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“Detective Graves thinks so as well,” Finley stated noncommittally.
“Graves and I put our notes together, and we’re in agreement that the true connection between Hughes and Brant is Carson Dempsey.”
Fourteen months, one week, and three days after her husband was murdered, the cops finally put two and two together. Amazing.
“Maybe they were involved with Dempsey’s son,” she tossed back. “After all, Dempsey is a mover and shaker in this city. A major contributor to all the right political campaigns. A hero in his many, many charitable works. Surely he wouldn’t employ thugs.”
Houser’s silence warned she had hit the mark with her sarcasm.
“One of the reports I read in Derrick’s file,” he finally said, “was where you insisted that Carson Dempsey ordered a hit on your husband because you put his son away.”
Too little, too late.
And yet, every nerve in her body pulsed with frustration. “It seemed like the most likely scenario at the time.”
“I’m beginning to think you might have been onto something,” Houser confessed. “I’m just sorry we didn’t see it sooner.”
Oh yeah. Way too late.
“Particularly,” he went on, “since you were in the vicinity of both Hughes’s and Brant’s murders.”
Deep inside, Finley stilled. “What does that mean?”
“I’m thinking,” Houser went on, “these two have been following you. Keeping tabs on you for their boss. The reason eludes me, but I really feel you need to be particularly careful, Ms.O’Sullivan. In a statement you made a couple of months after your release from the hospital, you mentioned three men who worked for Dempsey. You said they had been watching you.”
“I hope you finally find some answers,” Finley said without responding to his comment. “It would be nice to have some sort of closure.”
“Had those two men been watching you before their deaths? It’s been over a year since your husband was murdered. Seems like a long time to drag out whatever point they hoped to make.”
“I’ve seen them around.” It was true. “Well, not Hughes. Not since July. But that guy—Brant—and the other one.”
“Flock,” he confirmed. “Chet Flock.”
“Yes, that’s him.”
“So, they still follow you around?”
“Not like before,” she countered. Not at all like before. Before they’d had the upper hand. Not anymore. Before there had been three of them. Now there was only one.
“I’m planning to bring Flock in for questioning. I’ll keep you informed on what I discover.”
Finley should’ve kept her mouth shut from there, but she simply couldn’t stop herself. “What’s the point? Are you going after Dempseyfor Derrick’s murder? If not, why bother? Why not just close the case and be done with it?”
Finley bit her lips together. Damn. She’d broken her first and most important rule.Don’t say more than necessary. Ever.
Houser had pushed the right button, and she’d been unable to keep quiet.
Damn it.
“I won’t just close the case, Finley. You have my word on that. I will find the people who murdered your husband and who hurt you.”
Too late. I already did.
Lena Marsh exited the clinic.
“Thanks for the update, Detective Houser. I have a meeting.”
“I’ll talk to you after my interview with Flock,” he said quickly before she could end the call.
