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It was that way, was it?
She paused a moment, chose her words carefully. “The firm’s client has not been charged with any crime as of yet. We can’t be sure that he will be. If he is, Jack will do all in his power to defend him to the best of his ability. My goal, Mr.Bauer, is to find the facts—whatever they are. If you can help me toward that end, I would greatly appreciate it.”
His eyes narrowed. “You were an excellent prosecutor. I’ve been intrigued by the cases you’ve taken on with Jack Finnegan. You’re smart, and you’re persistent.”
Her patience thinned, but she didn’t want to put the man off. “Thank you for the compliment, but I didn’t come here looking for accolades. I came to a highly recommended source for help in finding the truth. My hope is that you can help me with that. Did you find any connection between Lucy Cagle and the Johnson family?”
Bauer took a half minute, every second of which he studied her closely. Finally, he said, “If I knew who murdered Lucy Cagle, that person would be in prison today. What I did and still do suspect is that someone like the Johnson family was likely involved. The final pieces of Lucy’s research into a human trafficking ring no doubt led her to local organized crime. I have no idea what she discovered since any records or notes she kept were not found, but I firmly believe what she learned is the reason she’s dead.”
Did her father know this as well? Finley blinked away the thought.
When Bauer said no more, Finley asked, “You’ve uncovered nothing else? No useful connection? Not in all these years?”
His head moved slowly from side to side. “Nothing.” He drew a long breath. “If I may, I’d like to offer you some advice.”
“Advice is always welcome,” she prompted.
“Ray and his father like playing the good old boy role. A little rough around the edges but all soft in the middle. People view them differently for that reason. In fact, I’ll bet when you first met your new client, you immediately labeled him a bully, a thug. Maybe not as bright as the average businessman. Cocky without the intellectual capacity to be properly arrogant.”
She pursed her lips to prevent a smile. “Pretty much.”
“You would feel the same if you met his father, Raymond Senior.”
“You’re suggesting this is not the case.” Finley saw where he was going.
“It is not the case at all. Ray Johnson is very smart. Perhaps not brilliant but smart enough to have helped his father run what is, without question, even if without evidence, an organized crime family for most of his life. From who builds what to who sells what in this city, that family has been involved on some level for at least two generations. Believe me when I say, Ray wants you to see him as a not-quite-so-smart bully. He wants you to believe he isn’t capable of a complex plot. But he is. I am one hundred percent certain of that, if nothing else. Whether he or his family was involved in Lucy’s murder, I can’t say. Certainly I can’t prove it one way or the other. Chances are, even if you find some little something that has been overlooked, you won’t be able to prove it either.”
Finley chewed on his opinion for a bit. “Not even with this new evidence?”
He chuckled. “They find her handbag after all this time along with a cigarette butt or two? Gimme a break. Who’s to say the butts were actually with the handbag? Maybe someone planted one or both there?Or they were simply there. After all, the warehouse was in the family for decades. No doubt Ray or his old man burned a few smokes on the property. Anyone could have tucked the handbag there after Lucy’s murder. To be blunt, if the police don’t have more than that, they are wasting everyone’s time.”
Finley agreed. This was a man with finely tuned reasoning after decades of work in the field of investigation, as well as many sources, including at least one in Metro.
“If the killer—whoever he was—stowed the handbag there all those years ago,” she suggested, hoping to tap into that wealth of experience, “why leave it—especially if it could connect him to the murder—when the property sold? He had to know it might be found. Why not go back for it?”
Bauer allowed a grin. “Good point. Let’s look at this a different way, shall we? Who’s to say the killer is still around or even alive. Or maybe Ray found it and left it there for the new owner to find.”
Now he’d lost her. “Why would he do that?”
“To have a little fun with the cops who are always trying to bust his balls? To provide a reason for hiring Jack Finnegan—andyou.”
Finley turned her hands up. “I can’t think of a single reason he would want to hire my firm, much less me. Can you?”
“This is the trouble I see,” Bauer countered. “Whoever did this had a strong motive for going with the flow on this big new find or for making it happen—whatever the case might be. Either way, you and Jack should be concerned as to what exactly the endgame is. Who is using you? Metro—in an effort to finally learn the truth? Or Johnson, to prompt something he wants to happen?”
Finley allowed his insightful words to sink in. “You’ve given me something to think about,” she admitted. “What are your thoughts on the younger brother, Ian? He disappeared right after Lucy’s murder.”
Again, Bauer took a moment before answering her question, maybe gathering his thoughts. Maybe figuring out what part of the truth he would give her.
“Ian was babied by the old man. His favorite, some would say. He got away with not being as good at being bad as his brother. I’m guessing that got him killed.” He flared his hands in question. “The timing was likely a coincidence, since I couldn’t find a connection between Lucy and Ian. Or maybe Ian’s killer took advantage of Lucy’s murder to make it appear the boy’s disappearance was connected. Trust me when I say no one, and I mean no one, would have wanted to face old man Johnson’s rage. If someone—a competitor or former ally—took Ian out of play, that person would have gone to great lengths to avoid being caught.”
Finley figured this was as much as Bauer intended to share, so she moved on to the other mystery in this case. “Where did Louise Cagle end up? She seems to have disappeared after her husband’s death. I would very much like to speak with her if possible. I’m certain she would be interested in this turn of events. Has she contacted you?”
Bauer leaned forward, braced his forearms on his desk once more. “When Metro continued to come up empty handed and I was unable to do much better, and considering her husband’s sudden death, I’m guessing she couldn’t take it anymore. She vanished. I haven’t heard from her since. Phones were cut off. Her house was closed up. It still sits there today, just as she left it. I honestly have no idea what became of her.”
“I find it wrong somehow,” Finley argued, “that such a beloved icon of the community would just throw away everything ... stop looking for her daughter’s killer and disappear. I tried a search of Louise before she was famous and came up with nothing helpful. Her family was from the Knoxville area, but since her family has all passed away, I wasn’t sure if there was anyone else I might be able to track down.”
A faint smile touched his lips. “I did the same thing thirteen years ago. Louise had one brother. He hadn’t heard from her the last time I spoke with him.”
