Page 84 of Closer Than You Know

His word wasn’t worth shit, but she’d already given him her word about what she would do if he didn’t give her a heads-up. And she suspected he understood this was a promise.

When she would have turned away, his voice stopped her. “He taunted me about being inside your home.”

The fury she’d kept under control for the most part threatened to boil over again. “How nice of him to give his old grandpa a few jollies.”

“I warned him that I was going to tell you, but he only laughed. He said he’d left you a gift—a secret message that only you would understand—somewhere in your house, but it would likely be too late when you found it.”

Vera pointed a finger at him. “You better not be lying to me.”

“As I said, you have—”

“Yeah, yeah. Your word.”

She walked away from him. As she reached the door, he said, “It was good to see you again, Vera.”

Fucking piece of shit.

She banged on the door and got the hell out of there. She didn’t speak to anyone, just walked away. It took every fiber of self-control she possessed not to run.

Eric hurried to catch up with her. “The warden will be waiting to hear how the meeting went.”

“No time,” she said. “We have to get back to Fayetteville.” Eve needed her. This was Vera’s fault, damn it. She had to fix it.

“He told you who’s working for him?”

“I’ll tell you everything on the way.”

Vera didn’t say another word until they were in Eric’s car, headed south. The walls in places like that prison had ears.

“We screwed up,” she said. The weight of what she now knew had parked like a dump truck on her chest. Fear snaked around her throat ... squeezed to the point she could barely breathe. And Eve had gotten the short end of the stick.

“I’m afraid to ask what that means.”

“Palmer Solomon set us up to protect his grandson.”

“That’s impossible.” Eric glanced from the road to her and back, his head moving side to side in denial. “The grandson wasn’t much more than a kid.”

“Patrick was a serial killer in training who came into his own at a young age. Solomon was so proud, until he recognized the kid couldn’t protect himself. It was too late then; I’d already discovered his latest victim.” She scrubbed at her eyes. God, she needed sleep, but that was not possible.

“Gloria.” Eric’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “Son of a bitch.”

“Yeah.” She rubbed at her forehead and the ache pounding there. “Because I got too close, dear old Palmer decided Patrick wouldn’t ever be able to avoid being caught the way he had, so he made a deal. The grandson would stop killing, and Palmer would take one for the team.”

Eric cut a horrified look at her. “Just the sort of grandfather every teenage boy needs.”

“But now the grandson is angry that his beloved mentor is dying.” She shrugged. “Maybe he had a breakdown after all the pressure of med school and his residency. Add to that his grandfather’s imminent death. Who knows? Whatever tipped Patrick over the edge, he’s out for revenge.” She closed her eyes for a moment to pull herself together. “Alcott should check on the mother—Pamela. Solomon mentioned that she hadn’t taken care of the kid. I don’t think he would have mentioned that fact if it wasn’t relevant.”

“Got it.” Eric glanced at her. “Anything else I should know?”

“He’s been watching me for weeks at least.” The words ripped at her soul. “He’s been in my house. He knows everything I do. Everything my sisters do.”

“And he has Eve.”

Vera stared at the highway ahead of them. “Yeah.”

32

Boyett FarmGood Hollow Road, Fayetteville, 2:45 p.m.

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