Page 13 of Closer Than You Know

“Son of a ...” Vera gritted her teeth. And then she did the unthinkable. She turned the volume all the way down and deleted the voicemail.

Regret bloomed in her chest the instant she had done it. She shouldn’t have ...

But it was necessary. Norton Gates—the scumbag—had been a serial rapist and an overall piece of shit. No one even missed him. Thankfully, the investigation into the man’s death had gone nowhere because no one had a damned clue what had happened to him. But Vera understood with utter certainty that if and when the facts ever came to light, Bent would not forgive her for failing to share the details about Eve’s involvement.

“Find anything?”

She jumped.

“Sorry.” Bent stood in the doorway. “I haven’t found anything so far other than the man’s fetish for peanut butter M&Ms and gummy bears.”

“Still looking.” Vera grabbed for the next drawer.Don’t look at him. He will see the lie in your eyes.

While she pilfered through the crisp, clean notepads, Bent walked to the bookcase and picked through the paperbacks and hardcovers stored there. Nolan Baker appeared to be an avid reader.

“Am I keeping you?”

Her gaze shifted to Bent. “What?”

“I thought I heard you talking to someone. If you need to leave, just let me know.”

Her throat went dry. “No. No. It’s just ... I’m having lunch with Eve. I told her I’d be there when I could. No worries about that. I’ll catch her later.”

“If you’re free after lunch, we can visit some of Baker’s coworkers.”

She nodded, swallowed, even with her dry throat. “Sounds good.”

Bent wandered out of the room, and Vera continued the search of Nolan’s home office. Didn’t take that long. She imagined anything important was on his laptop or his cell phone. Basically, the effort proved a waste of time. Nolan had no notes whatsoever on the Time Thief—at least not in his home office. Maybe if he had an office or cubicle at the newspaper, there would be something there.

Otherwise, the idea that he hadn’t made notes suggested he didn’t need to. He already had the details and answers others might be looking for.

She would have a look at his official workspace when they spoke to his colleagues.

Somehow her brain couldn’t seem to focus on Nolan Baker or the Time Thief.

The only thing on her mind right now was Norton Fucking Gates.

Vera thought of the tracks in the freshly fallen snow behind her house this morning. Those tracks had come from the barn, which wasn’t all that far from the cave. Someone had been there and obviously hadn’t cared that she knew about the visit. Evidently wanted her to know ... to worry. To wonder.

Bottom line: no matter that Gates’s remains had eventually been moved to a cemetery in Madison, Alabama, his ghost was still here in Fayetteville. Rattling around the edges of Vera’s and Eve’s lives.

Why the hell hadn’t Eve buried him in a place no one would ever look?

6

Barrett’s Funeral HomeWashington Street, Fayetteville, 11:30 a.m.

Vera’s sister Eve was four years younger than her. She had been ecstatic when her parents brought her home. For Vera, having a little sister had been like having a real-life baby doll all her own. They had the same blond hair. Vera still wore hers long, while Eve preferred a short, spiky style. Same blue eyes. But the coloring was pretty much where the resemblances ended. Vera was taller, thinner. Bossier, Eve would say.

By the time Eve was around six years old, it had become very clear there were other differences. Eve was fascinated with the dead. Whether it was insects, animals, or humans, the child was drawn to anything no longer living. Not really in a bad way—at least not at first. Whenever they had come upon something dead—any sort of bug or bird or whatever—Eve insisted there be a proper burial, including a prayer.

Visits to funeral homes were not so different. Eve would spend more time at the deceased’s coffin than anyone else in attendance. More than once she was caught talking to the corpse. On one occasion she ended up asleep under a row of chairs in the viewing room, and a miscommunication between their parents and grandparents resulted in Eve being left at the funeral home. An attendant found her hours later, still asleep, except she was no longer on the floor under the chairs. Eve was in the coffin with the deceased.

It was no wonder, after years of failing at various jobs and a number of false starts in college, she ended up in mortuary school and then working at a funeral home.

Also not surprising that her best friend and girlfriend had the same occupation at a competing funeral home across town. Eve’s whole life, so to speak, revolved around the dead.

Vera took a breath and knocked on the door to the mortuary room. She hadn’t bothered asking in the office where her sister was. Eve spent her breaks, more often than not, right in this room where the dead were prepared.

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