Page 17 of Closer Than You Know (Vera Boyett #2)

Boyett Farm

Good Hollow Road, Fayetteville, 8:30 p.m.

Vera paced the distance between the kitchen and the front door for about the hundredth time. As exhausted as she was, she had to keep moving. The DA had gone along with Bent’s suggestion that Elizabeth Baker should be released on her own recognizance. Vera imagined there would be a favorable deal worked out eventually. No doubt one that included a big settlement for the victims to persuade them not to file charges. Vera wouldn’t put it past her to talk the three into saying they had begged to be a part of the plot—like some sort of independent film production. An equally large donation to the sheriff’s department to compensate for their wasted resources would likely keep the city officials happy as well.

A win-win situation.

Except they still didn’t know where Nolan was. She supposed that alone was punishment enough.

Vera was too exhausted to work up any real irritation at the woman. A tiger never changed her stripes. To expect Elizabeth to stop doing all in her power to be the one on the pedestal for all to see and honor was like expecting the sun not to rise in the east. Still, Vera felt an enormous amount of sympathy for Nolan. The fact that his mother was a narcissist wasn’t his fault, and yet he was the one paying the price. Then again, he wasn’t exactly Mr. Nice Guy himself.

“Whatever.” Life wasn’t fair sometimes. Family was often the biggest pain in one’s ass.

Except, if , as Vera feared, the Messenger was somehow involved in Nolan’s disappearance, then this was on her, not the Bakers.

Sadly, it was growing difficult to ignore the possibility that the Messenger had someone here orchestrating his plan. Either a colleague who had worked with him on some level all those years ago, or someone he’d prompted recently to do his bidding. The question was, Why now? What had tripped his trigger? Set him on the path of a new evil scheme?

This was the part that prevented Vera from jumping fully to that conclusion. Why would the Messenger—Dr. Palmer Solomon—suddenly start meddling in her life now? Better than twelve years—nearly thirteen actually—was a very long time to wait for revenge. His circumstances had not changed. It wasn’t like he was suddenly a free man and could do what he’d longed to do all this time. So why not do this last year, or ten years ago?

As much as she didn’t want to pursue that line of thought unnecessarily, she also didn’t want to ignore the possibility glaring right at her either.

Just as likely was the possibility that this was a copycat. Someone who had dug up enough details to lend authenticity to his work. No question that there were plenty of scumbags who held a grudge against her for ending their criminal careers.

Well, whoever it was, he had her full attention.

The memory of waking up to find those tracks in the snow and then, later, finding the open window and the message on her mirror nagged at her. Whoever was behind this had been in her house, and he’d wanted her to know it.

She thought of Nolan and the message on his mirror that was left just today.

That message was meant for Vera. She knew it. No point pretending.

If not the Messenger, who?

The endless list of creeps that knocked around in her head was mind boggling.

At this point, regardless of the perp’s true identity, she had to prepare for the worst. Which meant her sisters weren’t safe.

“Damn it.” She pulled out her cell and called Luna. Jerome Andrews, her new husband, answered. The two had decided to get married back in January rather than wait until June. “Hey, Jerome, is Luna around?”

“Sure thing. Hold on.”

Vera wasn’t entirely convinced that Jerome liked her. His family didn’t like any of the Boyett sisters, not even their new daughter-in-law. Vera didn’t really care, other than she wanted her baby sister to be happy.

“Hey, Vee,” Luna said, sounding breathless, “everything okay?”

Vera winced. Had she interrupted the newlyweds? “I’m not sure,” she managed. “Is this a bad time?”

“No,” Luna said, “we were just working out. You know Jerome is really focused on physical fitness.”

For God’s sake. The man was twentysomething. Tall, lean, and handsome. How much more fit did he need to be? “Sorry. I can call back later.”

“Don’t be silly. What’s up?”

