Page 87 of Deeper Than the Dead

Boyett Farm

Good Hollow Road, Fayetteville, 6:30 p.m.

As Bent parked in the drive next to her SUV, Vera realized she hadn’t spoken since they left Fraley’s home. Each time she’d considered asking a question or making a comment based on that unexpected disclosure from Walt, she just couldn’t bring herself to open that door.

They were both convinced it was you girls.

Beatrice and Florence had suspected she and Eve were responsible for Sheree’s disappearance. They’d believed this so strongly they had gone to Walt about it.

How in the world had they come to that conclusion? And why the hell had she asked? It was the sort of information you couldn’t unhear ... and it was too damned close to the truth.

“While you were interrogating Fraley, I received a call from Conover.”

Bent’s voice startled her. Vera shook off the disturbing thoughts. Conover. His lead forensic guy. She steeled herself for even worse news. He hadn’t told her what the call was about. By the time he’d come back inside, she had heard Walt’s damning statement and wanted to leave before the man could repeat it for Bent. Then she’d been lost in thought on the drive here.

Why hadn’t Beatrice said anything to her today? This was not the sort of thing she should have kept to herself. It just didn’t make sense.

Vera steadied herself and cleared her throat. “Judging by how long you were outside, there must be an important development.” She didn’t even want to hazard a guess. The shit just kept getting deeper.

“The school ring the male vic was wearing belonged to a Norton Gates of Huntsville. Fifty-four at the time of his disappearance. Divorced. A teacher at Huntsville High School, as well as a professor at Calhoun College. Gates was reported missing in May three years ago by his girlfriend.”

Vera had never heard the name. Huntsville was the largest city in Alabama and only thirty miles south of Fayetteville. Known as the Rocket City because of its ties to NASA, it was also a university town and had garnered the nickname the MIT of the South. A good many of Lincoln County’s residents worked in Huntsville. Plenty of others attended university there.

Vera struggled to focus on the appropriate response. “Is there anyone, a family, the girl who reported him missing, you can talk to about who he might have known in this area?” Sounded plausible to her. They could be looking for one of his students, a coworker ... a friend who killed him and tucked him into that cave. Someone with ties in Fayetteville obviously. Eric would likely be calling with the same information. Vera was going to need another favor from him. Maybe two.

But that wasn’t her biggest worry at the moment.

“I’m working on that,” Bent told her.

The tone of his voice drew her eyes to him. She stared at his profile. Followed his gaze forward. There was nothing to look at other than the trees and scattered blooms in the landscape. Whatever was on his mind, he didn’t want to look at her when he spit it out.

Good God, what else? Maybe he’d already known what Walt told her.

When the silence lingered, she demanded, “What?”

He turned, his eyes searching hers. “You know the likelihood that this doesn’t involve your family or someone close to your family is practically nil at this point.”

How well she knew, and still cold enveloped her at hearing the words from him.

“When you find evidence to prove your theory, let me know.” She reached for the door handle.

He put his hand on her arm but didn’t speak again until she met his gaze. “We can’t stop this thing. I’m not sure we can even slow it down. You need to be prepared for the worst.”

“What the hell does that mean?” If he had something to say, he should just say it.

“I think you know what I mean.”

“You now have another potential suspect,” she snapped. “Maybe this Gates was a serial killer, and the women in that cave were his victims. Maybe someone figured it out and had their revenge and tucked him into that cave?” It wasn’t impossible. Damn it.

“Based on what we know about Gates so far, I’d say that’s a long shot. Particularly in Sheree’s case. The personal items found with her remains don’t exactly fit.”

He was right, damn it. But rather than respond, Vera opened the door and climbed out. She walked, ignoring the pain in her hip, straight to her front door without looking back. His eyes on her had her skin feeling as if it would catch fire. Thankfully the door was unlocked, preventing her from having to dig for a key. She escaped inside and closed and locked the door.

Who the hell was Norton Gates?

A clatter from the direction of the kitchen snapped her to attention.

Was someone here? Luna’s car wasn’t outside. Eve’s was still in the shop. She’d mentioned staying with Suri.

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