safety.”

Vera took a deep breath. “His work has been discovered, and he likely blames us—hence, the text messages, and maybe what happened on that curve as well. If we hadn’t put Sheree where we did, the others might never have been found.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Eve shifted her attention to her phone rather than maintain eye contact. “I guess that was my fault.”

A too-familiar sick feeling attacked Vera again. What was Eve hiding from her? There was something. Vera could not shake the feeling or ignore her sister’s obvious detachment. “What do you mean?”

“I’m the one who suggested the cave.” She glanced up. “That makes it my fault.”

Vera tried to recall the frantic conversation all those years ago. She was certain the decision had been a mutual one. “We did this together,” she reminded her sister.

Eve nodded but kept her attention on her phone or her hands.

“You’re certain there’s nothing else you need to tell me,” Vera nudged. Despite her need to trust Eve completely, she found herself holding her breath.

“I don’t believe this.” Eve stared heavenward and heaved a big breath. “What happened with Sheree”—she glared at Vera—“was an accident. You know that. You just said it. I damned sure haven’t killed three other people. How could you think that?”

Sadly that was the part that bothered Vera the most. Bent mentioned it just a little while ago. Rarely did a person see what was right in front of them when it involved a close family member or a close friend. She’d experienced a devastating reminder just last week.

“I know you didn’t kill those two women. You were only eight or nine when they were murdered. I just need to know that everything is on the table—you’re not holding back even to protect someone else.”

“We’ve talked about this,” Eve argued. “The fact is, it seems like there’s a lot we both need to know. Like who the heck sent those text messages. My first thought was Luna.”

Eve’s suggestion annoyed Vera. But more importantly Vera recognized it for what it was—an attempt to shift the focus. Her sister was definitely hiding something. But Eve had never responded well to being pushed. The issue would have to wait a little longer.

“I think it’s safe to say,” Vera countered, “that Luna is not involved with this. She has no idea we are.”

“I don’t know why you think she’s so innocent. What if Daddy figured out what we’d done and told her at some point after his dementia got so bad? It’s not impossible.”

Vera supposed that scenario was conceivable. But she couldn’t see her father knowing and never saying anything to her or to Eve. Still, it wasn’t out of the question.

Vera shook her head. “If Luna had learned the truth, we would have known it long ago. She would not have pretended otherwise.”

“Then who can it be?” Eve demanded.

There was the rub. If Eve hadn’t told anyone, and Vera certainly had not, that left only their father. But if he’d discovered their secret, why would he not have demanded answers from one or both of them? Had he somehow discovered Sheree’s remains after his dementia but before they were aware of the problem? Could he have decided she and Eve were responsible and had intended to confront them and then forgot? Or could he have, in the throes of his illness, believed he did it? Then again, maybe he killed the other two women and later, when he discovered Sheree, decided he couldn’t confront his daughters for fear of them finding his secret?

Who the hell knew? What a freaking mess!

“Bent has Daddy at the top of his suspect list,” Vera admitted, in case Eve wasn’t aware. Garth Rimmey had been there, too, but the older remains had dropped him lower on the list.

“Makes sense. He was Sheree’s husband. And maybe it was him. We can’t be sure.”

Vera’s face pinched. “You think Daddy could have killed those other two women? Then all these years later a man? Why?” She made a “what the hell” face. “I mean, at least with Sheree we can point to a potential motive, except it’s irrelevant since we know what happened to her. The others ...” This was crazy. There was just no way their father was a killer. “It can’t be him. It just can’t.”

“You’re positive you didn’t tell Bent what we did?” Eve said quietly.

Vera drew back at the question. “Of course I didn’t tell Bent. He was gone before that happened. Remember? I had no way of contacting him. Until yesterday, he and I had not spoken in all this time.”

“Then how do we figure out who it is?” Eve held up the phone, indicating the text message she had received.

“I have a friend in Memphis who can run a check on the number the messages came from. Chances are it’s a burner phone, and we won’t be able to locate the owner. But we can try. Bent will do all he can to determine who ran you off the road, but frankly, that won’t be easy, either, since we have basically no details about the other vehicle.”

“So what do we do in the meantime?”

“We stay alert. Make sure we’re watchful and don’t end up in a ditch somewhere. We keep each other informed of every little thing.”

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