Page 112 of Deeper Than the Dead
He scoffed. “Why, I’m never too exhausted for these two.”
Vera turned in her chair to face the man as he rolled closer to the table. “Do you remember an investigation into two missing women, Latesha Johnson and Trina Sutton, from twenty-five years ago? They were from Huntsville but came to Fayetteville and were never seen again. I remember you said there were no unsolved missing persons cases under your watch.”
Walt considered her question for a time before responding. “I do. The one—Sutton, as I recall—had gone missing after supposedly coming to Fayetteville to look for a friend.” His face furrowed in thought as he searched his memories. “There was never any investigation conducted by the Fayetteville Police Department or my office on the Johnson case. I only recognize the name because it was a part of the Sutton case—which FPD participated in. It was never my case, so what I told you is true.”
But he had known about the case, and he hadn’t told her. Slippery slope, Walt, she mused.
“Was FPD able to determine if Sutton was ever in Fayetteville around the time in question?” Vera asked.
He shook his head. “They found nothing to suggest she was ever here or involved with anyone here. Now”—he gave Vera a look—“does that mean she wasn’t? As you well know, it only means they didn’t find a witness who had seen her or owned up to seeing her.”
Vera wasn’t surprised. This was the way those types of cases usually went.
“We’re just trying to figure out,” Eve chimed in, “how the two ended up buried in our cave. Do you remember any other details about the investigation?”
That she looked at Beatrice when she said this made Vera cringe.
“Now that is a hell of a good question,” Walt confirmed, drawing Eve’s attention to him. “I said that exact same thing about how they wound up buried in your cave when Bent called me while I was in Nashville today. I think we could clear this all up if we just knew how that happened.”
Good to know that Bent wasn’t dragging his feet. As for Walt, Vera couldn’t quite tell if he was being facetious or helpful. She asked, “Do you have thoughts on the answer to that question?”
He chuckled. “You know I do. As I said, they never found a single thing on either woman. As for why those two were in that cave, I guess you’d have to ask your daddy about that.”
Vera felt the punch of his words like a blow. She threw a jab back at him. “Do you believe our father was having an affair?”
“I am not suggesting any such thing, nor do I believe any such thing,” he insisted. “Did he help out a friend by allowing him to use the cave? Maybe so. Vernon has always been a good-hearted neighbor.”
Beatrice had remained silent and utterly still since her husband started to talk, but her face had grown paler with each statement he made.
“You were his friend,” Vera offered. “Perhaps you were having an affair with one or both of the women, and it was you he helped.”
“Vera Mae Boyett!” Beatrice shot to her feet, her chair scraping across the floor. “Why in the world would you insult my husband this way?”
Walt laughed, but his wife was not even smiling. Vera met her fierce glare. “A friend of my family put those bodies in that cave. I’m just trying to figure out who it was.”
Beatrice shook her head. “I will not listen to a moment more of this.” She rounded the table to go.
“But, what about Dr. Higdon?” Vera demanded, causing her to stall. “He was friends with my father, and like you, his wife was friends with my mother.” Vera frowned. “Wait. Maybe I’m wrong, since neither she nor you came to visit Mama during her most difficult time. You seemed to fall off the planet when she needed you most.”
Beatrice hesitated for two seconds, then she stormed out of the room.
Walt sighed. “This situation has us all upset.” He rested his attention on Vera. “She’s just trying to protect me. Bea adored your mama.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Vera agreed.
Except the only thing she was certain about was the idea that Beatrice Fraley knew something that was eating at her ... eating her alive.
All Vera had to do was keep pouring on the pressure until the woman couldn’t hold it in any longer.
38
Benton Ranch
Old Molino Road, Fayetteville, 10:30 p.m.
Vera stood on the porch. She hadn’t knocked yet. The house was dark. Bent could be in bed already.
She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath.
