All she had to do was give him the right opportunity. But first she had to see the bastard who’d started this thing.
It was always better to take some measure of what you were up against.
31
Riverbend Maximum Security InstitutionCockrill Bend Boulevard, Nashville, 10:30 a.m.
Eric made the turn onto Cockrill Bend Boulevard.
Before they could begin this journey, Vera had insisted on stopping by her house and changing. She couldn’t have cared less about what the reporters thought of her sweatshirt and jeans, but this was different. She needed Solomon to see the professional person he’d been drawn to all those years ago. With that in mind, she’d chosen a black suit. The skirt was tight, and the heels she wore were high. She’d even gone the extra mile with the makeup. Today she needed a full arsenal. Solomon might be an old man with terminal cancer, but he wasn’t dead.
And Eve was counting on her.
The drive from Fayetteville had been filled with equal stretches of silence and spurts of small talk. They hadn’t discussed the case or Solomon. Eric had asked about Eve, and Vera had told him about some of their adventures as children. She had laughed and barely held back the tears, but all in all, those moments had kept her from obsessing on the worst-case scenario.
She would get her sister back alive. Any other option was unacceptable.
“Bent is exactly what I expected,” Eric said as he parked in the visitor’s lot.
Vera turned to him. “That tells me I spent far too much time talking about him when you and I first started a personal relationship.”
He leaned against the headrest and pointed his face toward hers. “Sometimes, but only because I asked. I knew the impact he’d had on you, and somehow I couldn’t stop digging. Glutton for punishment, I suppose.”
“The whole situation was entirely your fault,” she warned. “I had sworn off relationships until you came along, so you opened that old can of worms.”
He smiled then. “I guess I did.” He searched her eyes for a moment. “Do you ever missus?” He frowned. “I mean, I’m completely in love with Anna. I’ve asked her to marry me.”
Vera smiled, despite the shitstorm of emotions sucking her into it. “Congratulations. That’s great. Really great.” Her smile faded a little. “I do miss us ... sometimes.” Why lie? “I miss the way we laughed together and how I knew without a doubt that I could always depend on you and that you would always be there.”
“Something Bent hadn’t done,” he suggested.
She nodded.
“But he’s older now,” Eric said. “He knows how to do it right this time.”
Vera laughed softly. “Who can say? Maybe it was me. Maybe I’m the problem.”
“Don’t lie to yourself, Vera,” he rebutted softly. “I saw how he looks at you, and I didn’t miss the way you look at him.”
“On that note,” she said, reaching for her door handle, “I think we should move on.”
He gave a single, firm nod. “Good idea.”
Warden Wyman Halston was waiting for them after they’d made their way through the security protocols.
Once the pleasantries were behind them, Halston moved on to the reason they were here. “Solomon refuses to see anyone but you, and as you’re aware, we can only record personal visits under certaincircumstances, and this is not one of them. Therefore, we will be relying completely on you to handle whatever comes up in conversation. Make no promises that you are not authorized to make.”
“Understood.” This wasn’t her first rodeo.
“You will have a private interview room, but there will be guards right outside. Solomon will be secured, and there is a panic button if the need arises.”
She nodded and repeated, “Understood.”
“I’ll be right outside the door,” Eric assured her, “with the guards.”
“Very well,” Halston concluded. “Don’t make me regret the extra effort.”
From the warden’s office, two guards escorted Vera and Eric to the interview room. The wide gray corridors in a prison were always the same. Too brightly lit and full of echoes and whispers of anger and hate and agony. And the smell. Sweat, fear, with a hint of urine. Never a pleasant place.