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Finn blew out a breath. “I just think you could both benefit from a conversation. That’s all I’m asking.”
“All right,” Eli said easily. Too easily. “She can meet me at The Rolling Log bar on Friday night around nine. I’ll have a little chat with her then.”
“But that’s days from now,” Cora blurted. “Why Friday?”
Eli’s eyes glittered with anticipation. “Because your man needs to do me a little favor first.”
The hair on the back of Cora’s neck rose. Whatever Eli wanted, it couldn’t be good.
“I’ve got a lot of casework this week.” Finn sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “But if one of your guys is in trouble, I might be able to—”
“I ain’t talking about legal counsel.” Eli stared Finn down. “You know what I’m talking about...Jack.”
Finn froze, then swore under his breath. He looked as if Eli had just punched him in the gut. Eli crossed his arms in challenge, waiting for Finn’s answer. What the hell was going on? Cora’s flight instinct was kicking in hard. She needed to shut this down fast.
“Come on, Finn. Let’s just go,” she said, heading toward the door.
Finn didn’t move. A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he was staring at the old man with a look of pained resignation, which Cora found even more alarming. Whatever Eli wanted, Finn looked like he was going to agree to it.
“Run along to the waiting room, little girl,” Eli told her. “The men need to talk.”
A nice roundhouse kick to the face was what Eli really needed, but she refrained. “Finn, come on. I’ll think of something else. I’m done here.” She gave him a gentle push in the direction of the door, but it was like pushing against a brick wall. He didn’t budge. Instead, he looked down at her with a cool, unreadable expression she remembered from the interrogation room.
“Cora, I need a moment to speak with Mr. Shelton alone,” Finn said in that clipped, professional tone she was beginning to resent. The sudden formality was like an ice cube down her back. “If you could be so kind as to wait in the showroom, this won’t take long.”
Cora clenched her teeth. She’d be so kind as to kick his butt into high gear so they could get the hell out of this place. “Don’t you lawyer-speak to me in that tone of voice,” she mumbled under her breath. “I don’t know what that deranged, misogynistic, North Pole reject is asking you to do, but I’m not on board with it. Do you hear me?”
Finn’s lips twitched, and for a moment his mask slipped. “I promise I’ll make it quick, Cora. Please?”
She wanted to argue further, but he looked just as determined to talk to Eli alone as Cora was to go, so she firmed her features. “Sure thing. I’ll be in the waiting room when you’re ready.”
Stomping down the hall, Cora made sure to cough a couple of times, so they heard her leaving. After a few seconds she spun on her heel and tiptoed back, stopping right before she reached the doorway. She could just make out their conversation over the muffled sound of the radio in the garage.
“Who’s up?” Finn’s voice was low and cold. “Give me something.”
“Goes by the name Meat.”
Finn made a noise of disgust. “Are you trying to get me killed, Eli? I’m not even in the scene, and I’ve heard of that guy.”
“Just do your thing. Get in and get out. Keep it simple.”
“Easy for you to say, old man.”
“You’ve kept up.” It sounded like Eli slapped Finn on the back. “I can tell. We can make it worth your while, too. Just like the old days.”
“No. I don’t want anything.”
Eli let out a raspy laugh. “Look at him now, ladies and gentlemen. A fine, upstanding law man.”
“Just tell me when and where.”
“Wednesday night, ten o’clock.” Eli rattled off an address, and Cora quickly entered it into her phone. When the map pinpointed the location, her mouth fell open in shock. It was the gas station from the video footage where Slice and his friends had been hanging out on the night of Lindsey’s murder. Something wasn’t adding up here. This didn’t make any sense. Why would Finn need to go to a rundown gas station in the middle of nowhere on a Wednesday night? Was Eli running drugs with some guy named Meat? No, Finn would never get involved in that kind of thing. It had to be something else.
“Why me?” Finn asked him. “Surely, you have someone better suited for it.”
“No one like you. Makes things interesting.”
“What are the odds?” Finn’s tone was grim.
