Page 30 of Closer Than You Know (Vera Boyett #2)

Saturday, March 8

Lincoln County Sheriff’s Department

Thornton Taylor Parkway, Fayetteville, 8:20 a.m.

Vera couldn’t really concentrate on the ongoing conference with Memphis PD. She, Eric, and Bent were in his office, crowded around the conference table. Voices floated from the phone’s speaker, but Vera couldn’t focus.

They had found no sign of Eve.

The pain of that reality stabbed deep into Vera’s belly. Her sister was missing.

Someone sent by Dr. Palmer Solomon had taken her. Fury writhed inside her like a snake shedding its skin, desperate to break free.

Bent had done everything right. He had started a search party and had the teams in the field by dawn. He had done one quick press conference urging folks to look for anything out of place ... anyone they didn’t recognize. If it wasn’t there before or had changed in some way, they were to call the sheriff’s office. A special hotline had been set up to handle the calls. Volunteers were manning the lines.

He’d contacted the sheriffs of the surrounding counties and had a BOLO out for Eve. Since they had no idea what make or model vehicle the perp was using, there was no way to include anything other than Eve’s description.

A more in-depth press conference was scheduled for nine. Bent would give what little information they had to the public. Because all indications pointed to Solomon, the story would no doubt go statewide at least. Eric had set up a call to Talbert and Alcott to bring them up to speed.

Vera and the way her career ended in Memphis would come up in the media, but she didn’t care. Let them rehash the dirty details. All that mattered right now was getting her sister back safely and stopping the piece of shit the Messenger had sent.

He’s dying. Eric’s words reverberated inside her. Running out of time above ground. Funny how facing death often made people attempt to settle unfinished business. She would think, for the sake of his son and daughter as well as his grandson, Solomon would just go out peacefully. Was stirring up his old reputation going to help his grown children who had to go on in this life? Maybe one or the other intended to publish a book, and Daddy was providing a little media boost as well as a killer ending.

Around three this morning, with Eric’s help, Vera had done a deep dive into Solomon’s offspring. Pamela Solomon Hamilton divorced her one and only husband after only a few months of marriage just last year. She had one adult son named Patrick. Pamela lived in London. She’d kept an almost invisible profile since the arrest of her father. No social media accounts or interaction at all. Her son had been only seventeen at the time of the arrest. Based on her age when the boy was born and the fact that his last name was Solomon as well, he had been a surprise, and she hadn’t married or acknowledged his father. Whatever the case, the kid had gone on to do well. He had finished medical school at Vanderbilt University and was currently in his final year of a residency at the Vanderbilt University Medical Center. His academic profile was outstanding. Although he had social media accounts on the most popular platforms, he did little interacting. A social media prowler, she imagined. One who only liked to scroll.

Christopher Solomon had pretty much carried on with his life after the sentencing of his father. He had never married. He was forty-six. Had no children. A mediocre career in real estate. His business had floundered for a while after his father’s arrest, but he appeared to be back on his feet now. No social media profiles. His private life was vague at best. She supposed being the son of a notorious serial killer wasn’t the best way to win friends and develop influence.

Nothing remarkable about the history of Solomon’s offspring before or since his arrest had jumped out at her.

Eric had called both Christopher and Pamela and left voicemails. Both deserved a warning about what was coming. Daddy was up to no good again.

Vera had no sympathy for either of them. Christopher had spoken to her outside the courtroom after his father was sentenced. Blaming her for what happened. Pamela hadn’t bothered with an appearance, but her son was there.

You did this to him, Christopher had insisted, his nephew at his side.

She supposed loyalty for one’s father and grandfather was appropriate. No matter that Dr. Palmer Solomon had murdered ten women. Then again, Eve had certainly protected their father all those years. And Vera had protected Eve.

But it wasn’t the same. Their father hadn’t been a murderer. Eve wasn’t a murderer. Not even remotely in the way Solomon was.

Vera closed her eyes. Please, please let her be okay.

“Any additional thoughts, Vera?”

She blinked. The voice that had asked the question belonged to her former boss, William Talbert.

Scrambling to reorient herself, she looked to Bent and then Eric. Both were watching her, their faces showing worry and a hint of sympathy—neither of which she appreciated. What she needed was to be out there looking for the son of a bitch who had taken her sister.

“Vera has made it clear,” Bent said, when she failed to find a response in a timely manner, “how she feels about the subject. Whoever this is, Solomon is involved.”

