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Finley held up a hand. “I can handle this myself, but thank you for the offer. I was only curious if the surveillance was coming from your camp.”
“You have my word, Finley,” the younger Johnson said, his face dead serious, “we are not watching you or following you. Your reputation precedes you. We know you’ll get the job done.”
Finley could live with that ... for now.
“Let us know,” Jack said, “if anything new comes up, and remember”—he looked to the son—“do not speak to anyone about this case. If anyone from Metro wants to talk to you, you make sure I am with you when that happens.”
“Yes, sir.”
The old man glanced repeatedly at Finley while he and Jack chatted a minute or two more. He didn’t trust her. She figured he didn’t trust anyone. If he didn’t, that made them even, because she damned sure did not trust him or his son.
Ray escorted them to the door but hesitated before opening it. “Shelia mentioned that you’d visited her,” he said to Finley.
“I confirmed your alibi,” she returned.
“The thing you need to know about my wife,” he went on, “she sometimes suffers from these moments of grandeur where she thinks she knows something or someone she doesn’t. Don’t trust everything she says. You have my word she won’t say the wrong thing again to anyone.”
Finley hoped his assurance didn’t mean he’d threatened his ex-wife—or worse. “Good to know.”
Outside, she and Jack walked quietly to their vehicles. A glance back at the house told her Ray had gone back inside, but he was likely watching.
“He’s hiding something,” she said to Jack. “Something that will turn this case upside down.”
Jack glanced at the house. “I’ve got a bad feeling you’re right.”
Finley thought of her father and Downey ... they were both hiding something relevant as well. Where the hell were all these secrets going? Somewhere along the course of this investigation, they would collide. Worse, who would be left standing when it was done?
“Be careful out there, kid.”
“You too.”
They shared a quick hug and went their separate ways.
Her cell vibrated, and she reached into her pocket as she navigated the evening traffic.
Houser.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” he said. “If you have a few minutes and can meet me at the lab, you can see that evidence now.”
She grinned, executed a little air punch of victory. “I’m on my way. Thanks.”
“Just keep it on the down-low, would you? I can’t be doing this for every attorney who gets involved with one of my cases.”
“Sure. Of course. I understand.” He was doing her a huge favor. She got it.
“You do know I’m only doing this for you because you’re going to be the next DA and I want to be on your good side.”
She laughed. “Don’t hold your breath. See you in twenty.”
Finley ended the call and headed for the lab. A new rush of anticipation had her pulse keeping time with her driving speed. Both were a little over the limit.
14
Metro Nashville Police Crime Laboratory
Myatt Drive, Madison, Tennessee, 6:30 p.m.
