The sound of her voice as she called her husband drifted toward them.
“As long as we can hear her, I think we’re good.”
Vee made a sour face. “You’re really taking her in?”
“Do I have a choice?”
As badass as Vera Boyett wanted to pretend to be, she was not as merciless as she would have anyone believe. She felt sympathy for her old enemy.
“You should talk to the DA and see if she can be released on her own recognizance. At least until Nolan is found.”
Bent bit back a smile. “You think that’s a good idea?”
Vee threw up her hands. “It’s not like she’s going to leave all this.”
He let the smile go then. “I think we can arrange something along those lines.”
Elizabeth returned to the living room. She cleared her throat. “Carl is on his way here. He’d like to drive me, if that’s all right.” She looked from Bent to Vee and back. “Since this is a first for me, what happens next?”
“While you’re giving your statement, Carl will work with Vera to try and nail down a description of this morning’s visitor. We may be able to get a sketch artist, but that could take some time.”
“When ...” Elizabeth cleared her throat again. “When will I be arrested?”
“We’ll work all that out at the office,” Bent assured her.
For now, he needed to get the details of whoever had left that message. Because it sure as hell hadn’t been for Nolan Baker.
That message was for Vee.
17
Boyett FarmGood Hollow Road, Fayetteville, 8:30 p.m.
Vera paced the distance between the kitchen and the front door for about the hundredth time. As exhausted as she was, she had to keep moving. The DA had gone along with Bent’s suggestion that Elizabeth Baker should be released on her own recognizance. Vera imagined there would be a favorable deal worked out eventually. No doubt one that included a big settlement for the victims to persuade them not to file charges. Vera wouldn’t put it past her to talk the three into saying they had begged to be a part of the plot—like some sort of independent film production. An equally large donation to the sheriff’s department to compensate for their wasted resources would likely keep the city officials happy as well.
A win-win situation.
Except they still didn’t know where Nolan was. She supposed that alone was punishment enough.
Vera was too exhausted to work up any real irritation at the woman. A tiger never changed her stripes. To expect Elizabeth to stop doing all in her power to be the one on the pedestal for all to see and honor was like expecting the sun not to rise in the east. Still, Vera felt an enormous amount of sympathy for Nolan. The fact that his mother was a narcissistwasn’t his fault, and yet he was the one paying the price. Then again, he wasn’t exactly Mr. Nice Guy himself.
“Whatever.” Life wasn’t fair sometimes. Family was often the biggest pain in one’s ass.
Except,if, as Vera feared, the Messenger was somehow involved in Nolan’s disappearance, then this was on her, not the Bakers.
Sadly, it was growing difficult to ignore the possibility that the Messenger had someone here orchestrating his plan. Either a colleague who had worked with him on some level all those years ago, or someone he’d prompted recently to do his bidding. The question was, Why now? What had tripped his trigger? Set him on the path of a new evil scheme?
This was the part that prevented Vera from jumping fully to that conclusion. Why would the Messenger—Dr. Palmer Solomon—suddenly start meddling in her life now? Better than twelve years—nearly thirteen actually—was a very long time to wait for revenge. His circumstances had not changed. It wasn’t like he was suddenly a free man and could do what he’d longed to do all this time. So why not do this last year, or ten years ago?
As much as she didn’t want to pursue that line of thought unnecessarily, she also didn’t want to ignore the possibility glaring right at her either.
Just as likely was the possibility that this was a copycat. Someone who had dug up enough details to lend authenticity to his work. No question that there were plenty of scumbags who held a grudge against her for ending their criminal careers.
Well, whoever it was, he had her full attention.
The memory of waking up to find those tracks in the snow and then, later, finding the open window and the message on her mirror nagged at her. Whoever was behind this had been in her house, and he’d wanted her to know it.
She thought of Nolan and the message on his mirror that was left just today.