Page 16 of Closer Than You Know

Eve walked back to the table and checked on her work. “Couldn’t hurt to talk to him.”

Vera wandered in that direction. “Nolan hasn’t talked to you or Suri about Gates or the cave, has he? Recently or back during the investigation?”

“No way.” She shot Vera a look. “I would have told you.”

Probably true. But with Eve it was difficult to ever be completely certain.

“I guess I’m heading to Huntsville, then.”

If Bent managed to set up a meeting with Nolan’s colleagues, he would just have to go without her. She could follow up if he learned anything worth the trouble.

“If Bent calls,” she said to her sister, “tell him I was here with you at lunchtime.”

Eve nodded. “Be careful,” she warned. “I don’t trust lawyers.”

Vera laughed and gave her a little wave goodbye. No one trusted lawyers. Not if they were smart.

7

Remington & Sons LawJefferson Street, Huntsville, Alabama, 1:30 p.m.

Just her luck that the office was on the square in downtown Huntsville. Parking was insane. She found one spot, which only required a two-block walk. Good thing she wasn’t wearing high heels.

She’d taken the time to run home and change for this. The dampness in the cool air had her thankful she’d chosen her long trench coat. She’d had it forever, but the black color and classic style ensured she never had to worry about it going out of fashion. Strapped across her coat was her favorite new accessory: a cross-body-style bag to make hanging onto a purse easier. The hands-free ease of the bag made her happy. Relaxed her.Avoid stresswas her motto now. She couldn’t think why she’d never bought one before.

Speaking of stress, so far she’d ignored two calls from Bent. He’d left a voicemail the last time, but she hadn’t listened. It was difficult enough to ignore him; she damned sure didn’t want to punish herself by listening to his voice. If it was really important, he’d send an SOS text.

Pushing the thought aside, she opened the door to the law firm.

The lobby was quiet, elegant. Lots of glossy magazines and potted plants placed strategically around the room. The reception desk had a sleek wood grain with brass trim. Not really a desk—a counter. Three employees were stationed in the generous space behind it. Two on thetelephone and another, who glanced up at Vera, offered a gleaming smile, and said, “Good afternoon. How may I help you?”

“My name is Vera Boyett. I’m here to see Liam,” she said with the sort of familiarity that suggested they were friends.

The woman with the neat brown bob and matching chocolate-colored turtleneck sweater made a pouty face. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Boyett, but unless you have an appointment ...”

Vera smiled. “I do not have an appointment, but if you’ll let him know this is his friend from Fayetteville, I’m sure he’ll make time for me.”

One carefully manicured eyebrow lifted slightly higher than the other. “Give me one moment, please.”

The receptionist picked up the phone and tapped a button on the base. “I apologize for interrupting you, Mr. Remington, but there’s a Vera Boyett here to see you.” She listened a moment, then said, “She mentioned being a friend from Fayetteville.”

Surprise flashed on the receptionist’s face. “Of course. I’ll show her to your office.”

Vera kept the smugness that wanted to claim her own expression at bay. Not an easy task.

“This way.” The receptionist rounded the end of the counter and gestured toward a corridor that exited the lobby to the right.

There was also one to the left. The space was far larger than Vera had expected. A sort of maze likely designed for creating privacy. She glanced toward the other corridor as they left the lobby. There appeared to be a large conference room in that direction. Maybe more offices beyond.

The receptionist paused at a door on the right. “You may go on in.”

“Thank you.” Vera waited until the woman had started back to the lobby before opening the door.

Inside, the office was very much like the lobby, lavishly appointed. Lots of deep, rich colors and heavy wood tones. The man standing behind the desk looked to be in his early thirties and was extraordinarilyhandsome. Obviously very smart. So this was Liam Remington. No wonder Nolan liked him.

“Ms. Boyett,” he announced with a dazzling smile, “welcome.”

Vera walked straight up to the desk and extended her hand. He shook it. “I’m here about Nolan.”

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