Page 73 of Deeper Than the Dead

Washington Street, Fayetteville, 9:15 a.m.

Eve was already waiting when Vera arrived.

During the nearly two years Vera had been home after their mother died, she and Eve had met at her grave many times. It was the best place to get away from the house and have some privacy. Sometimes to cry. Sometimes just to talk. Now was one of those times.

As Vera neared the bench where Eve sat, her sister said, “I’m not sure I want to know what’s happened now.”

“Believe me, you don’t.” Vera sat down beside her on the granite bench. “Dr. Higdon has decided that maybe the cancer didn’t kill Mama.”

Eve made a “what the hell” face. “You’re kidding, right?”

“He claims he saw bruises on her throat and shoulders when he pronounced her. He thinks Daddy hastened her death to get her out of the way.”

Eve blinked, looked away for a moment before turning back to Vera. “Doesn’t he know I was the one to find her?” She scoffed. “Daddy wasn’t even home. He was at work. Suri was there with me, you remember.”

Vera nodded. How could she forget?

“Are we supposed to believe Daddy sneaked into the house, pushed Mama under the water and held her there while we weren’t looking, and then sneaked out again?”

The realization shook Vera just a little. She should have thought of exactly that, but Higdon’s ridiculous revelation had caught her completely off guard. If she hadn’t been so angry, she would have logically explained to Higdon that his suggestion about her mother’s death was impossible ... except it had been too late. As Bent said, the ME had put the idea on the table, and there was no pulling it back. No amount of logic was going to stop some sort of look into the accusation.

“You’re right. Daddy wasn’t home.” Proving it after such an extended period might be problematic. Vera tried to recall where exactly she was when her sister had started yelling for her. The remembered sound of her voice—frantic and brimming with pain—echoed in her brain. “I was in the living room on the phone with Cindy Reynolds.”

“I screamed for you, and you came running up the stairs.” Eve shook her head. “Higdon is an idiot. I swear that man needs to retire and let someone younger take on the position. He must be what, seventy-five or -six?”

“Maybe he has Mama confused with someone else who died from cancer back then.” Vera chewed her lip, tried to think of a preemptive move. “I need to see those photos from the funeral home.”

“I can get them.” Eve sat up straighter.

Hope swelled in Vera’s chest. “You can? We don’t have much time,” she reminded Eve. “Higdon is probably drafting the request as we speak. The funeral home would want his request in writing for their records. Unfortunately, if he decides to go for an exhumation, he has a judge in his pocket—his son.”

“Screw him and his full-of-himself son.” Eve pulled her cell from her back pocket. “I have my own secret weapon. Give me a minute.”

Vera listened as Eve called Suri and asked her to pull their mother’s file. While Suri searched, Eve explained the reason for the odd and abrupt request. Like Vera and Eve, Suri was horrified to hear that Higdon would suggest such a thing.

This whole situation had turned into a total nightmare. Every last detail of their lives was going to shit in a far too public way. Vera was weary of it, and the show was far from over.

Eve made a face and thanked her friend before hanging up.

“Did she find the photos?” Vera needed a copy, optimally before Higdon got his hands on them.

“There are no photos in the file.”

Vera drew back. “What? Hurst always took photos. Daddy said so when Mama died.” She exhaled a frustrated breath. Where the hell were those photos? “The funeral director asked if Daddy wanted a copy, and he said he didn’t even want to see them. It was too painful.”

“Well,” Eve countered, “they’re missing now.”

“Could Higdon have gotten over there already?”

“Suri said she was the only one there.”

“Maybe they’re just misfiled,” Vera suggested.

“It’s possible,” Eve agreed.

Damn it. Vera forced away the frustration and surveyed the cemetery. She needed to clear her head and think for a moment.

Their mother had loved this cemetery. She always participated whenever there was a cleanup or other activity. She insisted that Vera and Eve come along and help out. Now that Vera thought about it, maybe that was where Eve had gotten her fondness for the dead.

---