17
Lincoln Medical Center
Medical Center Boulevard, 5:40 p.m.
The county was fortunate that a small portion of the basement level of the hospital had been designated as a temporary morgue—with a newer permanent location coming. For this region, autopsies were performed in Nashville. But since their new medical examiner had formal training in forensics, she could do the preliminaries here before shipping the bodies to Nashville.
Good for the county when there was a murder case and time was an issue.
Truth was, their previous ME had done the same thing without all the fanfare of a private little brick-and-mortar location to call his own. But then he’d had other failings. The old bastard had held the position far too long and used his vast knowledge of the townsfolk to his and his family’s advantage.
But at least he hadn’t been enamored with Bent.
Vera kicked aside what was nothing more than pure jealousy and prepared for listening to Jenny Collins regale the two of them with her brilliant deductions.
Bent parked at the back of the hospital. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“What?” Vera had zoned out on the drive here. Maybe she should have taken a rest when Bent suggested it. She did feel like total roadkill. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about the case.” Not really, but no need for him to hear what she’d really had on her mind. She doubted Bent had ever suffered a smidge of jealousy in his life.
Well, except maybe when her friend Eric visited last spring. There might have been a moment then.
“I was saying that Geneva stopped by the office after she got back from Nashville. She’s pushing hard for an official investigation into Jackie’s death.”
Vera wanted to shake the woman. “You have an obligation to look into her allegations. We’ve discussed this already.” The whole subject was becoming redundant and increasingly annoying. “What does she want? For you to set aside the triple homicide case and focus solely on what happened to Jackie?”
Of course she does, Vera Mae.Jackie was her sister. She’d likely poisoned Geneva’s opinion of Luna. Made her believe Luna was some conniving little nefarious vixen who’d stolen her son. It was unbelievable what some mothers would do to keep their sons to themselves.
“I assured her we are working on it.” He flashed Vera an expression that saidbut. “I didn’t mention that you’re involved. I’m sure that would only have made matters worse.”
“Of course it would.” She reached for his hand, gave it a squeeze. “Thanks, Bent. I realize this isn’t easy for you either.”
“Did you learn anything from Luna that might give us new insights into what, if anything, happened beyond what she’s told us?”
Vera leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes for a moment. “She stands by her story, and I can’t believe it was any different than what she says. I mean really, Bent. Why in the world would she do something like that? Jerome chose her despite his mother’s disapproval. There isn’t a single reason that comes to mind for her to suddenly decide to get his mother out of the way.”
Then again, Luna’s hormones might be raging. But the fact was pregnant women were far more often the victims of homicide than the perpetrators.
“The text messages Geneva showed me matched what was on Jackie’s phone, but none gave us anything useful beyond how much the two dislike Luna.” Bent leaned his head back against his seat as well, allowing a measure of his own exhaustion to show. Not something he did often and maybe only now to make Vera feel better.
“You never told me what was said in the text messages.” Vera probably didn’t want to know.
“I didn’t see the need to make you any angrier, considering none of it provided enough evidence to initiate an official investigation. Basically she ranted about Luna not doing anything right—to her way of thinking. Accused her of being just like her mother.”
Vera groaned. “That is so not true. Luna is an amazing young woman who didn’t even know her mother.”
“She is amazing,” Bent agreed, “and she definitely is nothing like Sheree.”
Bent remembered Vera’s wicked stepmother as well. Anyone living in Fayetteville at the time would. Not to speak ill of the dead—oh why not—but Sheree was a conniving, controlling, self-centered ... Vera sighed. As she told Luna, her mother was a woman who’d never had a decent chance.
Vera straightened, stared directly at Bent. “Did Jackie indicate in any way in those text messages that Luna made her feel threatened or had done anything at all to make her nervous or afraid?” The mere notion was ludicrous.
“She did not, but she did say she wished Luna was out of the picture.”
Vera’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”
He sat up straighter then, too, nodded solemnly. “She did.”
“Like out of the picture how? Divorced?”
