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“Down there.” Houser pointed to the floor beneath the lowest shelf.
“Someone stood around in this little closet ...” She turned all the way around. Four feet by six, maybe. “Long enough to smoke a cigarette or two?”
“Maybe smoking wasn’t allowed, and he hid in here.”
In a damned broom closet that anyone could have accessed?
“Come on, Houser,” she argued. “This evidence is sounding thinner all the time. If you don’t have prints or blood or something on the purse, I can’t see how you expect to go the distance with this inquiry into Johnson.”
Finley knew exactly how the DA would see it, and it would not be to Metro’s advantage.
“We’re doing all the necessary testing. We’ll have the results back on the cigarette butts tomorrow. If your guy had nothing to do with Lucy Cagle’s murder, he should be only too happy for us to rule him out.”He held up a hand when Finley would have reminded him of Johnson’s reasons. “Yeah, I know his story, but I’m not so sure I believe him.”
Finley made a noncommittal face. “I’ll talk to him again, but no promises.” She looked Houser straight in the eye. “Seriously, the handbag and the cigarette butts could have ended up here at different times. Anyone could have smoked a cigarette right here without having a clue that handbag was on the top shelf. This is a reach, Houser, and you know it.”
“Maybe.” He looked away. “Maybe not.”
There was no question in her mind that Metro was pushing this in hopes of finally getting the goods on a Johnson. It was far too thin otherwise. Unless, as she’d already considered, there was something more Houser hadn’t shared as of yet. Finley let the idea go for the moment. “I’d like to see the evidence.”
“I can maybe arrange that. We’ll have to do it at the lab since it’s still there.”
“I appreciate it.” She shook her head. “But I’ll say it again, Houser, unless you found some sort of evidence on or inside the handbag itself that connects it to Johnson, you’re going to have a hell of a time selling this to Briggs. It would have been too easy for anyone to put that purse here at any point over the past thirteen years.”
“I get that too.” He exhaled a big breath, clearly weary of the discussion.
“What’s the deal?” Finley watched his face closely for tells. “You got a personal beef with Johnson?” This whole thing felt completely un-Houser-like.
He considered her for long enough to have her wondering if he intended to answer one way or the other. Finally he said, “People who make their way in this life by cheating and hurting other people just rub me the wrong way. You should do more research. See who the Johnson family really is. You might not like what you find.”
“I already know I won’t,” she confessed. She didn’t like the vibe Ray Johnson exuded. But that wasn’t the issue here. The question was whether he was guilty of murder. “But it’s not my job to like him. My job is to find the truth.”
Houser made a sound of disbelief and shook his head. “You’re the only member of a criminal defense team I’ve ever met who wanted to know the truth about a client.”
“You’d think more cops would like me.” She walked out of the cramped closet, took a breath.
“If it helps,” Houser said, joining her, “I like you.” He chuckled. “I mean, better than I like most lawyers.”
A few months ago, she would have told him she wasn’t a lawyer anymore. But her probation had been lifted. She could practice law again if she chose. She was more pleased about the decision than she’d anticipated. Maybe deep down she really, really was excited about the run for DA. Admitting that her former ambition was back kind of felt premature, but maybe it had returned.
“Speaking of which,” he went on, “I saw a mention of you on the local stories page in theTennesseanthis morning.”
“About me?” She put a hand to her chest in anticipation of having to protect her vital parts from some unknown attack. This couldn’t be good.
“Maureen Downey says you’re running for Davidson County district attorney.” He grinned. “I hope it’s true that you’re finally making the official announcement.”
She had known that off the cuff response would come back to haunt her. Not quite so quickly, but there it was. “I have not made theofficialannouncement per se, but I did agree that she could quote me on the possibility.”
“Guess you have now.”
Apparently so. She would be hearing about that from the Judge and her father ... not to mention Jack.
“You’ll let me know when I can see the purse,” she reminded Houser, shifting the subject back to the case.
“Sure. But I’m curious how you think it will help with your client.”
“Maybe it won’t. But the things a woman carries in her purse say something about who she is, where she’s going at any given time. You’d be surprised what you can learn from a tube of lip gloss.”
He visibly relaxed the slightest bit. “Then I’ll be sure to get you in. I could use a reading on what Lucy was up to at the time of her murder.”
