Parson held up his hands. “Like I told you, I’m not going anywhere until I know why this happened to my brother.”
Something about this man’s answers—his brother’s past drawing him into trouble—unsettled Vera. Maybe because she knew better than most how the past could do just that. Old ghosts were rarely laid completely to rest.
When they were outside, Vera warned Bent, “I’m following you home. I don’t want to be at the farm tonight.”
He shot her a heart-stopping smile across the hood of his truck. “Good.”
Benton Ranch
Old Molino Road, 9:00 p.m.
Not only had Bent prepared dinner, but he’d gone to her house and picked up everything she would need for tomorrow while Vera soaked in his big old claw-foot tub. Although she kept a set of her usual toiletries and cosmetics here, she’d run out of clothes and underthings.
By the time she was out of the tub, had blown her hair dry and pulled on her favorite nightshirt (that old Bon Jovi tee he’d bought her a million years ago), he already had dinner prepared.
Now, that was a man who understood how to treat a woman.
Seated at the table, Vera poured herself another glass of wine. He kept a decent selection, no matter that he was definitely not a wine man. For guests, she supposed. She’d have to remind him to get more merlot. He also kept a bottle of Gentleman Jack on hand for those evenings that required a little more bracing. Vera was a big fan of Jack.
Bent checked his cell, then left it on the counter and rejoined Vera. “That was a text from Conover. He lifted a good many prints from Erwin’s apartment and confirmed the locks did not appear to have been tampered with.” He picked up his glass of tea. “You know how this goes. The chance of finding a comparison print not belonging to someone she knows in one of the databases is unlikely. More frustrating, whoever broke into Erwin’s place apparently used a key and probably wore gloves.”
The same way they didn’t find anything useful at the farm after she and Erwin were attacked. Erwin had recalled that their attacker had worn gloves, so they were never going to. Breaking-and-entering cases were difficult to close with fingerprints alone unless there was a match in the database or an actual suspect for comparison. A suspect too stupid to wear gloves.
“You know.” Vera settled her glass back on the table. She was feeling very relaxed just now. “Erwin has been at the top of my suspect list alongside Alicia Wilton all week. Particularly after I spoke with the mother of Nola Childers. That whole story of their years as roommates and friends and then Childers’s sudden, bizarre death and Erwin getting her position with Wilton—it was just too much. How could she not be at the top? And after what I witnessed in Alicia’s hospital room and the news about her pregnancy, she dropped below Erwin on that list.”
“But you’re not so sure anymore.” Bent traced a trickle of sweat down his tea glass with a fingertip. “About either one. Not really.”
Vera watched the move with far too much interest. She tried to push away the image of him using that finger to trace a path down her body, but it wasn’t going anywhere.
Focus on the case ... The other is for later.
“I am not. What we’ve learned about Erwin certainly makes her a bit on the odd side, but not necessarily a murderer—at least not in our case. Parson confirmed her story about his arrival at the Wilton house. She obviously was wrong about him being the attacker. It’s not impossible that our attacker wore the same aftershave as Parson, but more likely she wants it to be him because it makes sense to her. His brother was somehow involved with Alicia and ultimately ended up a victim. Erwin wants to connect all the pieces. Her subconscious may be helping her along.”
Vera exhaled a big breath. “Then we have Seth Parson, whose brother insisted he had not heard from Alicia in two years until about three weeks ago, so we can assume Seth is not the father of her child. And, if Larry Parson is telling the truth about when he arrived in Fayetteville, I don’t see how either of them could be involved. Not really, considering Seth is dead. So the real question is, Who was at the cabin besides the four? Alicia was clearly running from someone.”
“You said yourself,” Bent countered, “that Erwin is hiding things—like the first wife’s affair and the second wife’s pregnancy. Maybe she was there or knows who was.”
“I don’t doubt she knows who was there, but that doesn’t make her a killer. Frankly, I can’t be positive she knew about the pregnancy, but she certainly put on a show of being surprised when I told her.” Vera rubbed at her forehead where the tension was building. “She was obsessed, it seems to me, with Thomas Wilton.”
“Moving Erwin down.” Bent braced his crossed arms on the table. “Right next to the Parson brothers.”
Vera made a face. “But the first wife did die in a bizarre accident. What if Thomas Wilton wasn’t the fine, upstanding guy everyonebelieved he was—at least not where his wives are concerned? And maybe Erwin is hiding what she knows about that too.”
“I see where you’re going, but we don’t have anything other than the first wife’s suspicious accident to put in his guilty column, and he’s dead. So who, if anyone, are we moving up?”
Vera finished off her third glass of wine, which was more than enough, it seemed, since she was feeling far too comfortable. “Okay. Okay. Let’s go through this again. We can agree that Seth Parson and Sandy Owens were both lured into what happened. Everyone we’ve interviewed until now would have us believe Alicia is the one who invited them. So I suppose it actually makes sense—no matter what my gut tells me—to keep Alicia tied with Erwin on the list in spite of the pregnancy and all else. She may have hired someone to kill her husband, and we just haven’t discovered it yet. The rest of those killed were for show—to lead us off in other directions. She was injured to deflect guilt.”
“That would mean Alicia wanted the probable father of her child dead,” Bent reminded her.
Vera groaned in frustration. “Maybe.” Vera wasn’t convinced that was the case, but it was an option they couldn’t deny at this point. Another thought occurred to her. She sat up straighter. “What if it was Wilton who lured Seth here? All communications were via text before Seth and Sandy arrived—as far as we know. And Wilton did go pick the two up for the weekend at the cabin. Think about it. Given his history as a creator and a businessman, I wouldn’t take him for someone who allows others to be in charge of any aspect of his life.”
Bent leaned back in his chair. “Good point. Maybe in the end it all went wrong, and Seth killed him.” His gaze narrowed. “After seeing what her old friend has done, Alicia kills Seth and Sandy.”
Vera made a face. “But who hit her in the back of the head? Who was she running from? There absolutely had to be another person involved—assuming the blow to the back of her head was sufficient to incapacitate her.”
“We haven’t found even one other potential suspect,” Bent reminded her. “Not a single business associate who wanted Wilton out of the way. Olson and Hastings have spoken to the entire list Erwin and the attorneys provided. As Erwin has said repeatedly, he doesn’t appear to have had any enemies.”
Vera propped her elbow on the table, rested her chin in one hand. God, she was tired. “That takes us back to Erwin, Carter, Hernandez, and Martinez. Those were the closest to Thomas Wilton. One of them has to know something about our fifth player.”