She gave him a subtle nod. “We’re all aware,” she began, “there was no evidence to support the theory that Solomon had a partner back when we finally caught him. Given what’s happened, we have to take a harder look at that possibility, as well as the possibility that this is a new protégé—a surrogate. Either way, the perp we’re dealing with is following the technique far too precisely for this to be coincidence or even a mere copycat.”

“There’s no guarantee,” Will spoke up, “that someone involved with the investigation didn’t leak the details you’re seeing. We all recognize such things happen even in the best departments.”

This was true. Before she could argue the point, Eric jumped in. “If that was the case, why was it never in the news? I’m sure there were plenty of reporters itching to get the hidden details for a big story. Based on that, we must assume those details were never leaked and that neither Gloria Anderson nor Solomon ever provided those details to anyone until now—otherwise we would surely have heard about them before.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Will admitted. “I can’t deny that I’m still hoping this is unrelated and we haven’t allowed Solomon to reach beyond the bars. Or, worse, left a killer’s apprentice in the wild.”

“Exactly,” Vera muttered. But then that wouldn’t explain the bastard’s obsession with her unless he was being guided by Solomon himself. “Eric mentioned that he’s had no visitors besides his son.”

“That’s correct,” Will confirmed. “No visitors. All correspondence is reviewed, so we can say with certainty there has been no discussion or preparation related to anything like this via the official mail.”

“Nothing at all from his daughter?” Vera would have thought the woman would at least write to him after she learned of his diagnosis. Then again, how did you forgive someone or even look past a decade-long trail of murders?

“Nothing,” Will confirmed.

“For the sake of full disclosure,” Special Agent Alcott said, “I have personally reviewed everything we dug up last time about Solomon. I interviewed his son, Christopher, yesterday afternoon by phone in hopes of gaining any of his insights. He has not seen or spoken to his father since Christmas, when he was told about the cancer diagnosis. He insists his father told him not to return and would refuse to see him if he did. To that end, he claims he’s had no further contact of any sort. I also called his sister, but Pamela isn’t taking my calls.”

Vera had only spoken to the son on one occasion beyond that day at the sentencing, and he had been the one doing all the talking. He had seemed shocked by the investigation and in deep denial about his father’s guilt. He’d given every indication that he was wholly unaware of his father’s secret criminal activities. The daughter had stated the same in a private interview with the feds. Her son had been a part of that interview, and he had claimed to know nothing either.

Nearly thirteen years later there really was only one reasonable explanation for what was happening. Palmer Solomon—the Messenger—had himself a puppet, whether from before or new to the game ... someone who was willing to do his bidding.

Alcott went on, “I’m sending two agents who worked the original case to support your efforts.”

And just like before, they would find nothing. This Vera kept to herself. Her fear and anger were making for a bad combination. Had her wanting to lash out.

“We’re grateful for the support,” Bent told him.

“Jones,” Will said, “stay as long as you need to. Give Sheriff Benton whatever help he requires.”

“Will do, sir.”

“Vera,” Alcott said, speaking again, “I’m guessing that you’ve decided against visiting Solomon in light of what’s happened with your sister.”

Bent looked from her to Eric. Vera realized then that she’d failed to share this information with Bent. They’d been a little busy, and then Suri had called about Eve.

“Agent Alcott tried to visit Solomon again last evening,” Eric explained. “He will only speak to Vera and claims to have a message for her.”

“I’m considering it,” Vera answered, ignoring the look Bent pointed in her direction. “I wasn’t aware of Solomon’s request until last night, and then my sister was taken, so I’ve had no time to evaluate the merit in either option.” She hadn’t been able to think of anything else except Eve.

But she hadn’t forgotten the invitation.

The call dragged on for a few more minutes before Bent put everyone out of their respective misery and ended it.

“If,” Eric said as he pushed to his feet, “you have no different directions for me, I’d like to check in with the search commanders.” He turned his hands up. “I don’t need to be here for the press conference. That’s your platform, not mine. I’m here to help you, not take the podium.”

Vera recognized what she had to do. But no one in the room was going to like it.

“I’ll hook you up with my second-in-command. He’ll see that you get wherever and whatever you need.” Bent looked to her. “Vee, I don’t want you out of my sight.” He hitched his head toward Eric. “Or Eric’s. I don’t care what this bastard Solomon wants. You need to be where one of us can see you at all times.”

