Page 71 of Deeper Than the Dead

“I would agree,” the old bastard said. “Except everything changed when Sheree came into your lives,” he pointed out almost giddily. “Considering how quickly she and your father married and Luna came along, it would be foolish not to recognize they were involved before your mother’s death.”

“Well”—Vera gave a slow, thoughtful nod—“if you did notice something at the time of my mother’s death and failed to investigate, then you were negligent in the carrying out of the duties of your office.” When he attempted to argue, she held up her hand. “In which case, every death you’ve investigated since that time will and should come under scrutiny.” She aimed a knowing smile at him. “I’m not sure you understand the ramifications of opening that can of worms, Dr. Higdon, but I will be more than happy to show you what they are.”

“Vee”—Bent stood—“Higdon has already gone to the FBI with this.”

Higdon’s eyes fairly glittered with excitement as he watched her stunned and somewhat deflated reaction to the news.

There were many things Vera wanted to say, but words eluded her in that moment. Finally, she summoned her wherewithal and warned, “Exhume my mother, and I will make sure every news outlet in this part of the country knows about your admitted negligence.”

“Vee,” Bent said, his voice low and urgent, “whatever else Higdon does, the FBI will not let this go now that it’s on the table.”

She ignored the point he made ... didn’t want to hear it.

“I’m sure the funeral home has photos from when my mother was prepared for burial. You have my permission to use those to review the case,” she said to Higdon. “That should be sufficient.”

Higdon smiled, as if that had been his intent all along. “Very well. As you say, I’m sure that will suffice.”

Bastard.

“Now”—Vera drew in a deep breath—“if you’ll excuse me. I have to speak with my sisters and warn them about this latest travesty.”

She turned her back and walked out.

“Vee.” Bent was right on her heels.

“Not now,” she warned with a lethal glance in his direction.

He backed off.

It took every ounce of strength she possessed to get out of the building and into her SUV before the damned tears started. It was one thing to go after her father, but it was entirely another to use her mother’s death in such a way.

This was wrong. And she intended to prove it, with or without Bent’s support.

24

Lincoln County Sheriff’s Department

Thornton Taylor Parkway, Fayetteville, 8:55 a.m.

Bent didn’t try to stop her. He just stood there and watched her walk away.

Vera was too angry. She wouldn’t have listened to him anyway.

Higdon pushed out of his chair. “Well, I’ll get right on requesting those photos.” He looked to Bent. “You did the right thing, son. The only thing you could do. Those sisters will just have to get right with what their daddy likely did.”

Bent forced his jaw to relax, unclamped his gritted teeth. “First of all, Vera’s right—this is wrong. Second, I am not your son.”

Higdon only glared at him, then strutted out of the office, shoulders back and chest puffed out like a gobbler during mating season.

Fury twisted in Bent’s gut. It wouldn’t be so bad if the old bastard’s point was finding the truth, but it wasn’t. It was just like Vee said. He wanted to make himself a significant part of this investigation now that it had moved to the next level. He wanted his face on the news.

If the truth had been so damned important, he would have demanded it from Vernon Boyett twenty-some years ago when, in his capacity as medical examiner, he claimed to have noticed the bruises on Vernon’s dead wife.

Bent set his hands on his hips. Since he couldn’t exactly punch an old man, he felt like he needed to do something. Try to talk to Vera. Some damned thing. And he got how this accusation made her feel. He’d been damned angry himself when Higdon brought this to him. Worse, when he admitted that he’d spoken to the FBI about it, Bent had barely restrained himself from going off on him.

Not exactly the kind of thing to do if he wanted to maintain the people’s trust.

Damn it, Bent had known Evelyn Boyett, and he’d thought the world of her. He hadn’t been that close to Vernon, but he hadn’t heard anything bad about him. Well, beyond the idea that he was a fool for having married Sheree Corbin. But most men had their weaknesses. For some those showed up early, making them rowdy and irresponsible in their youth. Like him, he was sad to say. He had no proper raising, which left him to fend for himself. He learned early on that his looks and the right words could get him all sorts of things—none of which he’d needed.

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