Page 34 of Closer Than You Know (Vera Boyett #2)

Sunday, March 9

Boyett Farm

Good Hollow Road, Fayetteville, 6:30 a.m.

Vera pulled a hoodie over her tee. She was ready to go. The question was, Where?

She’d spent hours last night trying to figure out the moves Patrick Solomon would make. Bent had said he’d wanted to take a nap, but she’d heard him on the phone at least a dozen times last night, checking in with his deputies and, at least twice, with Eric. He hadn’t taken a damned nap. He’d only wanted an excuse to hang around in her house.

Finally, when he was on the phone yet again, she’d come up to her room and closed the door. She’d eventually fallen asleep still puzzling over the possibilities. Waking up this morning on top of the covers, still wearing yesterday’s clothes, and without having brushed her teeth had sucked.

She reached for her sneakers. Eve would be wearing the same clothes as the night before last. And she hadn’t been able to brush her teeth either. An ache deep in Vera’s chest made tears sting her eyes. If her sister was still breathing, she didn’t care what clothes she wore or how her breath smelled.

“Just let her be alive,” Vera murmured.

Nothing else ... not even those damned photos ... mattered right now.

She tugged on her sneakers and tied the laces. She didn’t know what time Bent had left last night—if he had—or if he’d come up to her room and found her asleep first. He would have woken her if he’d learned anything new. Same went for this morning. No calls meant nothing new. Disappointment felt like a pile of rocks on her chest.

Then again ... she stilled. Maybe this was not entirely bad. If past experience with the Messenger MO held true, no news was good news. Once he was finished with a victim, he left her where she was easily found. Eve hadn’t been found, so there was still hope.

Her cell vibrated with an incoming text message.

Probably Bent or Eric wanting to know if she was up yet.

Unknown number.

Anticipation roared through her like a freight train rushing out of a tunnel. Had to be Palmer Solomon.

Happy birthday, Vera.

Anger twisted her lips into a sneer. Who cared? Before she could type a response, another message appeared.

He’s waiting for you on a hilltop surrounded by woods and pastures and goats. Be there at nine. Alone.

Hope surged through her. But dwindled just as quickly. What the hell? That could be anywhere around Lincoln County! There were all kinds of hills and endless pastures, fields, and woods. Lots of people had goats! Damn it! She squeezed her eyes shut a moment, ordered herself to calm. Proceeding carefully here was extremely important. She couldn’t risk making him angry or putting him off in any way. Deep breath. She chose her words carefully as she typed a response.

I’m not sure I can find the location in time. Any other details?

Vera held her breath and waited.

Wind chimes. The sound is driving him mad.

Wind chimes? Her mind rushed in a dozen directions. Where the hell could that be?

She sent a reply. Let me know if you hear anything more from him ... I need more.

The ellipsis that told her he was typing appeared. Then, his message: Be careful, Vera. If you choose not to go alone there will be consequences.

Her lips tightened to hold back a string of curses. And there it was. The warning that she should go alone—assuming she figured out the location in time. It would be nice to believe dear old dying Dr. Solomon was not playing games this time, but he was. She got that. He might not want his grandson to continue killing, but he didn’t want him jailed or killed either. And it was obvious he was enjoying this game with Vera.

“Bastard.” She called Eric—only because his resources would be quicker.

“Vera, you okay this morning? We’ve been going all night and—”

“Is Bent with you?” She didn’t need to hear him say they still had nothing despite hours of effort.

“No. I haven’t seen him this morning. I’m at the command center. We’re set up in the department’s conference room.”

“I need you to call Alcott’s guy in Nashville. Tell him Palmer Solomon has contacted me via a cell phone this morning. If there’s any chance his grandson has been in touch with him using that same phone ...”

“Then we might be able to pinpoint his location,” Eric finished for her. “What did Solomon tell you?”

“There’s no time,” she urged. “Make the call. We’ll go over the rest when I get to the command center.”

“I’ll call him now.”

“Eric, if Solomon learns the agent is coming, he’ll send his grandson a warning, and then it’s game over.” The mere thought of what that would trigger crushed against her rib cage.

“Got it.”

“Thanks. I’ll be there soon.”

“Hey,” he said, waylaying her, “happy birthday.”

“Yeah.” She ended the call. This was the most god-awful birthday of her life.

Okay, focus, Vee.

If the worst happened and she didn’t survive this, she hated the possibility of her last words to Eric being a lie, but it was the only way to ensure he didn’t grow suspicious too soon.