She appreciated the gesture. Really she did, but his edict was personal. It was about her safety—not about the best way to handle Solomon’s request. “Well.” She grabbed her phone and stood. “In that case, one of you better be ready to move, because I have things to do.”

Vera knew better than to tell either of the two what she had in mind now that the fog of fear and worry about her sister was thinning enough for her to think clearly. She headed out of the office, and as it turned out, it wasn’t necessary to tell them anyway. They both followed her toward the front exit of the building.

“Vee,” Bent warned.

She imagined he had figured out what she intended to do. So she ignored him.

“Vera,” Eric echoed, “slow down a—”

She pushed out the door and walked into the sunlight. It was a chilly morning, but the sun was giving its all. No less than a couple dozen reporters stood by for the scheduled press conference that was mere minutes away.

Vera walked directly into the crowd that instantly surged forward. Right up front was Patricia Patton. Vera barely restrained the need to roll her eyes.

“I have a preconference sound bite for you,” she announced. She didn’t have to look back to know both Bent and Eric had stalled and were now watching her and hoping she wouldn’t say anything one or both would regret.

“You may have heard,” Vera said, “that my sister Eve has been abducted.” Hurt swelled so fast inside her that she couldn’t speak for a moment. “We all know this is no longer about the Time Thief . You’ll hear more about the person we feel is responsible in a few minutes. But right now, I want to send a message to that person.”

Eyes and cameras zeroed in on her face. Recording devices extended toward her. Vera ignored all of it and focused on what she had to say. The message was simple and direct.

“I know why you’re here,” she said. Then she smiled. “It’s not my sister you want ... it’s me. So let’s make this easy. You let her go, and I’ll take her place. You know where to find me.”

She turned away, ignoring the barrage of questions thrown at her like bullets in a shoot-out. Bent and Eric followed her back through the front entrance, away from the crowd she’d riled up.

“Do you really think that was smart or beneficial?” Eric asked. He looked disappointed in her.

Bent, on the other hand, looked fighting mad. “She knows it wasn’t smart. She’s trying to force a reaction.” He glared at her.

Ah, Bent knew her well. Didn’t matter. She no longer cared what anyone thought. This was about finding Eve before that piece of shit did something Vera couldn’t fix.

She looked from one man to the other. “I’m ready to go to Nashville to see Solomon.”

“No way,” Bent said flat out. “I’m putting you in protective custody.”

“Like hell you are,” Vera fired back. “You’re not thinking like a sheriff, Bent.” She didn’t have to say the rest. He knew exactly what she meant.

“Just hold on a minute.” Eric held up both hands. “She’s right. He’s refusing to talk to anyone except Vera. It’s possible if she gives him the attention he wants, he’ll back his guy down. We have nothing to lose but a few hours’ time by giving it a try.”

Bent was not the easiest guy to make angry. He generally took everything in stride. She supposed he’d learned that kind of patience and restraint after all those years of having his father beat the hell out of him. His mother had died when he was just a little kid and wasn’t there to protect him. Then there was his time in the military. But despite all that, she, apparently, had the power to rile him up ... to scramble his focus, because he was thoroughly pissed right now.

“If she goes,” Bent said to Eric, “you go with her. I’ll take care of things here.” Then he pointed that weighty glare at Vera once more. “I do not want her going anywhere—particularly that prison—alone.”

Vera didn’t argue. She could live with his terms. “I want to go now,” she said to Eric. “Right now.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

“Bring your car around back,” Bent suggested. “You can get away while I start the press conference. We don’t need anyone following you. There’s a side entrance to the parking lot at the end of the corridor past my office.”

Eric headed in that direction.

Bent’s blue eyes, still fiery with anger, settled on her. “You do what you think you need to do, Vee, but don’t do anything else as careless as what you just did.”

“We can wait for his next move,” she argued, exhaustion pulling at her now, “or we can make the next move. It’s that simple, Bent.”

She wasn’t going to apologize for taking the necessary steps to prompt a reaction. Of all the people who had worked the Messenger investigation, she knew Solomon on a sort of intimate level the best.

He or his surrogate wanted a reaction from her, so she’d given it to him.

Now it was his turn.

All she had to do was give him the right opportunity. But first she had to see the bastard who’d started this thing.

It was always better to take some measure of what you were up against.