If she were talking to Eve, explaining her feelings and concerns would be easy. But this was Luna. Nothing was ever easy with Luna. Then again, Vera supposed she should just be thankful that Luna had forgiven her and Eve for burying her mother in that cave and then allowing her to believe for the next twenty-odd years that her mother had abandoned her. At the time, the only thing that mattered was that Sheree, Luna’s mother, was dead—no fixing that, so why tear apart the rest of the family? Vera and Eve had thought their decision to hide her body would keep the situation from turning into something far worse. Luna had been nine months old—she wasn’t going to remember her mother anyway.

Except they hadn’t considered the future ramifications. They were kids. Luna had felt the sense of loss far more profoundly as she grew older, and that was squarely on Vera and Eve.

Their relationship with Luna had been tense for a while. Though it hadn’t been easy, Vera and Eve had given her the time and space she needed. What else could they do? In fact, Vera was relatively certain the nightmare they’d kept secret from Luna was the reason she and Jerome had moved up the wedding date. Thankfully their baby sister had come around eventually.

“Look.” Vera cleared her throat, forced away the painful memories. “Remember I told you about that window I found open and the tracks in the snow?” No need to mention the other unlocked window. Or the message left on the bathroom mirror.

“I do,” Luna said slowly. “Is everything okay?”

“Well, unfortunately there’s a possibility the intruder was a bad guy related to my time at MPD. He may also be responsible for Nolan Baker’s abduction. We don’t have any real evidence right now, so I’m not getting too worked up about it, but I want you to be careful. Keep your eyes open for any stranger who gets too close. Let me know if you receive any sort of odd message.”

The next five or so seconds of silence told Vera that her sister was reaching for patience. Maybe even wondering what the hell else was being kept from her.

“Thank you for letting me know, Vee. I’ll tell Jerome. Don’t worry, we’ll be vigilant.”

“Good.” Immensely relieved, Vera took a breath. “I’m sorry about this ... thing. Occupational hazard.”

“You stay safe, too, Vee. Love you. Good night.”

“Love you too. Night.”

Things still didn’t feel exactly right with Luna. Not that Vera could blame her. She and Eve had brought this on themselves.

Next she called Eve.

“If this is about him , I can’t talk right now.”

“Hello to you too,” Vera snapped. Eve and Luna were totally opposite. Really nothing alike at all, personality-wise. “And no, it’s not about him .” Norton Gates was just another issue hanging over their heads.

“What’s going on?”

“Remember that serial killer, the Messenger?”

“Ye ... ah.” Her sister said the word as if it were two.

“There’s a chance someone he’s using or maybe someone who wants to be like him is the one who broke into the house. He may also be the one who took Nolan Baker.”

“Are you fucking serious? I remember reading about that creep. I think he had a thing for you.”

Vera closed out the voices that echoed Eve’s words. There were those, including her former boss, who were convinced the Messenger had some sort of obsession with Vera. She later learned the FBI had believed so as well and had used the idea to their benefit.

“Anyway,” Vera said, moving on. “You and Suri keep an eye out for strangers. Stay aware—the threat to anyone close to me may be real. Also, look for strange messages via email or left at your house or in your car. Basically anywhere.”

“Got it.” Eve hesitated. “Anything from Russ yet?”

“Not yet,” Vera admitted. “If I don’t hear back from her tomorrow, I’ll go to her office. For now, don’t worry about that problem. Just keep your eyes open.” She’d meant to follow up with Russ today. Damn it.

“Okay. Did you talk to Luna?”

“Yeah. She promised to be careful.”

“She sound okay to you?”

“Pretty much.” Sort of.

“I’m not sure she’s ever going to completely forgive us, Vee.”

Vera laughed a humorless sound. “Do you blame her? I mean, we let her believe her mother had abandoned her for most of her life. We suck at being big sisters.”

“It was Sheree’s fault,” Eve argued. “She did this to all of us.”

Vera closed her eyes. “No, Eve. Daddy did this to us. Sheree just egged it on.”

