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The truth, Finley suspected, lay in the reason for the evidence appearing out of the blue after all these years.
The trouble was in finding the person behind that reason.
But there were other things, like the ex-wife’s supposed slip. Houser needed to take that ball and run with it. Maybe it would end up being a pointless play; maybe it would end up a winner.
The ex-wife may have put the evidence in the warehouse. The question then became how and why she had access to Lucy’s purse.
Women had killed for far less than fear their sugar daddy was about to be brought down by someone determined to get the story. Since the ex no longer needed Ray Johnson around to get what she wanted, maybe she had decided to get him out of the way.
Just one more potential suspect in a case that should have been solved more than a decade ago.
15
Vanderbilt Medical Center
Medical Center Drive, Nashville, 7:30 p.m.
Helen Roberts was awake.
Finley smiled as she walked into the room. “You’re looking better.”
Roberts only stared at her as Finley came up to the side of her bed. She searched Finley’s face as if looking for some trouble or bad news.
When none came, the older woman said, “Did they teach you to lie like that in law school?”
Now there was the Helen Roberts Finley knew and appreciated. “Among other things.”
Roberts was no fool. She recognized she looked like hell. Maybe her heart issue was the reason she seemed so much older than she actually was. Finley had thought she was in her midseventies. As it turned out, according to her hospital paperwork, she was only sixty-nine. Bad genes? Hard work? Hard life? Who knew?
Roberts had pleasant eyes. Her hair was gray and usually twisted into a bun of sorts, but since coming here it hung past her shoulders in a knotty mass.
“Don’t get any ideas about combing my hair,” she said, following Finley’s gaze. “They can cut it off.”
Finley didn’t bother mentioning that untangling hair was not one of her finer attributes. She’d hated it when her mother had done it to her as a kid. She made sure hers stayed in a clip or ponytail to avoid the problem.
“I brought you a pic of the dog.” She tapped the screen of her cell and displayed the photo Matt had sent. “I forgot to ask his name.”
Again, Roberts watched Finley closely for a few beats before answering the question. “Spot.” She studied the screen, her face softening the slightest bit.
“Oh. Okay,” Finley acknowledged. The name was weird because the dog had no spots, but whatever. “We’re keeping your mail on the kitchen table. And don’t worry, we make sure the gate is closed, and we watch closely whenever we take Spot into the yard to do his business.”
“I appreciate that.”
Finley produced a smile that quickly drooped. Damn it. She’d forgotten to have flowers sent to the room. No one should be in the hospital and not have flowers. Worse, she knew her neighbor loved flowers. The gift shop downstairs would be closed by now.
“I checked with the nurse,” Finley mentioned when Roberts said no more, “and it looks like you may have to stay until the end of next week. You okay with that?”
Disappointment flickered in the woman’s eyes. “I guess I have no choice.”
“Well, I’m having dinner with my parents tonight, so I should get going. I’ll be back tomorrow evening. Call me if you need anything. I put my card by your phone.” She nodded to the handset lying on the table next to the bed. “The nurses have my number as well.”
Roberts blinked but remained silent.
“Bye.” Finley turned away and headed for the door. What a strange woman.
“Finley.”
She paused and turned back to her neighbor.
