Chapter 21
Boyett Farm
Good Hollow Road
Vera watched Nolan drive away. As much as she appreciated the lift, she was glad that trip was over.
She was feeling much better now. Since it had been more than twenty-four hours and she was markedly improved, she intended to drive herself to wherever Bent was and catch up on the investigation. Driving around her small hometown was vastly different from driving in Music City.
Before taking off she grabbed a bottle of water and her key fob. She would be okay as long as she drove slowly.
Once she was out of her driveway and onto the road, she relaxed a little. She hoped no one appeared in her rearview mirror. Passing was difficult on this curvy road, and she wasn’t about to drive any faster. She didn’t completely trust her reflexes not to fail her.
Her cell vibrated on the console, and she let it go to the car speaker. Eve.
Dread instantly congealed in her belly. “Eve, what’s up?”
“I heard Geneva hired herself a lawyer.”
Frustration immediately replaced all Vera’s other emotions. “How did you hear that? Have you spoken to Bent?” Surely he would have called.
“No. Cynthia Roland from over at the Hayworth Law Firm told me. You might not remember her. We went to high school together.”
Vera’s eyebrows lifted as she turned onto Old Elkton Pike. “Geneva hired Hayworth?”
“She did. Cynthia couldn’t tell me anything else, of course, but she wanted to warn me since the case involved Luna.”
It was moments like this that reminded Vera why she’d run off and joined the circus in the big city of Memphis. “Well I guess dear old Geneva believes she needs legal representation.” Bitch.
“Guess so.”
“You didn’t tell Luna, did you?”
“No. I haven’t talked to her since I left her house this morning.”
“Okay. Don’t mention it until we have no choice. I’m running down Bent now to see if there’s anything new on either investigation.”
“Something else,” Eve said, waylaying Vera’s plan to end the call.
“What’s that? Something good, I hope.” She’d heard just about enough bad news.
“I don’t know that it’s good, but it’s interesting. Last night I overheard Mrs. Ingle say that Geneva had spent most of her life chasing someone else’s husband.”
Vera braked too hard for the stop at the Highway 64 intersection. “Please tell me you are not talking about our dead art teacher?” Eve liked talking to her visitors, but when they started talking back . . .
“Her daughter,” Eve groused. “She and two other ladies were talking about Jackie’s death. The subject of Jackie’s sister came up, and I heard Mrs. Ingle, the daughter, say Geneva was nothing but a trollop.”
“Do you think that’s true or just gossip?” Not that the woman’s sex life had anything to do with her ability or qualifications to push for a police investigation. At best this sort of thing might make her an unreliable witness—assuming it wasn’t just gossip.
But then, that was all Geneva Fanning was, wasn’t it? A witness via secondhand information. She hadn’t seen one damned thing with her own eyes. The rumors—if true—would certainly add to the uncertainty of her “good” word.
Vera smiled. Good to know.
“I don’t know for sure,” Eve said, “but it sounded like a long-running behavior.”
“I’ll look into it. Thanks, Eve.”
“FYI, Jerome is coming home tonight as long as his father continues to remain stable, and he’ll go back tomorrow. So Luna will be good for tonight.”
As long as Geneva hadn’t spent the day filling Jerome’s head full of lies and innuendos, Luna would likely be thankful to have him home.
“I’ll catch up with her today and make sure she’s okay,” Vera promised. Luna needed all the moral support she could get right now.
“All right. Talk to you later.”
The call ended, and Vera turned onto Washington Street.
Damn. She needed to go by the hardware store. Her continued avoidance of following up on that damned receipt just showed how worried she was that it would prove Luna had done something . . . bad.
Impossible. Vera shook her head, and thankfully it only hurt a little.
Luna didn’t do bad things.
As Vera stopped at the four-way of Washington and Franklin, her gaze settled on the historic house-turned-apartments where Erwin lived and now managed her own tenants.
On second thought, Vera made a left instead of going straight and heading for Bent’s office.
Maybe Erwin had new tenants since she had taken over the building.
Tenants meant neighbors. Just maybe those neighbors would have things to say about her.
