“I hope you’re right.” Vera struggled to regain a bit of actual calm. “He does love her. We can both see that, but his mother just died, and his aunt is accusing Luna of being responsible.”
“And his father had a heart attack,” Eve put in. “I think he’s going to be more concerned with his father and Luna than anything Geneva says.”
Vera sagged against the counter. “I guess you’re right.”
“Oh my God, we had to go through all that just for you to see that I’m right?”
“Don’t push it.” Vera decided she didn’t need another cup of coffee and poured it down the drain. “I have a million calls to make, and I may have to take a trip to Nashville myself, so I should let you go.”
“She’ll be fine,” Eve repeated. “Luna promised she would text us when she arrived, and she would keep us posted on how things go. So don’t go checking up on her. Old Geneva will really go over the edge if you show up.”
Vera’s mouth gaped. “Why? I didn’t push her sister down the stairs.” That was the way of things, though. Vera was always the one everyone gossiped about. Everything the Boyett sisters did ultimately landed on her shoulders.
Now she did roll her eyes. She would always be the outsider for daring to leave, staying gone so long and then having the audacity to come back.
“You know how it is, Vee. Don’t let it get to you. Look at it this way: As long as they’re talking about you, they’re letting someone else rest.”
Vera smiled. Their mother always said that. “Yeah, yeah. And, just so you know, if I go to Nashville, it’s about the Wilton case. Speaking of which, I need to get to it. I’ll check in with you later.”
“Hey,” Eve said before Vera could disconnect.
“What?”
“Just don’t go getting yourself in a bad spot. You have a habit of drawing a big-ass target on your back when you dive into an investigation.”
Her sister had a point. “It’s the only way to find the whole story. When the killer reacts, you know you’re getting close.”
“That’s what worries me. Talk to you later.”
The call ended, but Vera didn’t move for a bit. The fact was that the only way to flush out a killer was to get as close as possible. She knew that better than anyone. Most homicide detectives would agree.
Vera headed to her office. She’d left Bent in his bed at five this morning. She’d awakened early and hadn’t been able to go back to sleep, so she’d come here to work. She’d spent an hour online looking for anything she could find on Valeri Erwin and any relatives she might have in her hometown of Knoxville and the surrounding area. Since she’d found very little, Vera had called her old friend Eric in Memphis PD. Eric Jones was the best at what he did. It wasn’t enough to call him a senior crime analyst. He was far more than simply that, but it was his official job title. With his connections and database access at Memphis PD, as well as with the FBI, he could find just about anything. Hopefully he would be calling her back soon.
Next up, Vera decided as she settled at her desk, was to find any available information on Nola Childers. Although Erwin’s roommate might have nothing to do with anything, she was at least partially responsible for Erwin landing in Fayetteville. Hopefully Childers had friends or family who would remember Valeri from the time period the two were at Lipscomb together. She also needed whatever she could find on Seth Parson and the mystery woman who were from New Orleans. Was Seth the addressee on the packages Erwin had mailed for Alicia? Or some relative of Alicia’s?
Bent would be at the Wilton mansion by now, executing the search warrant. If they were lucky, he would find something useful to the investigation. There were only two reasons for the sort of murders carried out at that cabin: love or money.
The love part was better defined as jealousy or obsession. To Vera that was the more likely scenario based on what she knew at this stage. A competitor, whether slighted by some deal or envious of some business arrangement, would have likely been more direct and concise about the murders. These kills spoke of passion far more so than mere anger or revenge over some business deal.
She reminded herself to visit the hardware store and check on that time stamp at some point today. Not that she was in a hurry. The truth was, for now, she could assume it was a mistake. Once she had confirmation—if it wasn’t—there was no unringing that bell.
Blocking the entire concept from her brain, she focused on the calls she needed to make. Finding information on most anyone was fairly easy online if you knew where to look. Particularly if social media was involved, and it generally was. From there, tracking down a phone number wasn’t a problem. When it was, she just called Eric. She and Eric had been good friends and colleagues for most of Vera’s fifteen-year career at Memphis PD. They’d briefly shared a more intimate relationship but had found they were better as friends. Mostly because Vera had spent the larger half of her life in love with Gray Benton.
A smile tugged at her lips. She supposed that had to be a sign. The two of them were meant to be together. The memories from Luna’s wedding had her thinking about wedding dresses and ...
Vera shut down that line of thinking and got on with her phone calls. Maybe she would make a few calls to see what she could find out about Seth Parson before digging deeper into Erwin. Finding anyone connected to Parson and the still-unidentified female vic could very well be far more relevant to how the two ended up dead.
An hour later Vera hadn’t found anyone available for questioning, but hopefully at least one or two of those she’d reached out to would call her back. Whenever she left a message in a situation like this, she tried to make it seem as if a return call would be in their best interest. No one ever wanted to think, even for a moment, that they could be in trouble with the law. It was kind of like the scam calls claiming to be from the IRS. Few people wanted to ignore the possibility they might be on an IRS call list.
Eric had gotten back to her almost immediately with a name. Seth Parson had a brother, one Larry Parson. The brother had been in prison for second degree robbery until four months ago. The phone number Eric gave her may or may not have been up to date, but she’d left a message. If she was lucky, she would hear back.
The echo of the doorbell had Vera getting up. She tucked her cell into her hip pocket, stretched and headed into the hall. Maybe Bent had news, though she imagined he would call since executing a warrant at a property as large as the Wilton place would take all day—at least.
She checked out a side window and was surprised to find Valeri Erwin at her door. Wasn’t she supposed to be with Bent? How strange and, frankly, inappropriate that she would show up here. But—Vera smiled in triumph—the move spoke loudly and clearly about one thing: Erwin was concerned about her past being dug up. Unless, of course, she had some big revelation to make. That was about as likely as snow in September in southern Tennessee.
Vera disarmed the security system and opened the door. “Ms. Erwin, did we have an appointment? I thought you’d still be at the Wilton home with Sheriff Benton.”
“No, I’m sorry. We don’t have an appointment, and the sheriff said I could leave.” Erwin wore a sad face. “I just couldn’t be at the house any longer while they ...” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “It makes it all too real.”