As much as she wanted to figure this out on her own, she wasn’t a fool. Whatever she did, there was a chance she might not make it—that Eve might not make it—but she intended to ensure they both had the best opportunity possible. For that, she needed Bent.

She walked out of her room, at the same time putting a call through to him.

Halfway down the stairs she heard his phone ring, and it wasn’t just via her phone either.

Bent was here.

She followed the sound to the kitchen. He’d just reached for his cell on the island when she appeared at the door. She ended the call.

“Morning.” He lifted his mug. “Coffee’s ready.”

“Morning.” She crossed the room, poured herself a mugful, thankful that steam still rose from the dark liquid. She had to stay cool, convince him she was good to go for what had to be done. “How long have you been here?”

He leaned against the counter. “I was on the phone so late, getting final reports from my team, I ended up crashing on your couch. I hope you don’t mind.”

He was well aware she didn’t mind. “We both know you had no intention of leaving.” She sipped her coffee.

“What can I say? Protecting the citizens of this county is my job.”

“Any news from the team?” She opted not to mention talking to Eric. It wasn’t like he’d given her an update. She hadn’t given him time.

“Nothing on Eve’s location.” He set his mug aside. “No reports about suspicious activity or sightings. What we do have is a missing deputy.”

Dread welled inside her. “When was the last time he was heard from?”

“Just before dark last night. He was using his private vehicle, and we haven’t found it. His fiancée hasn’t heard from him. All attempts to reach him have gone unanswered.”

“Damn.” Vera forced down more of the coffee. She needed the caffeine. When she’d finished it off, she placed her cup in the sink. “That could mean the grandson has access to a radio—assuming he is the reason the deputy is missing and that the deputy was carrying a radio.” She turned to look Bent in the eyes. “If that’s the case, he will know every move we make unless the team goes to a private channel.”

This news complicated things.

“The deputy did have a radio, and I have already directed the team to go to a private channel,” Bent confirmed.

Of course he had. He was a good sheriff. Bent was no rookie and definitely no fool.

“By the way,” he said, his eyes searching hers for whatever she was leaving out, “happy birthday.”

She waved off the birthday crap. Time to come clean. “I heard from Palmer Solomon a few minutes ago.”

A frown furrowed Bent’s face. “How?”

“When I visited him, I gave him my cell number. He promised to let me know if he heard from his grandson.”

Keeping whatever he felt about the news to himself, Bent asked, “What did he have to say?”

Vera was grateful he chose not to rant at her about what she’d done. “Patrick told him—or so the story goes—that he was on a hillside surrounded by pastures and woods. And goats.” She huffed a breath. “That could be anywhere in the damned county. But he wants me there—alone—at nine a.m.”

“And you’re only sharing this with me because you can’t figure out the location yourself.”

She could deny the charge, but why bother. “Probably.”

He stared at the floor a moment, then, “Anything else about the location?”

“Wind chimes. Solomon said the sound was driving him mad, so I’m assuming that means a lot of loud wind chimes. Not just some little rinky-dink cheap ones that tinkle.”

Bent nodded, the distant expression on his face telling her that he was mentally playing back memories of the sights and sounds around the county.

She had done the same. But she’d only been back home for seven months. There was a lot she hadn’t seen yet. Twenty-one years was a long time to be gone. She’d forgotten far more than she remembered ... except Bent. Her face flushed. Not the time. Damn it.

“The Carter goat farm,” he said, still obviously in deep consideration.

“I don’t know the name.” Hope stirred because he recognized the location.

“Over on Coldwater Creek Road,” he said as he pulled out his cell phone. “Old man Carter—Deke Carter. His farm is high on a hill off Coldwater Creek. He and his wife started raising goats years ago when cattle got to be too much for them.”

Vera put her hand on his when he would have made a call. “How old are we talking?”

“I’d say mid- to late eighties. Mrs. Carter passed last year, so it’s just him. I got the call when his wife died. When I arrived, the ambulance was already there. And I remember there were wind chimes on the wraparound porch, all around the house. Carter said his wife had loved them.”

Adrenaline charged through Vera. “Then that’s the place.” At least as long as the bastard in that prison hadn’t lied to her.

“We need to get a team moving,” Bent said.

She held on to his hand—again delaying any call. “If he figures out I’m bringing the cavalry, he’ll kill Eve.”

Bent’s head was already moving side to side before she finished talking. “You are not going in alone.”

“No.” She released his hand, held up both hers in a wait gesture. “We assemble a group of trusted deputies and have them cover any potential avenues of escape around the farm.”