The woman had been young, only a few years older than Vera at the time. She’d glommed on to their father—made him forget all about his dead wife. She’d tricked him into marriage by getting pregnant, and then she’d taken everything she could get her hands on and continuously cheated. She’d ignored her baby, and on her last day of life, tried to drown the child in the bathtub. Still, no matter her horrific deeds, their father—God rest his soul—was the one who brought her into their lives.

“I guess you’re right,” Eve admitted. “Thanks for letting us know about this Messenger guy.”

“Sure thing. I love you, Eve.” Vera stamped her foot in frustration as emotions she didn’t want to feel rose inside her.

“Love you. G’night.”

The call ended, and Vera was left with those old feelings of loss and regret. They’d had the perfect life—the perfect family—then their mother had died, and everything had gone to hell. The only good thing to come out of that time was Luna, and somehow she and Eve had screwed that up.

Vera blinked the memories away. She had things to do here and now. There was no time for dwelling in the past and on things she could not change.

First, she was not going to hang around here waiting for something else to happen. She intended to start at the beginning and look for anything she may have missed now that she knew what she knew.

She tucked her cell phone into her pocket and grabbed a flashlight, then walked out the front door. She went straight up to the deputy that Bent had insisted keep watch over her tonight. The deputy powered the window down as she approached his cruiser. His name tag read Olson .

“Deputy Olson,” she said, “FYI, I’m going down to the barn to have a look around.”

“I’ll follow you, ma’am.”

“Suit yourself.”

She headed through the yard and around the house. She wanted to take the same route the person who’d left those tracks in the snow had taken. The tracks, she suspected, had been left on purpose. He wanted her to know he’d been here. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he had ordered that damned rare snowstorm.

But even the worst of the worst were only human.

Behind her the deputy’s footfalls echoed in the darkness. He’d pulled out a flashlight of his own and was lighting his path. Smart man. Vera’s mother had lots of flower beds and bird fountains and other yard ornaments around. If a person didn’t know the path, he could easily end up tripping in the dark.

The trail to the barn took a few minutes and went right past the potting shed and well house. Vera decided to check both before continuing to the barn. She wished she’d worn her coat. It was colder than she’d realized. Probably because she’d been far too pissed off when she came home to really notice the temperature. The idea that Elizabeth had manufactured this Time Thief business to boost her son’s career was just over the top. But it would all work out just fine in the end. Nothing ever kept a Baker down.

Then again, Vera supposed she couldn’t say much, considering she was keeping her sister’s secret about Norton Gates. At least Elizabeth hadn’t murdered anyone. Probably, Vera amended.

The well house was empty, save for the usual stuff—rakes, hoes, et cetera. Most of those yard implements had been in there for decades. No one had really done any gardening around here after her mother died. Maybe she would give it a try this spring.

Entering her mother’s potting shed was like walking into a tomb. No one besides her or Eve ever came in here. Every single thing inside was far too precious ... held too many painful memories.

Vera cast the flashlight’s beam around, as she had in the well house, until she was satisfied that nothing had been disturbed.

Then on to the barn. She shivered. Damn. She wished again that she had worn her coat. Her cell vibrated, and she dug for it. Probably Bent, or maybe Eve or Luna.

Eric.

Surprise shot through her, putting Vera on alert. “Eric, hello.”

“Vera.” He made a sound, something like a sigh. “You were going to call me back.”

Damn, she’d promised to call him back with any updates when they’d talked this morning. She’d forgotten. “We found a second message.” Her shoulders sagged. “It’s the same MO as the Messenger, but like you said ... he’s in prison.”

All those other thoughts and possibilities she’d been going over and over would have to wait. She was not up to all that tonight.

A moment of silence. Well damn. Now he was disappointed in her.

“We both know,” he said finally, “prisoners reach out from behind bars all the time. The questions are, Does he intend to do more than attempt to rattle you, and Why now?”

His words set her off. Had fury rising inside her like smoke billowing from a raging fire. She hadn’t wanted to talk about this, but now she had no choice. “If this is his doing, the only thing he did was piss me off.”

