Page 98 of Deeper Than the Dead

“They haven’t been identified,” Vera said. A voice in the back of her mind was now shouting that this couldn’t be right, when in truth, it made so much sense it was impossible for her to get a deep breath.

Russ picked up the file that lay on the table in front of her. “I can share this information with you,” she said. “Who knows if those remains belong to the women I’m looking for. If not, this could potentially rule them out. That would be tremendously helpful for me and for you.”

Vera sat up straighter, leaned forward a bit in anticipation of whatever she was about to see. Her heart had started to race at the possibility, no matter that her brain wasn’t ready to accept the idea. Putting a face and a name to human remains was always a great relief, as well as a huge responsibility.

It was the possible identity of the “sugar daddy” that had her logic debating itself.

“These are copies, of course.” Russ opened the file, and right there on top was a dental record. “These are Trina’s. There were none as far as I could find for Latesha. She had no family here, and I wasn’t able to locate anyone who knew their names or where they might be.”

Struggling to keep her respiration steady, Vera watched as she moved that page aside and uncovered a copy of an eight-by-ten photo.

“These aren’t the actual rings,” Russ explained as she turned the photo around for Vera to see better, “but Trina and Latesha had been best friends since first grade. When they were in high school, they got these rings, and both were still wearing them when they were last seen.”

The rings were the sort that when put together formed the words “Best Friends.” Apprehension and more of that anxiety rushed into Vera’s throat and stuck there, stealing her ability to comment.

Russ moved to the next page, a single sheet of typed notes. “I don’t know very much about Latesha, and Trina’s mother wasn’t sure about any potential distinguishing marks, but Latesha had a broken arm her junior year of high school. Her right arm, Mrs. Sutton recalled. Also, Trina wore a silver band with her prison release date engraved inside. I don’t have a photo of it, but her mother bought it for her. She said this was to remind her daughter that her new life had started on August first that year.”

Vera’s pulse shot into hyperspeed.

Then Russ revealed the final item. Another eight-by-ten photo. This one of two young women. Twenty, maybe twenty-one years old. Vera’s chest tightened to the point of crushing her ribs.

“This is Latesha.” Russ tapped the image of a striking blonde. “This one”—she pointed to the girl next to Latesha, a brunette, and gorgeous as well—“is Trina. Both had just turned twenty-one that year. They had their whole lives ahead of them.”

Vera stared at the items Russ had removed from the manilla folder. She’d seen all but the dental records and the photo of the women before ... in Bent’s home office. Deep inside she knew without additional proof that these were the two women who had been murdered and hidden in that damned cave. The truth of it pounded in her veins. Would this “sugar daddy” story further implicate her father?

Could it have been him? Had her mother been protecting him?

Or the other way around?

Regret pierced her, denial right on its heels. Didn’t matter. She knew what she had to do. To pretend otherwise would be preposterous at this point. Vera found her voice. “May I keep these?”

“Yes, I made these copies for you.” Russ placed the pages back in the folder and passed it to Vera.

“All right.” Deep breath. “I’ll see that the proper authorities receive them.”

Considering what she had here, Vera didn’t really get why Russ hadn’t gone straight to the sheriff’s office. Bent’s image had been all over the news. He’d asked for information in his press briefings. Not trusting the police didn’t actually make sense in view of this kind of evidence.

“Thank you.” Russ smiled sadly. “You may not understand this, and I apologize in advance if you don’t. Making it in this business—as a woman—wasn’t easy. My experience with the male-dominated world of criminal investigation—both private and civil—has been somewhat less than pleasant. Don’t get me wrong, I have the utmost respect for law enforcement, but I have rarely found the kind of support I needed there.” She laughed dryly. “It’s a little better now but, as they say, nothing to brag about.”

Vera struggled to keep her breathing level, waited for her to go on.

“Anyway, when I learned about the remains being found on your family farm, I did some digging. I read about you, Vera. What happened in Memphis is a tragedy, but your reputation in law enforcement is nothing short of incredible. I don’t know the sheriff there, and I damned sure don’t know the FBI agents, but I feel like I know you from all I’ve read. Help me give this mother some peace.”

And there it was ... the eight-hundred-pound gorilla had just been placed on Vera’s back. No matter that this information might very well implicate her father in other affairs and possibly in murder—and maybe her mother in the cover-up—it was Vera’s responsibility to do the right thing. Suddenly she wished she hadn’t come ... that she didn’t know. But she did know, and there was no way to keep this a secret.

With the folder gripped in one hand, she reached for her bag. “I’ll be in touch.”

Russ stood. “I recognize this is a huge favor I’m asking of you.”

The woman had no idea.

“But I genuinely appreciate your help.”

Vera nodded, unable to trust her voice at this point. She walked out without looking back. Then she climbed into her SUV and got the hell out of there as quickly as she could. Once she was blocks away, she pulled over.

Hands shaking, she called Bent. He answered the same way he always did: “Hey.”

Vera took a deep breath. “Have you changed your mind about working together?” Their first official meeting had been delayed by the exhumation, and he hadn’t attempted to reschedule. Admittedly, he had been a little busy.

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