Vows of Silence by Debra Webb Page B

understands that leaving town just now isn’t an option.”
    The senator exhaled a mighty breath. “I guess that’s all I can ask of you.”
    His head bowed, and with uncharacteristic humility, the senator exited Rick’s office. Before Rick had a chance to analyze the sudden about-face in his demeanor, Deputy Brewer came in and closed the door. Judging by the look of excitement on his face, he had news.
    Rick didn’t dare hope for a real break in the case, but he’d take anything he could get at this point.
    “You’re not going to believe who Deputy Kilgore spotted in town this morning.”
    Brad Brewer was not an overlarge guy. Five eight, hundred forty pounds. But at one time he’d been fifty pounds heavier and built like a brick wall. The bulk had gotten him labeled as the Refrigerator back in his high-school football days. Right now he looked as if he’d just scored the winning touchdown.
    “Don’t tell me,” Rick said. “Pamela Carter, right?” Charles’s body had turned up, why not Pam’s unexpected return? A reunion of the town’s missing would be just perfect.
    Brad frowned. “Who?”
    Rick shook his head. “Never mind.” Pam had dropped out of school and, like Rick, she’d been from the south side of the tracks. Brad wouldn’t remember her especially since he hadn’t been in the department at the time of her disappearance.
    “Bent Thompson,” Brad blurted. “He’s back in town. Some coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”
    Well, well. The vanishing thug was back. Now that was a hell of a coincidence, considering he’d disappeared about the same time as Ashland and Carter. The circumstances had all been so different that the former chief hadn’t connected the three. All three had been adults and no indication of foul play had been uncovered.
    “Tell Kilgore I want him keeping an eye on Thompson.” Sure there was no proof of course that Thompson’s abrupt departure from town ten years ago had any more to do with Charles’s murder than Pamela’s, it was likely a waste of time. Still his being back certainly appeared rather timely in a strange kind of way.
    “Will do.”
    Before he could rush out the door, Rick said, “Just a minute, Brewer.”
    Brewer turned back, a question on his face. “Yeah?”
    “Close the door.”
    Brewer did as he was told then approached Rick’s desk as if he sensed the conversation needed to be kept as quiet as possible.
    “Do you remember much about Lacy Oliver and her friends from back in school? Other than the fact that they were the most popular girls in the class.”
    He shrugged, looked just a little uncomfortable. “Lacy and Melinda were cheerleaders. Cassidy, well, she was just an uptight—”
    “Yeah,” Rick interrupted. “I remember she wasn’t always easy to get along with. What about Kira?” He found it ironic that Brewer hadn’t mentioned Kira, since Rick hadn’t missed the way the deputy had stared at her on more than one occasion since her return to town.
    Brewer looked thoughtful for a moment. “She was a cheerleader, too, the best I recall.”
    “That’s right,” Rick said, going along with his obvious ploy of indifference. “She was the first black girl on the squad, I think.”
    “Color shouldn’t have mattered,” Brewer said tightly, bitterness cluttering his expression.
    “You liked her,” Rick suggested, knowing damn well he had before Brewer said a word in denial.
    “We knew each other,” he said defensively. “You should have known her, too.”
    Rick dropped into his chair, an idea taking shape. “I did, but not as well as you apparently.”
    Brewer averted his eyes. “That’s ancient history, Chief. I don’t know why we’re going there.”
    “I want you to keep an eye on her, Brewer. Talk to her if you can. Convince her that whatever she and her friends are hiding will only make bad matters worse.”
    “You really think they had something to do with this?”
    Rick shrugged. “I don’t know if they had