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“A couple of close friends from school. No one that really stood out as a bestie. No boyfriends—that her parents knew about anyway.”
No bestie. Hmm. “It would be really helpful to see the case file,” Finley ventured.
His grin resurfaced. “Sent it to your email before driving over here. I sent you a copy of everything I’m allowed to send.”
Finley dug her phone from her messenger bag and checked her email. There it was, just like he said. She opened the email and perused the attached PDF. Several names were listed but not Jessica Downey’s. So, Finley had been right. Jessica was being protected. Thewhywas the question. Why wouldn’t Downey and Cagle want the police to know Jessica’s name? If she had information that might help find the bastard who killed Lucy, why not tell someone? There was the chance, of course, she had known nothing, so exposing her to the investigation was unnecessary. Still, naming her would have been the right thing to do.
“Anything you weren’t expecting there?”
Finley would share her thoughts on Jessica Downey with Houser, just not yet.
“Not at all. Thank you for sharing.”
He nodded. “You have anything to share with me yet? Like why your client refuses to submit to a DNA test?”
“I think he’s just worried that there will be a mistake and then he’ll end up attached to another case somewhere down the line.” The waiter appeared with their food, giving her a moment’s reprieve.
As soon as the guy had bid them a bon appétit and disappeared, Houser stared expectantly at her.
“You know some people are paranoid like that,” she went on. The truth was, sometimes it paid to be. “With all the strange things occurring with DNA sites, I can see his hesitation.” It was true. Maybe not in the case of her client, but ... there it was.
He grunted a sound that might have been agreement but not quite.
“You realize that warehouse was empty for a very long time,” she reminded him. “Anyone could have put that purse there.”
His eyes narrowed, searched hers. “You like this guy?”
“Johnson?” she asked, feigning uncertainty at his query. This was a question she preferred not to answer. Her personal thoughts could shine a bad light on a client. That was never a good thing, and Houser was well aware of this.
He leaned forward ever so slightly. “If you don’t know his history, take my word, he’s a piece of work.”
“His father has a shady sort of reputation,” Finley agreed. “I’ve heard his name over the years—rarely in a good way. Since Jack took him on as a client, I’ve done some research. There are all sorts of rumors. Drugs. Guns. I even read one report that suggested he used to hire assassins to take out his competition. But none of it seems to have been substantiated. You have anything that says otherwise?”
“He was never charged with anything,” Houser admitted. “The sons, either, but that doesn’t mean they’re innocent.”
“Agreed,” Finley said. “So, what do you know about the younger son, Ian? I haven’t really found much on him.” Approaching the subject of Ian was touchy. Since he’d disappeared around the same time as Lucy Cagle’s murder, there was risk involved with even mentioning his name. His name would already be in the file, since Johnson had mentioned his father being questioned about the younger son once the missing person report was filed. Finley would dig deeper into what Houser had sent her when she had a few minutes.
“He disappeared just days after Lucy’s murder. But he wasn’t listed as missing until a week later.”
So far the facts lined up. Always a good thing.
“According to the report,” Houser went on, “there was some confusion about the timing. The father said he disappeared that same weekend. The brother said it was a few days later. There was no reason at the time to suspect a connection, although considering how high profile theCagle case was, I’m not surprised his disappearance was checked out. Everything that happened during that time frame was checked out.”
No question. Finley had been too caught up in her freshman year at Vandy to be aware of the deeper details. Now, however, as a former assistant district attorney, she was well aware that in a case like the Cagle murder, every rock was turned over.
“But, as you can imagine,” Houser continued, “there wasn’t a lot of follow-up on a guy that age deciding to leave town without telling his family, particularly considering the family. Ian may have simply wanted to separate himself from the others. That was the thinking at the time, based on the notes in the case file. But, in light of this new discovery, it puts a whole new spin on the missing son.”
“The family offered no explanation of why he disappeared at the time?” Finley asked.
Johnson had said basically the same thing as what Houser found in the file. But was he regurgitating the conclusion of the detective on the case? Or had the family had reason to believe this was true at the time? Finley would like to hear anything either man, the older brother or the father, had to say thirteen years ago. The statements made from a thirteen-year distance were often far different from the thoughts at the time of the event.
Not that it would make much difference, she supposed. Unless she could find someone able to connect Ian Johnson to Lucy Cagle before her murder, the only connection would be, as Houser said, the newly found handbag and a few cigarette butts, and that was anemic at best.
“Basically nothing we could confirm,” Houser said. “The detective who took the report said Ray mentioned something about his brother wanting to do his own thing. The father, however, repeatedly suggested that one of his competitors in the business may have taken his son. The detective considered both possibilities, but nothing was found either way. Lucy’s friends from school, Garrison and Williams, couldn’t confirm that Lucy had a man in her life, but they both believed she wassecretly seeing someone. But they had no idea who it was. Nothing they said could push Ian Johnson or anyone else into the suspect category.”
“And that was the end of it?” Finley prodded. It seemed wrong to have let it go so easily, but hindsight was almost always twenty-twenty.
“That was essentially the extent of the investigation into Ian Johnson’s disappearance, yes. If someone took him out, his body was never found. He hasn’t resurfaced, which makes me think he’s dead. When I spoke to Ray—before he hired your firm—he claimed he and his father never heard from Ian again, but who can trust anything those two say.”