“The property is thickly wooded along one side of the hill it sits on.” His forehead furrowed deeply. “The other side is open pastureland sloping downward. I can have the team surround the base of the hill. Staying clear of the open areas.”

“With that missing deputy,” she said, realizing the potential misstep, “I’m thinking now that if we go radio silent, he’ll know something is up. He has to believe your search is ongoing and we have no new tips.”

“I’m aware of how this is done, Vee,” he said, his expression hard. “I have certain members staying on the open channel and tossing out questions and comments from time to time. My only question is how do you factor into the plan?”

Well, he’d certainly told her. Furthermore, he wouldn’t like this part, but that was too bad. “I’ll go in. Just drive my SUV up to the house as he’s requested. You can be close behind in the tree line. It’s the only way we can hope for Eve’s survival. The man has nothing to lose, Bent. What’s one more dead body?”

“Two,” he fired back at her, “if he gets you in there.”

She took a breath, forced back her emotions. “Like you, I know how to do this, Bent. I’m good at it. Let me go in and make him think he’s getting what he came for.” She gave a knowing gesture. “If anyone is going to die today, it’ll be him.”

Five, then ten seconds ticked off. “I’m not saying it’s a good plan,” he finally admitted. “But it could work.”

Relief flooded her. “Thank you.”

He didn’t look fully convinced, but he hadn’t said no.

“I’ll have deputies covering the most likely egress routes,” he told her. “But I’m going all the way up the wooded side. Once I’m in place, you can drive up alone.”

Vera wasn’t so sure having him that close was a good idea, but it could work if they were careful. “Can you be certain Mr. Carter doesn’t have any sort of alarm or those field cams for watching his animals?”

A lot of folks around the area had them. It was the best way to catch poachers and to determine what sort of predators were snatching from a herd. The cameras could be bought just about anywhere.

“No,” he admitted, worry creasing his brow again. “But I don’t recall seeing a keypad for an alarm system near the front door. I didn’t see a computer or laptop. Nothing like that. The man didn’t even have a cell phone. He still used a landline.”

That news gave her hope. If he didn’t use a cell phone or any other electronic device like an iPad or laptop, he likely didn’t have field cameras. “What about dogs? Do you remember seeing any dogs?”

A nod this time. “He has dogs. Great Pyrenees. Two that I recall, but they’ll be in the pastures on the other side of the hill with the goats.”

Damn. Risky at the very least. “If a deputy gets too close, the dogs will be his alarm.”

His expression turned to stone. “If—and I do mean if —we’re going to do this your way, you will let me handle the logistics outside the house.”

“Fine. Let’s get it done.” Every minute wasted was another that Eve’s life was in danger. Vera didn’t want to consider when she’d last had a drink of water or eaten ... please, please let her be okay.

The preparations were fast ... faster than Vera could have hoped for. The owner of the last farm on the left of Molino where it ended at Coldwater Creek was more than happy to allow his place to be used as a staging area for the operation.

Vera called Luna and warned her not to leave the house or to talk to anyone she didn’t know until this was done. Two deputies were assigned to keep her safe, and her husband was there, so Vera felt reasonably confident the bastard wouldn’t try to get to Luna. No matter, Luna cried. She was worried about Eve and Vera. Vera assured her as best she could. She promised to do all in her power to get Eve and herself through this safely.

Vera went upstairs while Bent finished arranging the team. There were small preparations she needed to make as well.

In the bathroom she gathered a couple of potentially useful items. Her mother’s metal fingernail file. Six inches long and pointy on the end. Could make a decent close-contact weapon. She slid it into the sock on her right foot—on the inside next to her ankle.

Then she dug around until she found her father’s old straight razor. He’d stopped using it ages ago because the rivets that held the blade to the handle had broken and come loose, leaving the razor in two pieces. The razor had been passed down from his father, and he’d used it for as long as Vera could remember. He’d always kept it nice and sharp. Her mama had hated it. She was glad when it finally gave out and he had to stop using it.

Vera tucked the blade portion into her left sock, again on the inside next to her ankle. If her feet were bound together, the weapons were less likely to be noticed by the person doing the binding. Then she returned to her bedroom and retrieved the small handgun she kept in its original wood case. She’d used her department-issued firearm for so long back in Memphis that she’d all but forgotten about her personal weapon. When her household goods had arrived here after the sale of her Memphis condo, she had discovered lots of things—including the handgun—she hadn’t thought of in years. She had cleaned it and tucked it, case and all, into her bedside table.

She hadn’t really expected to ever use it.

Until now.