Less than ten minutes later, she was showered and dressed. She ran a brush through her hair, and her gaze snagged on the foggy mirror. It was impossible to look at a fog-covered glass of any sort without thinking of the Messenger and the notes he left on mirrors and car windshields. He was her first big case. A serial killer. One who almost got her as a young, inexperienced detective—and again not so long ago.
She shook off the memories, tossed her towel and discarded clothes into the tub and hurried back down the stairs as quickly as she dared. A glance out the window next to the door confirmed that Bent had arrived. He and Parson were propped against their respective vehicles. A man thing. Bent had surely had time to give Parson the bad news and show him a pic to make the formal identification. The body had already been shipped to Nashville, so seeing his brother in person wasn’t happening until after the autopsy.
Vera went through the steps for the security system and exited the house, locking the door behind her.
“Sorry about the delay.” She walked over to stand next to Bent and propped herself against his truck. Might as well act like one of the guys. She’d opted to wear her sheriff’s department T-shirt she’d purchased at the county fair last year, jeans, and her favorite sneakers. It was too hot for anything more sophisticated.
Parson looked from Bent to her. “So he was murdered.” He shook his head. “I knew it. I told him not to come.”
“Fill us in,” Vera urged, “on what your brother told you about why he was coming to Fayetteville.” She glanced at Bent, hoping he hadn’t already asked the same question. “We have witnesses who say they saw Seth Parson here over the past couple of weeks.”
“That sounds about right.” Parson nodded. “He hadn’t heard from Alicia in over two years. Before that they were a serious item. Had been off and on since high school. But Alicia had big dreams, so she was forever running off to chase those dreams.” He made a face. “Eventually she would come back and beg Seth to forgive her. He always did.”
“But she didn’t come back this time,” Vera suggested. “She asked him to come to her.”
“Yeah.” He laughed, a knowing sound. “She’d found her a real sugar daddy this time, except she was tired of playing the good little wife.”
“He told you all this.” Bent didn’t sound convinced, but Vera’s instincts had zeroed in on the man’s words.
“He did.” Parson shrugged. “She wanted her husband to catch her cheating. She told Seth he’d divorce her, and she’d get a whole lot of money along with all the elaborate gifts he’d bought for her like the Bentley she claimed she drove. A shitload of jewelry. She promised that she and Seth would be set for life.”
Vera and Bent exchanged another glance.
Bent was the first to respond. “Do you have any proof of what he told you?”
Excellent question. Vera wondered why Alicia hadn’t mentioned to Seth that her husband would be leaving her even more money if he was dead. It wasn’t such a big leap to assume she had explained the other option once Seth arrived and that the two intended to kill him for the bigger payoff. The trouble was, Seth had ended up dead too. And Alicia had almost landed in the same boat. But the biggest reason the theory no longer held merit, in Vera’s opinion, was the baby. She glanced at Bent. She couldn’t wait to share that news flash with him. Calling him on the drive back from Nashville with Nolan in the vehicle had been out of the question. Then she’d gotten distracted and puked on.
“I have no proof except what he told me.” Parson turned his hands up. “All the text messages were on his phone, so if you found it there’s your proof.”
“We didn’t find his phone.” Bent gestured to Parson. “We’ll need you to tell us whatever he said to you.”
Parson nodded. “Okay. She said she couldn’t make or take a call because she might be overheard. She claimed the staff watched her like a hawk, so everything was in text messages. In fact, she used a burner to communicate with Seth. She insisted using her personal cell phone would be too easy for her husband to discover. He watched her super close because his first wife cheated on him.”
Whoa. The first wife cheated? Vera shared a look with Bent. Wasn’t she the good wife? Vera shook off the thoughts. Hearsay. The claim would take some looking into. Besides, the whole story felt wrong to Vera. Anyone could have sent those text messages. Then again how would anyone other than Alicia know who to send them to?
“What about this woman?” Bent pushed away from his truck and showed Parson a pic of the unidentified female from the collection of crime scene photos on his phone.
“That’s Sandy. Sandra Owens. Shit, is she dead too?”
“Afraid so.” Bent put his phone away. “She has a tattoo with your initials on it.”
Parson patted his hip. “I have a matching one. We were a couple once, but that was a while ago. We’re just friends—were just friends. She and Seth too. Jesus. He must have asked her to come with him for some sort of backup. He kinda let on that he was worried it might be a setup. Maybe because Alicia wouldn’t talk to him. Just kept sending those damn text messages.”
If this man could be believed, the whole case might very well be solved, and the wife did it. Except no homicide investigation was ever wrapped up this easily by the sudden appearance of a stranger who seemed to have all the answers. Plus there was that bizarre reaction bythe pregnant woman still in a coma and the news about the knock on the back of her head. Vera could not wait to share the whole ordeal with Bent.
Ultimately, Vera realized, instead of Larry Parson coming forward with details that clarified more aspects of the case, he’d just thrown new scenarios at them that didn’t fit the narrative they already had.
“I can see that you firmly believe what you’re telling us,” Vera allowed, wading back into the conversation.
“Look”—Parson straightened away from his vehicle—“I know you can’t just take my word for it, but what I told you is how Seth—and Sandy, too, obviously—ended up here. You do what you gotta do to convince yourself, but I ain’t leaving until I find my brother’s killer. If it wasn’t Alicia, it was someone close to her. Had to be.”
Whether the statement was a promise or a threat, Vera didn’t doubt the man meant what he said.
There was always a chance he was his brother’s partner. After all, the actual killer was quite possibly still at large.
Parson provided his cell number. The number she had called had been his home number. Then he left to find himself a motel in town. It wouldn’t take long. There weren’t that many.
Once his VW Bus had disappeared from view, Bent turned to her. “Did you learn anything at the hospital?”
