Chapter Twelve
Thursday, June 5, 11 A.M.
Greer hadn’t planned to visit the cemetery today. In fact it was the last thing she’d have pictured last night when she’d fallen into bed exhausted. The party had been a success. She’d survived the curious looks and some not-so-polite questions. It hadn’t been fun but it wasn’t as awful as she’d imagined it to be when Dr. Stewart had first floated the idea.
She’d gone to bed feeling hopeful.
And then she’d had the dream. Though it had lasted seconds, it had shadowed her entire morning and left her unable to concentrate.
So after she’d driven into the fields this morning and inspected the vines, she’d told herself she needed to run into town for supplies. The vineyard always needed something, but as she approached the exit for the dry goods store she’d passed it by and kept driving north. Without much thought, she’d found herself driving through the thick iron gates of Longwood Cemetery and up the hill to her brother’s plot.
Greer eased out of the car and, keys in hand, walked the ten yards over the grass lawn to the headstone belonging to Jeff.
The iron urn in front of the white marble headstone was filled with fresh white roses. Judging by their freshness and the day’s growing heat, the flowers must have been placed here within the last hour or so. Her thoughts shifted immediately to her mother, who loved white roses.
Greer knelt in front of the grave. “I’m sorry it’s been so long. Life’s been pretty crazy. I’m still at the vineyard and still trying to grow the best grapes in Texas.”
She touched a blossom, perfect and delicate. “I remember how the country club was full of white roses the night of your birthday party. You cringed when you saw all the flowers. Said it looked like a girl party. But you enjoyed the attention.” She touched a bloom, adjusting it so it sat a little taller. “I was jealous of you that night. I wanted to be twenty-one, and I wanted to be going back to college like you. You had it all, Jeff.”
She sat back on her heels and stared up at the cloudless sky. “I was glad you needed me. I was glad to drive you and Sydney home. I felt grown up.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “I really thought I had it under control. I’ve gone over and over those last minutes before the crash and will always swear there were headlights on the road. No one ever believed me but I know. I’m sorry I didn’t react fast enough.”
Greer swiped away a tear. “I failed you, Jeff, Mom and Dad . . . so many people hurt because of me.”
A shadow cast over her and drew her attention up to an older man wearing a green jumpsuit. He carried a rake in one hand and a shovel in the other. Years in the sun had left his face well lined and deeply tanned. He’d tied his thinning white hair at the nape of his neck and wore a silver chain around his neck. “You all right?”
Greer swiped her tear and rose. “Yeah. I’m fine. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I see folks here all the time that aren’t happy. I make a point to stop and say a word.”
“Thanks.” She studied the flowers. “Do you happen to know who left those flowers?”
He studied the roses. “Don’t know. They were here when I arrived about ten to seven.”
The hot day’s sun burned her skin and had her wishing she’d worn a hat. “I didn’t think they’d been here long.”
“I do know they get changed out regularly. About once a month new flowers arrive.”
“Really?” How could she not have known?
“Yep. Usually before dawn ’cause I’m here by seven. And it’s always white roses.”
She shielded her eyes with her hand. “How long has this been going on?”
“For as long as I can remember. I can’t say exactly when they started.”
“I guess my mom has been putting out the flowers.” However, the statement didn’t ring true. As much as her mother had loved Jeff, she didn’t like coming to the cemetery. Sylvia dealt with life’s ups and downs by avoiding them. But if her mother would ever make such an exception, it would have been for Jeff.
“Couldn’t say. But I’ll keep an eye out going forward. I like a mystery to figure out.”
She didn’t. “Thanks.”
The old man nodded to the headstone. “He was young when he died.”
“Just twenty-one.”
“Real shame.”
“Yes.”
He adjusted his weight as if his hip bothered him. “Was it cancer? Cancer strikes many these days.”
Greer cleared her throat. “It was a car accident.”
He shook his head. “Young kids drive like bats out of hell. No sense.”
She’d not been driving recklessly. Or at least she’d not thought she had been. Rising, she dusted the dirt from her knees. “Thanks.”
“Sure.”
In her car, she switched on the engine. The blast of cold air did little to cool the heat of her skin, now flushed and hot. She put the car in drive and glanced toward Jeff’s grave. The caretaker stood next to her brother’s spot, leaning on his shovel and staring at Greer’s truck. She raised a nervous hand in farewell and he nodded.
She drove back toward the entrance and as she pulled out on the main road, she glanced in her rearview mirror. The caretaker was still staring at her.
Bragg had inspected Sara’s belongings and had found the red rope bracelet bagged and tagged in the box. His heart sped up when he lifted the bag and studied the red rope bracelet. Made of three braided thin red strips of yarn, the bracelet’s craftsmanship was amateurish and reminded him of something a teenager would wear. It hadn’t appeared out of place on Edwards but on Wentworth it was a huge red flag. What the hell did the red rope bracelet mean?
It took him a couple of hours, but he put all the details of the two murders into the ViCAP system. The national database contained details of other murders throughout the country, and if his killer had a hit anywhere else in the country maybe this detail would pop a match. ViCAP was not a perfect system. Cops in small localities with limited funding didn’t always have time to enter crimes into the database. His inquiry was a crapshoot but better than no shot at all.
He pushed away from the desk, grabbed his hat, and headed to the medical examiner’s office. Dr. Watterson would be doing Sara Wentworth’s examination this afternoon and he wanted to be present.
The heat hit him hard as he stepped outside. One hell of a hot spell had hit Texas, and now they were knee-deep in summer’s brutal temperatures. He’d grown up working outside and had learned to ignore the heat. For some reason, he thought about Greer outside. She’d said harvest time would be soon, which meant she was likely in the fields working in the heat preparing.
It was a hell of a lifestyle switch. Knowing she was raised in the world of country clubs, pools, and fancy trips, he doubted she’d known a bit of manual labor before she’d moved to Bonneville. But he’d felt the scrape of calluses on her hands and seen the depth of her tan when he caught a flash of white flesh just inside the cleavage of her dress.
That little bitty peek shot right through his body. As he’d stood there wondering if she could kill a man or if she was trouble waiting to happen, he’d been rock hard. His voice had been calm, steady, as he’d imagined touching those white breasts.
Bragg shook his head. “Son, you been out of the game too damn long.”
He’d dated over the years. Even been serious about one gal about ten years ago. But he’d never been able to bring himself to pull the trigger. He’d had a host of excuses. Work earned the lion’s share of reasons. The last gal he’d dated had been just fine. And he couldn’t give her a reason why he didn’t want to get married. And when it occurred to him not having a reason wasn’t reason enough, he’d broken it off.
He parked and strode the short distance inside. He stepped onto the elevator and found the doctor and his assistant preparing the instruments standing by an exam table holding a body clad with a white sheet.