Page 54 of Closer Than You Know

“Good morning, Sheriff Benton.Vera.”

Will’s voice echoed in the room, setting her on edge. She and her former boss had been close. They’d shared an almost father-daughter relationship. She’d trusted him, respected him. But things were different now. This thing happening in Fayetteville had nothing to do with Memphis PD or her former boss. This, she had every reason to believe, was about her. The more outside interference, the more complicated the situation would become.

In her opinion, ultimately this was likely about revenge of some sort. Getting even. Though she had no idea why as to the timing, she understood with utter certainty that her conclusion was correct on some level and whatever the Messenger’s plan, it was going down. Now. Here, in Fayetteville.

Still, there was that other little detail that prevented his actions from making any sort of sense—that niggling idea that he had wanted her to catch him all those years ago. So why the encore now? If he’d wanted to be caught, why seek revenge? Maybe this was just a copycat who had a connection with Solomon, and the bastard’s old urges had him happy to advise a protégé on how to have the most fun.

“Morning, Will. Thank you for finding time to touch base with us. I know how busy your schedule is,” Vera said. Always be the diplomat. It was the first rule of negotiations, and this would no doubt be a negotiation. MPD wanted something. Quite possibly to ensure their reputation was not further tarnished by Vera Boyett.

“I have Special Agent in Charge Xavier Alcott with me.”

The agent from the Bureau who served as lead on the Messenger task force. No surprise, she supposed.

“Morning, Sheriff Benton, Vera,” he said. “I wish we were catching up under better circumstances. Resurrecting an old case is never an ideal situation.”

“Certainly not,” Vera agreed. She looked to Bent, who watched her intently. “Sheriff Benton will bring the two of you up to speed on what’s been happening here.”

His eyes still steady on her, he began with “I’m not sure we’re resurrecting anything. It’s possible your case was never quite dead.”

Vera bit back a smile. She felt confident the two top dogs in Memphis weren’t exactly overjoyed by the comment. Although there had never been any evidence the Messenger worked with a partner, it was certainly remotely possible. Just because the murders had stopped after Solomon’s arrest didn’t completely rule out the possibility. It did, however, make the idea far less likely—as she’d told Bent. But sheunderstood. He wanted to put it out there. Even if the idea of a surrogate was by far the most likely scenario, no need to overlook a single other option just to avoid ruffling feathers.

Besides, this was Bent’s jurisdiction ... his case—the top cops in Memphis needed to understand he was no easygoing good old boy.

From there Bent walked the two through the details of the past twenty-four or so hours. Vera found herself enthralled with the sound of his voice ... the stillness of him, but most importantly by the weight of his gaze on her. It was more like he was talking only to her; the words were for the others while the context was solely for her.

He would do whatever was necessary to protect the citizens of his county and the apparent target of this perpetrator. He wanted her to trust him ... to let him take care of her. Vera managed to pull herself away from the trance he wove around her. Stared beyond the window, anywhere but at him. She hadn’t allowed anyone that level of power over her since she was seventeen. It had only ever been him.

“Based on what you’ve told us,” Will said when Bent had finished speaking, drawing Vera back to the conversation, “I’m confident what you have is a copycat. Wouldn’t you agree, given what we all know about the Messenger case, that conclusion is far more likely?”

“No.” Bent glanced toward the window beyond his desk, maybe to look for whatever Vera had stared at for so long. “I’ve done my homework, Chief, and I’m confident”—his gaze shifted back to her—“that based on what we’ve seen so far, the Messenger is either orchestrating this or he’s here. We can’t ignore the possibility—however remote it might be—that you got only half of a team twelve years ago.”

Vera’s heart stumbled. It felt as if Bent had reached deep inside her and pulled out her deepest, darkest fear. She’d never dared to allow the idea to form fully in her mind. Not when all the evidence had seemed to suggest otherwise.

He waited then ... they all did ... to hear her reaction.

Rather than leave Bent hanging, she said, “Although there was no evidence of an accomplice or partner of any sort involved, it is apossibility that, in light of current circumstances, we need to consider. The lack of activity on the part of an accomplice would certainly suggest that one did not exist. There is also the idea that without Solomon to lead him, he went dormant. But maybe something has awakened those urges and brought him out of hibernation. We simply can’t risk ignoring the possibility.”

Five seconds of silence warned them that the two men on the other end of the call weren’t completely surprised by her and Bent’s conclusions.

“Otherwise,” she went on, “we need to find out why and how Solomon has reached out to prompt a surrogate to do his bidding. Frankly, it’s the timing that raises the most questions for the sheriff and me.”

Another extended moment of silence.

“I have spoken with the warden at the prison,” Agent Alcott said finally, “and I’ve interviewed Solomon, without discussing our suspicions about what’s happening in Fayetteville. He has had no new visitors—no visitors at all, really. His son stopped coming to see him recently. Solomon has received no letters other than the usual from the kind of fans these types get. Frankly, we have no reason to believe he’s orchestrating anything from his prison cell. As for having an accomplice when he was active, it doesn’t fit the profile. As you know, all involved firmly concluded that was not a possibility.”

Vera got the message loud and clear. They were not prepared to go there. “You’re confident this is nothing more than a copycat.”

Sure made life a lot easier for MPD.

“Yes,” Will hastened to confirm. “What we’ve heard so far has all the earmarks of a copycat.”

Bent said nothing; instead, he waited for Vera to say what was on her mind.

“Sheriff Benton”—she paused to see if he wanted to speak instead; when he made no effort to stop her, she went on—“and I will proceed under the assumption that we’re dealing with the Messenger’saccomplice or surrogate, and we would appreciate any assistance the two of you can provide from there.”

“Is that your plan, Sheriff?” Will countered.

Vera silently steamed at the question. The man was her former boss. They had worked together for thirteen years. That he would question her analysis this way was infuriating.

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