Page 77 of Closer Than You Know

Bent gritted his teeth. It wasn’t a lot of blood, but enough to suspect Eve hit the floor face first. Her nose or lips may have been injured and bled from the impact. No way to be certain.

“I called Vee,” Suri went on. “Locked myself in here like she said and waited.”

Vee gave her shoulders a squeeze. “I’m so sorry about this, Suri.”

Bent looked to Jones and then jerked his head toward the door. The other man followed him out of the room. When they reached the living room, Bent turned to him. “At this point, I think we can accurately assume he’s been here for at least four or five days.” He kept his voice quiet to prevent Suri overhearing. “Whoever this guy is, he’s been watching and getting the lay of the land.”

“Which means he has a landing place,” Jones said, concurring with the scenario. “I wouldn’t doubt he’s been here even longer.” He exhaleda heavy breath. “My advice would be to do a press conference. It’s time to warn the public. Have people call in any strangers they’ve seen. Any suspicious behavior. Basically, anything or anyone that doesn’t belong.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Bent agreed. “We can’t really provide a description other than the image the sketch artist came up with, based on Carl Baker’s account of the man he encountered who claimed to be from my department.”

Frankly the image could be anyone. No definitive hair or eye color. Medium height and weight. Baseball cap. No logo Carl could remember. Jacket and jeans. It was basically worthless.

Jones grimaced. “That sketch is so generic I’m not sure I would even use it. We don’t want people ruling out anyone because some tiny characteristic didn’t fit the sketch.”

“I agree.” Bent mentally ticked off the folks he would need to call. “I’ll set it up.”

By dawn he wanted to have a community-wide search in place, just as they had done for Baker. He couldn’t even fathom how terrified Eve would be right now. It was true that she would be fiercely ticked off, but beneath all that bravado, she would be scared, and he hated the idea of her going through that. Eve had suffered plenty in her life, and she didn’t need this kind of crap. She was like a little sister to Bent.

Wherever she was, he intended to find her and bring her home. And if this bastard had harmed her, he would see to it that he didn’t need a trial.

30

Saturday, March 8Lincoln County Sheriff’s DepartmentThornton Taylor Parkway, Fayetteville, 8:20 a.m.

Vera couldn’t really concentrate on the ongoing conference with Memphis PD. She, Eric, and Bent were in his office, crowded around the conference table. Voices floated from the phone’s speaker, but Vera couldn’t focus.

They had found no sign of Eve.

The pain of that reality stabbed deep into Vera’s belly. Her sister was missing.

Someone sent by Dr. Palmer Solomon had taken her. Fury writhed inside her like a snake shedding its skin, desperate to break free.

Bent had done everything right. He had started a search party and had the teams in the field by dawn. He had done one quick press conference urging folks to look for anything out of place ... anyone they didn’t recognize. If it wasn’t there before or had changed in some way, they were to call the sheriff’s office. A special hotline had been set up to handle the calls. Volunteers were manning the lines.

He’d contacted the sheriffs of the surrounding counties and had a BOLO out for Eve. Since they had no idea what make or model vehicle the perp was using, there was no way to include anything other than Eve’s description.

A more in-depth press conference was scheduled for nine. Bent would give what little information they had to the public. Because all indications pointed to Solomon, the story would no doubt go statewide at least. Eric had set up a call to Talbert and Alcott to bring them up to speed.

Vera and the way her career ended in Memphis would come up in the media, but she didn’t care. Let them rehash the dirty details. All that mattered right now was getting her sister back safely and stopping the piece of shit the Messenger had sent.

He’s dying.Eric’s words reverberated inside her. Running out of time above ground. Funny how facing death often made people attempt to settle unfinished business. She would think, for the sake of his son and daughter as well as his grandson, Solomon would just go out peacefully. Was stirring up his old reputation going to help his grown children who had to go on in this life? Maybe one or the other intended to publish a book, and Daddy was providing a little media boost as well as a killer ending.

Around three this morning, with Eric’s help, Vera had done a deep dive into Solomon’s offspring. Pamela Solomon Hamilton divorced her one and only husband after only a few months of marriage just last year. She had one adult son named Patrick. Pamela lived in London. She’d kept an almost invisible profile since the arrest of her father. No social media accounts or interaction at all. Her son had been only seventeen at the time of the arrest. Based on her age when the boy was born and the fact that his last name was Solomon as well, he had been a surprise, and she hadn’t married or acknowledged his father. Whatever the case, the kid had gone on to do well. He had finished medical school at Vanderbilt University and was currently in his final year of a residency at the Vanderbilt University Medical Center. His academic profile was outstanding. Although he had social media accounts on the most popular platforms, he did little interacting. A social media prowler, she imagined. One who only liked to scroll.

Christopher Solomon had pretty much carried on with his life after the sentencing of his father. He had never married. He was forty-six. Had no children. A mediocre career in real estate. His business had floundered for a while after his father’s arrest, but he appeared to be back on his feet now. No social media profiles. His private life was vague at best. She supposed being the son of a notorious serial killer wasn’t the best way to win friends and develop influence.

Nothing remarkable about the history of Solomon’s offspring before or since his arrest had jumped out at her.

Eric had called both Christopher and Pamela and left voicemails. Both deserved a warning about what was coming. Daddy was up to no good again.

Vera had no sympathy for either of them. Christopher had spoken to her outside the courtroom after his father was sentenced. Blaming her for what happened. Pamela hadn’t bothered with an appearance, but her son was there.

You did this to him,Christopher had insisted, his nephew at his side.

She supposed loyalty for one’s father and grandfather was appropriate. No matter that Dr. Palmer Solomon had murdered ten women. Then again, Eve had certainly protected their father all those years. And Vera had protected Eve.

But it wasn’t the same. Their father hadn’t been a murderer. Eve wasn’t a murderer. Not even remotely in the way Solomon was.

---