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Shaking her head, Finley walked to the door. “I am leaving, Spot. You’d better come on, or I will lock you up in this garage for the night.”
As if to reiterate her frustration, exhaustion settled down on her like a load of bricks. Why the hell did she even walk over here?
“Spot!” she demanded. “Come!”
She was not crawling around on the floor to try and catch that dog. With no other choice, she swiped the switch, turning off the light. She waited a beat and then started out the door. As if the turning off of the light had been her cue, Spot barreled out the door and into the dark yard.
She should never have let that animal out of the house at this hour. She locked up the garage and stalked back to the house. To her surprise, the dog raced ahead of her and waited at the door.
Thank God.
Finley had enough problems without losing her neighbor’s dog.
When she exited the yard—closing the gate—she almost stumbled back when she made out the shape of a man waiting in the darkness on the street.
“Fin.”
For three beats Finley couldn’t speak.
Not her follower.
Her father stood in the dark by Matt’s car.
“What’re you doing here?” It had to be ten thirty or eleven. She noticed his car then. He’d parked in front of Matt’s. “Is everything okay?” Her heart pounded harder.
“I was going to your door, and then I saw you on the sidewalk.”
She moved closer, folded her arms over her chest. Damn, it was cold. Her feet suddenly felt icy on the bottoms. “What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t feel comfortable the way we left things today.”
“You want to come in?” This was seriously weird.
“No. No.” He shook his head adamantly. “I had a meeting tonight, and on the way home I thought I should drop by and see you. Sorry it’s so late. I didn’t consider the time.”
Okay, she could see that, but still, he usually called.
“I could make coffee,” she offered again, hoping to get him inside.
“I really should get home. Your mother will be worried. But I ... I had to make sure we were okay.”
“We’re fine, Dad.” No, she wasn’t going to pretend. She walked right up to him and looked him straight in the eye with the aid of the streetlamp. “Tell me why you really went to see Ray Johnson.”
“I didn’t actually know the Johnson family,” he said, glancing at her bare feet. “But I saw on the news—back then—that his brother was missing. That sort of thing is always sad to see, but really, I thought little about it beyond that momentary consideration. Then, a few weeks later, Ray Johnson came to see me.”
Finley forgot all about the cold. “What did he want?”
Her father drew in a big breath. “He said the police had been harassing him about some connection between his missing brother and the—he called herthe dead girl.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “He wanted to know if I was the one who told the police such a ridiculous rumor. I told him no, and that was the end of it.” He rubbed at his forehead. “But with all this business being reopened, I began to worry that he—Ray Johnson—might again think this had something to do with me. Particularly since he hired your firm. Honestly, I’m just worried that he’s using you to punish me for something I didn’t even do. I never said one thing about him or his family to the police.”
Finley couldn’t be sure if he was telling her the whole truth, but he sounded sincere. Or maybe she just wanted him to be telling the truth. Either way, she was too exhausted to start a battle tonight. “Dad, I’m not worried that you did anything wrong. I know you wouldn’t. My only concern is that you might know something—without understanding the importance of it—that would help my investigation.”
He nodded. “Oh, I see.”
Did he? “Why did you have lunch with Maureen Downey?”
He chuckled, but the sound was far drier than usual. “You should know the answer to that one. She wanted to grill me about your potential run against Briggs.” He went for another laugh that failed just as miserably. “I fear there will be a lot more reporters knocking on our doors.”
Finley forced a smile. “Probably.”
