Page 96 of Deeper Than the Dead

Telly looked from the card to Vera. “I will.”

Vera thanked her again and exited the office before anyone could stop her and ask for credentials. Thank you, Eric. And Telly.

Once she was in her SUV, she started the engine and cranked up the air-conditioning. And she locked her doors. She surveyed the parking lot. Deep breath. She opened the folder and removed the printed lists.

According to the email from Eric, Gates had spent most of his career teaching at Huntsville High School. He’d also taught a microbiology class at the college. Vera felt confident what she was looking for would more likely be here at the college than at the high school. If someone lived in the Fayetteville area—someone who had access to the Boyett farm—he or she more likely met Gates at the college versus the high school.

If this was even the connection. Could be a dozen other things, but this was the simplest, most logical place to start.

There were sixty rosters. Two classes per semester, two semesters for each of the fifteen years on staff. Thankfully the rosters were only one page each. The classes averaged around twenty students, sometimes fewer.

Vera took a deep breath and began the tedious task of scanning the names. Her gaze snagged on a name from thirteen years ago. That same name appeared in two consecutive semesters.

Microbiology I and II. Suri Khatri.

Vera sank back into her seat. Defeat sucked at her.

Too soon to overreact, she told herself. Suri was a mortician ... of course she’d taken microbiology.

Vera blinked. This didn’t mean anything. There were surely other Lincoln County residents in this list of more than a thousand names.

But this one was connected to the Boyett family ... this one was Eve’s best friend. Heart pounding, Vera ran through every single page—thank God the names were in alphabetical order—and checked for Eve. She wasn’t there. Relief rushed through her. So maybe Eve hadn’t lied about not knowing Gates.

Except Suri was her best friend ...

Vera’s pulse reacted to a new thought. Eve would help her friend, no question.

But which of them committed the murder? And why?

Russ Agency

9th Avenue SW, Huntsville, Alabama, 1:30 p.m.

The office space where Teresa Russ ran her PI agency was nicer than Vera expected. A neat brick building that was once an elementary school in a gentrified part of town.

Rather than show up cold as she’d originally planned, Vera had called and made an appointment for 1:30 p.m. Russ had been happy to rearrange her calendar to make room for Vera. In fact, she had sounded ecstatic.

The door opened to a small lobby, which led into a series of office spaces, some still vacant but all newly updated. Russ had sent a text message with her photo enclosed. Vera had done the same. She’d also reread the research material Eric had provided. Russ was sixty. She had been a licensed private investigator for close to thirty years. She’d started right out of high school as the secretary for a low-rent PI in the West Huntsville area. When he passed away seventeen years later, she’d taken over his shop and earned a damned good reputation in the business, if the reviews on Google were any indication. No issues had been filed with the Better Business Bureau. No reason not to expect the woman to be on the up-and-up.

If Vera were lucky, this could be a good lead. Though she still wasn’t convinced Sheree had any real friends, particularly ones who remembered her twenty-odd years later. But if someone had hired Russ ... that name could be very relevant.

A woman stepped from what Vera presumed was an office and smiled. Blonde. Trim. Attractive. Russ.

“Ms. Russ.” Vera offered her hand. “Thank you for making time to speak with me.”

Russ grasped her hand, gave it a shake. “Of course. I appreciate you coming. I hoped Luna would pass my message along to you.”

“She actually passed it along to Sheriff Benton, but I’m assuming the two of you haven’t connected.” Bent hadn’t mentioned it anyway.

Russ took an audible breath. “Let me say one thing up front: your sheriff did call me, but I chose not to speak with him.” She put up her hands in a stop sign fashion. “No offense to local law enforcement, but let’s just say I have my reasons.”

“I see.” Vera could live with that ... maybe. Technically she was not in law enforcement. “My sister tells me you knew her mother, Sheree.”

“Let’s go into my office. I have my files there for you to see.”

“All right.” Vera followed her into the office. Right off the bat Russ had evaded a question. Not a good sign.

Russ closed the door and gestured to a round conference table on the far side of the room. Vera took a seat, and the PI did the same. Hope had started to sing in her blood. She really needed this lead to be useful. The ability to protect her family was swiftly diminishing.

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