Page 127 of Deeper Than the Dead
He shook his head. “I didn’t touch her, but I did fuck Rimmey up. As soon as I made bail, I went to his house. He was out cold again, stupid bastard. I gave him what he deserved. I was a little over-the-line pissed off, so I sort of went overboard. Now mind you, he was breathing when I left him.” He shrugged. “Evidently he lost that ability at some point later that night.”
“You killed him.” Vera tensed. Killers didn’t generally tell people—particularly ex-cops—about their murders.
“I didn’t say that.” He finished off his drink. “I said he was breathing when I left him. You wouldn’t want to go around telling folks I did something I didn’t.”
Vera held up her hands. “It’s usually better if you do the telling yourself. That’s how plea deals are made.”
“Well, if you do decide to spread rumors about me, I’d just have to swear that it was your daddy. That I witnessed the whole thing. I don’t figure you want me doing that.” Brooks stood, indicating the conversation was over.
Nice close. He was counting on her need to protect her father as insurance.
“It appears folks around here like their secrets,” she suggested, rising to her feet to look him more directly in the eyes. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have ended up in a ditch last evening.”
“I heard about that,” he said with a nod. “Some guys—women too—think they own the road. You should watch yourself, because there are folks who will do anything to keep their secrets.”
With that warning, he walked out of the living room and exited the house.
Vera was too absorbed in his final statements to react for a moment. The man had literally confessed to murder in her living room. But it was the other part that made her linger.
There are folks who will do anything to keep their secrets.
Her phone rang, the shrill sound making her jump and echoing through the big old empty house.
Where had she left it?
Kitchen.
By the time she reached it, it had sounded off for the third time. Bent’s name flashed on the screen. She hit Accept in the nick of time. “Hey.”
“It’s me.”
Like she didn’t know. He surely knew she’d added him to her contact list, but that was the way he’d always identified himself—way before she’d had a cell phone.
“You holding up okay?”
“Sure.” She touched her aching forehead. “How’s your day going?” It was Sunday. Maybe he was at home taking care of things like those horses.
“Busy. I’m at the office going through reports and all the other routine stuff I’ve ignored all week. I have a meeting with Gallagher and Trotter in five minutes, but I wanted to call you first. I have some good news to pass along.”
Vera dared to hope that he’d spoken to Preston Higdon and the judge had confessed to breaking into her house and running her off the road in an effort to protect his mother.
Don’t hold your breath.
“I got an email from the lab in Nashville. A guy there did me a favor and expedited the review of your mama’s remains. They found no evidence of past abuse or strangulation. No fractures of any sort.”
Relief rushed through Vera, no matter that she had known this would be the case. “Thanks. I hope Higdon is satisfied. He did nothing but waste the county’s money and make a fool of himself.”
“He’s not returning my calls this morning, so I’m guessing he’s heard and feeling embarrassed. Oh wait. It’s Sunday. He’s probably at church.”
“Thanks for letting me know.” Vera wished she could see Higdon’s face when he heard the news.
“There’s something else.”
Bent’s tone set her on edge. Ugh. She did not want any more bad news. “Don’t make me wait, Bent. Just tell me.”
“The judge doesn’t have a black SUV, but his administrative assistant has one. A black older-model Suburban.”
“It had to be him!” A fresh wave of outrage swept through Vera. No matter that she was aware black was one of the most common colors of SUVs on the road, she couldn’t help seeing this as confirmation.
