Page 20 of Closer Than You Know

“Well.” Elizabeth took another sip of her tea, reminding Vera that she hadn’t touched her own. “It was likely because Carl and I were absolutely enthralled by the investigation. I think everyone in town who knew you or your family was captivated. You were one of us, and suddenly you were this big hero.” Though her eyes remained red and puffy, the tears had dried, and she even managed a decent smile.

“Well, thank you.” Vera focused on removing the tea bag from her cup and properly tucking it on the saucer as Elizabeth had. She downed a gulp of the hot liquid, let the burn recenter her, then cleared her throat. “It was a ... strange time.”

She almost winced.Strange time? Was that the best she could come up with?

Christ.

“Anyway,” her hostess went on, “your media success was Nolan’s inspiration. I think he’s followed you ever since. I know Carl and I have.”

More tea slid down Vera’s throat. The taste wasn’t so bad, but primarily Vera needed to do anything to make the dryness go away.

“Anyway.” Elizabeth waved a hand in the air, as if erasing the most recent part of the conversation. “I’m sure you’re aware what a celebrity you are around here. Your incredible ability is the reason I knew we needed you to find him.” That shine was back in her eyes, and she seemed to need a moment before she could go on.

Vera cleared her throat, but the thickening sensation and the dryness lingered. “I imagine Nolan has been captivated by the Time Thief as well.”

Elizabeth stared into her cup. “Sadly, yes. He’s been utterly focused on the case. You may or may not read the paper, but he’s written pieces on every abduction. Interviewed the victims at length.” She squeezed her eyes shut, as if hoping to hold back the tide.

Vera had known about Nolan’s articles. Though she didn’t spend a lot of time watching or reading the news—not since the tragedy in Memphis—Bent had brought her up to speed. He’d mentioned Nolan’s close following of the ongoing investigation once or twice over the past few weeks.

For several seconds Elizabeth said nothing. Vera wondered if she was waiting for her to respond to that last comment. In her experience it was better to delay and see what the other person said next. No one liked the spans of silence during a conversation ... especially if thatperson was leaving out pertinent details related to the conversation. In this case, the pause might very well be emotionally driven.

“I’ve been asking myself all morning,” Elizabeth went on, as Vera had known she would, “if he somehow veered too close.” Her gaze lifted to Vera’s. “Nolan firmly believes the person behind these abductions is someone local.”

No question. “Did he ever mention any names? Maybe someone he spoke with more than once?”

“Just one.” Elizabeth shivered visibly.

Vera’s instincts sharpened. Her fingers tightened on the delicate handle of the teacup. She forced her hand to relax rather than risk breaking it.

“You may or may not remember him, but he was in my class.” Elizabeth flattened her palms on the cool marble. “Fisher Owens. He was one of those guys who spent all his time totally zoned out on one drug or the other. Most recently I heard he was into crystal meth.”

Vera did remember him ... vaguely. Bent hadn’t mentioned him, and the guy’s name and face hadn’t been on the case board. “What made Nolan suspect Owens was involved?”

“The few people who associate with Fisher know he has this bizarre fixation on extraterrestrials. He talked about it even back in high school. Evidently he still does—ad nauseam. Nolan felt he fit the profile for the person behind these incidents.”

Ah, yes. Another armchair detective. The endless parade of crime shows over the years had far too many people believing they could profile perps as well as the cops could. This affliction was particularly prominent in reporters—ones exactly like Patricia Patton, who believed she knew more than the police or anyone else.

Vera kicked the woman out of her head. Patton was just another of her bad memories from Memphis. Like a buzzard, she showed up circling wherever she smelled potential trouble.

“Did he give you any other specifics on why he believed Owens was the one?” Vera felt confident there was nothing to the scenario, but shenever allowed her personal feelings to get in the way of an investigation. Well, most of the time, anyway. There had been a failure or two in her time. Then again, considering her hostess, this could be one of them.

“He said Fisher had newspaper clippings and notes about the victims all over his wall in that shack where he lives. He told Bent.” She shook her head, looked heavenward. “Bent is a good sheriff, but sometimes he can be ...” She sighed. “Well, you know.”

Vera knew exactly what she meant. Sometimes Bent didn’t do a good job of covering how little tolerance he had for people like Elizabeth and, no doubt, her son. Still, once Vera pushed past defending him, she did wonder why he hadn’t mentioned Owens. And why the guy’s photo hadn’t been on his board.

“You have Fisher’s address?”

Elizabeth spouted it off as if she frequented the place.

“Since I’m working with Bent on this one, I will follow up on it.” Vera stood, forced a smile into place. “Thank you for the tea.”

Elizabeth reached across the island and clutched Vera’s hand. “Find my son, Vera Mae. Please. This was not supposed to happen. He—” Her eyes rounded with something like surprise or shock. She blinked. “He ... he has this bright future, and I can’t bear the thought of losing him.”

Vera promised she would do all in her power, then made her exit. All the way to her SUV, she kept wondering what Elizabeth had almost let slip.

Once she was on the street headed away from the Baker home, she pulled over in the parking lot of the Whiskey Creek Grille. She put the address into her GPS to confirm the directions. She hadn’t lived in Fayetteville in a very long time until a few months ago. She was still finding her way around, to some degree. A check of her cell showed Bent had returned her call. If she told him her plan, he would demand to go with her.

If Fisher Owens was a tweaker, chances were he wouldn’t be very forthcoming with the sheriff around. Vera would unquestionably have better luck alone.

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