Rumors. Hearsay. Probably. But it wouldn’t hurt to stir that pot.
Maybe the idea that she was questioning neighbors would make Erwin nervous.
The fastest way to a mistake was to get nervous.
Vera parked and climbed out of her vehicle.
She followed the sidewalk around to the front entrance.
There was no locked door that required being buzzed in, so she walked right on inside.
A door on each side of the entry area provided access to the two downstairs apartments, Vera presumed.
A narrow staircase led up to the same on the second level.
With no clue which one was Erwin’s, she knocked on the door to her right.
A few knocks later, and it was clear there was no one home, or at least no one interested in answering the door.
She moved to the one across the hall. The sound of children on the other side of the door gave Vera hope that someone was home.
She knocked. A female voice inside urged the kids to be quiet.
Then the lock turned, and the door opened.
Young woman, mid- to late twenties maybe.
Deep mahogany skin and even darker hair and eyes.
“Yes?”
Vera stretched out her hand. “I’m Vera Boyett with the Lincoln County Sheriff’s Department. I have a few questions for you, if you have a moment.”
The woman blinked, ignored Vera’s hand and glanced upward toward the second-story landing. Vera instantly knew that was where Erwin lived.
“Can we talk right here? I don’t want my children to hear any of this.”
“Of course. Wherever you’re most comfortable.”
“Just a moment.” The woman ducked back inside and ordered her children to sit and be quiet, or she’d turn off the television. Then she stepped into the corridor once more, closing the door behind her. She met Vera’s gaze. “What has he done this time?”
Oh damn. “I’m sorry?”
“My brother. Is he in trouble again?”
“Oh no. It’s not what you obviously think. I’m here about Valeri Erwin.”
“What about her?” Again she glanced up to the second-story landing.
“First, may I have your name?”
The woman seemed to melt into the door behind her in an effort to put distance between her and whatever uncertainty had appeared on her doorstep. “Is that necessary?”
“Actually no. It’s fine. We can keep it off the record.” Vera held up her hands palms out and shook them side to side in hopes of allaying her fears. “I just wanted to confirm that Ms. Erwin was home last weekend. Monday afternoon and evening in particular.”
The camera from a Ring doorbell belonging to a neighbor across the street had confirmed that Erwin’s car was home during that time period, and there was no visual of her leaving via the front door. Still, it was important to confirm—if possible—with the folks who lived closest to her.
“As far as I know.” Her brow lined as if she was digging deep for the memories. “My youngest was sick with a stomach bug, so I was here the whole holiday weekend. I didn’t leave the apartment at all. I heard her moving around up there, so I think she must have been home.”
Maybe Vera’s other top suspect did have an alibi. “Did you hear any voices? I mean, how soundproof are the walls?”
“With the cartoons my kids watch, I never hear anything but that stuff. I only heard the movements I mentioned while they were sleeping.” She nodded toward the door across the hall.
“You might ask him. Sam Scott. He’s not home now.
He teaches at Motlow College, the Fayetteville Campus just outside town.
But with no kids, he’s more likely to hear any conversations.
When I heard the moving around, there was no conversation.
I can’t tell you what time because the whole weekend ran together in one long nightmare of cleaning up puke. ”
Vera nodded her understanding. “Thanks. I appreciate your time.”
The woman who didn’t want to give her name hurried back into her apartment, closed and locked the door.
Vera turned for the exit, but a sound upstairs drew her attention to the landing.
The door on the right cracked open, but no one came out.
She started to call Erwin’s name, assuming it was her, but her cell in her pocket vibrated.
Vera checked the screen. Luna. When Vera looked up once more, the door was closed.
Why would Erwin avoid her? The woman generally went out of her way to say hello. Maybe she was not in the mood today.
Vera exited the building and headed toward her SUV. The little blue car Erwin drove wasn’t parked anywhere along the block. So maybe she wasn’t home. Maybe she had a roommate. Vera brushed off the questions and took her sister’s call. “Hey, Luna. Everything okay?”
“You need to come to the library right now, Vee. Right this second. Geneva is here.”