Dr. Palmer Solomon was an arrogant bastard, rightly enough. She wouldn’t be surprised at anything he did. In her opinion, the timing was the big mystery here.

“I’ll talk to the warden. Get some sense of who visits him—if anyone. And I’ll look into the possibility of him getting messages out.”

“I appreciate that, Eric.” She forced herself to calm down as she paused at the front of the barn, roved the beam of light over it. “I should go. It’s been a long day.”

“Understood. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Thanks. You’re a good friend.”

“Always.”

The call ended, and Vera shook off the old feelings of regret that always came when she interacted with Eric. Before she had the phone back in her pocket, it vibrated again.

“What now?” She shouldn’t have asked ... Remington. “Hello, Mr. Remington.” Vera glanced back at the deputy waiting a few yards away, squinted at the beam from his flashlight.

“Ms. Boyett, please tell me you have news about Nolan. I’m barely holding on to my sanity here.”

Vera tucked the flashlight under her arm and reached for the barn doors. “Well, we don’t have anything new on his whereabouts, but we’re hoping to have more soon.”

No way was she talking to him about the person they suspected had taken Nolan. She’d leave that up to Bent’s discretion. At some point there would have to be a press conference. As for what Elizabeth had done, Nolan could tell his boyfriend about that—assuming he lived through this nightmare. Then again, if the story leaked to the media, he would hear about it.

Not dealing with that tonight.

Vera walked through the doors, grabbed the light from under her arm, and shined the beam around the space.

“Just please call me as soon as you know anything at all,” Remington pleaded.

“I will. You have ...” Vera’s light hit something pale. She moved the beam over that space again.

Flesh ... human. Naked backside of a body. Dark hair.

Adrenaline charged through her. “Mr. Remington, I’ll have to call you back.” She ended the call, shoved the phone into her back pocket. “Deputy!”

Olson moved up next to her. “Holy shit,” he muttered.

“We need an ambulance, right now.”

Vera turned on the interior lights and rushed to the body on the ground.

Nolan Baker.

Fuck. Please don’t let him be dead ...

She touched his shoulder. He groaned. Thank God.

Hope fired through her. She didn’t dare move him until she had a firmer handle on his condition. She crawled around to the other side to see his face and the front of his body. His chest shuddered with an intake of breath.

“There you go. Keep breathing, Nolan,” she murmured.

There was a lot of blood. She grimaced. What she needed was to get a better look at the injuries and see if she could stop the bleeding.

God only knew how long he’d been out here. Could have been hours.

His eyes suddenly flew open, and he screamed.

Vera toppled onto her butt.

Nolan flopped onto his back and screamed bloody murder.

Vera scrambled closer once more. “Nolan, it’s Vera Boyett. We have an ambulance on the way. You’re going to be all right.”

His hands went up in a defensive move as he squirmed and thrashed in pain.

“You’ll be okay,” Vera urged.

Then he flipped onto his belly. His continued writhing had his skin parting ... blood and dirt from the barn floor moving on his skin. A gasp echoed in the air ... her gasp. She watched, her heart pounding, as his movements parted the bloody, dirty lines where his naked flesh had been carved. Words formed ...

I’m coming for you.

The bastard had left a message in Nolan’s skin. Just like with Gloria Anderson ... just like with all the others.

Vera gritted her teeth and pushed aside the feelings that tried to swarm her brain. Focus on the victim. This moment ... this part couldn’t be about analyzing the words. She did what she had to do. As much as she didn’t want to spoil any evidence, she was well versed in this bastard’s MO. The Messenger never left evidence. His minion or a copycat would likely attempt the same. She stroked Nolan’s head gently and took his hand with her free one and held it to her chest as tightly as she dared.

“You’re safe now, Nolan. We’ll get you to a hospital. Your parents will be there.”

His wailing stopped, and he started to sob.

The anger that welled inside her had her struggling for breath.

She would get this son of a bitch. One way or another.