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Roberts drew in a weary breath. “It’s bad.”
Finley managed a reassuring smile. “But you’re in good hands. They’ll get you fixed up, and then you can go home.”
Roberts gave a listless nod, as if she comprehended that Finley’s words were possibly wishful thinking.
“Is there anyone I should call? A sister or brother? Cousin? Son or daughter?”
Roberts licked her dry, cracked lips. “No one.”
Damn. Finley had been afraid of that. “A friend or pastor?”
This was the South, after all; most everyone had church family. Well, everyone except Finley. Church hadn’t been on her calendar since she was a kid. Law school and life had crowded it out.
Roberts gave a faint shake of her head. “No one.”
“All right, then,” Finley said quickly as if it was no big deal. She certainly didn’t want the woman to feel even worse about being alone. “Tell me what I can do to help. I’ll take care of your dog, of course. Water any flowers or plants that you say I should. Take in your mail. Anything else?”
Roberts clutched at Finley’s arm with surprising strength and pulled at her. Finley leaned closer. Roberts studied her for a long moment. “Whatever you do,” she said, her words broken, barely a whisper, “don’t let him out. No ... no matter how much he begs.”
Finley patted her neighbor’s hand, the one clutched around her arm. “You have my word. I will not let him out under any circumstances.”
Roberts held tightly to Finley until her eyes closed and she lost her battle with the drugs no doubt dragging her back into unconsciousness. She needed all the rest she could get before tomorrow’s surgery.
Finley watched her sleep for a bit before leaving the room. She checked in with Nurse McCarthy, ensured she had Finley’s cell number and then left the hospital.
The reality of being so ill with no one to be at her bedside or to see after her was difficult to watch. There were times over the past eighteen months when Finley had wanted to push everyone away ... had wanted to be completely alone. But now she comprehended the mistake in that thinking. Being alone wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. As much asshe would like to proclaim that she needed no one ... it wasn’t true. She was immensely thankful for Matt and Jack and her family—even the Judge. Not that the two of them were ever going to have a traditional mother-daughter relationship, but they had a relationship. One they could both live with for now. Would it evolve as time went on? Maybe. At least it was a beginning, and it made Finley’s dad immensely happy. This was the thing about life. No matter how much Finley had wanted to pretend she hadn’t needed anyone after Derrick’s murder, it was a lie. Being alone like that—hurt and overwhelmed—was never a good thing.
Once in her car, she sent Matt a text to say she was headed home.
As she drove she thought of her neighbor’s insistence that she not let the dog out. Finley was confident she had meant without a leash. Roberts had taken him for walks daily. Finley could let him out in the yard as long as she ensured the gate stayed closed. No way was she going to be the one who let something happen to the woman’s dog. Finley suspected that might just push her over the edge if she somehow managed to hang on through tomorrow’s surgery.
Roberts had no family, no friends or church support system, which explained why the dog meant so much to her. The animal was her family. All Finley had to do was ensure the fuzzy thing stayed safe until Roberts was home again. Should be easy enough.
Famous last words.
4
O’Sullivan Residence
Shelby Avenue, Nashville, 10:30 p.m.
Matt opened the front door with a glass of her favorite red wine already in hand.
Finley tossed the well-worn messenger bag she used as a carryall onto the sofa and reached for the glass. “Thank you.” She drank long and deep, standing right there in the threshold.
When she finally came up for air, he ushered her inside far enough to close the door. The scent of spicy tomato sauce filled her lungs. “What is that amazing smell?”
“Your favorite marinara.”
She smiled, suddenly starving. “You are the best.”
She had blown through lunch in a meeting with a team of local powerhouses who hoped she would run for DA. Though the meeting was held in a private room at a posh restaurant, Finley hadn’t managed more than a couple of bites of salad. The Judge had latched on to Finley’s mention of potentially going up against Briggs. She desperately wanted Finley to reach for the brass ring the way she had.
Obviously, Finley’s former ambition hadn’t taken a permanent leave, since the idea of this career move appealed to her on some level she hadn’t yet fully analyzed or embraced.Ifshe tossed her hat intothe ring for Davidson County DA, there were hoops to jump through. Funding was one of those essential elements. The group her mother had thrown together was an enviable one for certain. Notable attorneys; a federal public defender and a couple of former prosecutors; a past, much-loved mayor of Nashville; and two major-corporation CEOs. Not a list to scoff at, for sure.
But Finley wasn’t ready to make any promises to or deals with powerful people.
“Let’s eat,” Matt said, taking her hand and drawing her from the thoughts and toward the kitchen. “And you can tell me all about your new client.”
