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“Good grief,” he said, frowning. “I hope she’s going to be all right.”
“Me too,” Finley agreed. “So how’s work going?” she asked as he poked around in the massive fridge.
Her father had retired from a lifetime of dedication to social services. Actually, he’d retired a little earlier than he’d planned so he could help her through rehab afterthatnight—the night Derrick was murdered and she was raped and beaten nearly to death. Her father was the one who took care of her. But then after she was back on her feet,he had grown bored, so he’d accepted a position on the Belle Meade planning commission. Mostly he worked from home, but she supposed it made him feel as if he were continuing to do his part for the community.
Finley imagined that with a wife who stayed in the limelight all the time, it was difficult for her father to ever feel he’d done enough. But would that make him step so far across a line?
No. No way.
As he scooped chocolate ice cream into the blender, he talked about the new businesses vying for growth options in the area. New estate-home developments. Even the plan for a new elementary school.
Finley tried to listen, but the words just jumbled in her brain.
When he’d poured the milkshakes into tall glasses and inserted straws, he grinned. “And here we are.”
He placed one in front of her and the other on the counter as he settled onto the stool next to her. He took a long sip from the straw. “Hmm. I haven’t lost my touch.” He looked to her for confirmation.
Finley drew a long swallow and made a satisfied sound. “Delicious as always.”
“What’s going on, Fin? You seem worried. Everything okay with Matt?”
She laughed. “You can do better than that, Dad. You know everything is perfect with Matt because Matt is Matt.”
He laughed. “You’re right. Silly of me to ask.”
Matt was the smartest and nicest guy in the universe. He was always good.
Deep breath. Just do it. “Jack and I have a new client.”
Bart’s eyebrows went up in question as he sucked on his milkshake.
They always had a new client, he was likely thinking. Why the big announcement?
“Is Jack okay?” he asked when he’d swallowed.
“Jack is great.” Finley fiddled with her straw, decided it was best to just rip off the Band-Aid without further ado. “Our new client is Ray Johnson.”
Her father’s expression shifted. Seemed to close. He pushed the milkshake aside, having apparently lost his appetite. “Jack is representing him? What’s he done?”
Finley nodded. The conversation instantly and abruptly felt awkward, and she hadn’t even gotten to the uncomfortable part yet. “You remember Lucy Cagle? The girl who was murdered when I was a freshman at Vandy? Her mother was that big deal ...”
Her thought trailed off at the look on her father’s face. He stared at her in something like shock or despair. The weight of the shift derailed her thought process. Had her heart sinking.
Finley blinked. Cleared her throat. “Lucy was that big shot investigative reporter’s daughter.”
“I know who she was.”
His voice sounded hollow, an echo coming from far, far away. His face remained closed. He didn’t want to talk about this. Suddenly she didn’t want to either.
But she had to ... she could not unhear what Houser had said. Could not unsee the look on her father’s face at this very moment. She had to confirm this entire scenario was wrong. She would not breathe deeply again—her heart would not beat properly again—until she heard the words from her father.
“Did you know her? Lucy, I mean.”
Her father stared at his half-finished milkshake. “Of course, I knew her. She was at the top of every news feed for months. It was a tragedy. A terrible time for the whole city. All of Nashville adored her mother, and Lucy was taken from her in the most brutal way. It’s not the sort of thing you forget.”
The chocolate suddenly tasted bitter in Finley’s mouth. She tried to swallow, but somehow her throat could not complete the action. “How did you know her?”
His gaze collided with hers, a hint of anger there now. “What do you mean?”
