Finley returned the gesture.
“Sit wherever you like.” Sophia announced this as she settled on the sofa near her daughter.
Jack waited for Finley, who chose the chair directly across from Cecelia. Finley asked, “Olivia will be joining us as well?”
Cecelia flinched at her sister’s name.
Jack took the chair neighboring Finley’s while Sophia sat in silence, apparently grappling for a response to the question.
“Olivia prefers to meet with you . . . privately,” Sophia said with only one stumble. “At her hotel. It’s still difficult for her to be here.”
Jack nodded. “Whatever works best for her. I’m sure she’s feeling a bit jet-lagged this morning.”
“We could reschedule,” Finley offered, “if you prefer to do this together.”
Cecelia looked up, her gaze locking with Finley’s. “She won’t come here. She hates this house. Hates us.”
Her voice was oddly rusty, as if she rarely used it. She looked away as suddenly as she’d spoken. The hope for an honest and revealing response was the reason Finley had made the suggestion.
“She doesn’t hate us, Cecelia.” Sophia rolled her eyes and gave her head a little shake. “She’s lived away for years now. This doesn’t feel like home anymore. She’s more comfortable in her own space.”
Cecelia’s fingers tightened so hard around each other they turned a bright white blotched with red. “I’m sure you’re right, Mother.”
“I’m certain,” Finley offered in an effort to lessen the tension, “this is a very painful time for all of you.”
“Having this nightmare ripped open again can’t be easy,” Jack added. “It was painful enough the first time.”
Finley barely kept the frown off her face. How would he know how painful it had been for the family? Was his comment only a sympathetic gesture?
“It is unconscionable, and yet, here we are.” Sophia pressed Finley with a stern glare as if she were the one who’d spoken. “Jack assures me you are the very best investigator on his staff. He’s quite convinced you’ll be able to get to the bottom of whatever this horrible man is up to.”
Finley wasn’t surprised that Jack had presented her in this way. Particularly since she was his only investigator. Besides, he couldn’t exactly tell the woman that part of Finley’s job was to determine whether or not one or more of the three Legard women was lying.
She glanced at him now. “He trusts my instincts, yes. We’ll do all we can to resolve this matter quickly for you and your family.”
“I’m astonished this charade has gotten this far.” Sophia executed another of those brisk shakes of her head. “It’s ludicrous.”
“As I explained yesterday,” Jack said, “there are protections built into the law to shelter those who are in fact innocent. Occasionally those protections are taken advantage of. Rest assured, if Mr. Holmes is lying, we will find out.”
Cecelia flinched once more. This time at the sound of the man’s name.
“Of course he’s lying,” Sophia said sharply. “You know as well as I do, he’s a monster. You remember what it was like last time.”
Jack definitely had some explaining to do. Since Sophia was so focused on Jack, Finley kept her attention on the daughter.
More knotting of Cecelia’s fingers. Her nails were chewed to nothing more than nubs. She wore no makeup. Had scarcely brushed her hair. Finley suspected her mother had chosen the dress. Cecelia seemed more like a twelve-year-old than a woman of twenty-three.
“I remember it all too well,” Jack agreed. “Our goal is to disprove his every assertion and to discredit whatever evidence he presents.”
“Has his attorney provided this so-called evidence?” Sophia demanded.
“We’ll have more on the evidence later today,” Jack promised, charm oozing from him. “For now, let’s go over some of the assertions he’s made.”
Both women waited for him to go on. Sophia watching Jack closely; Cecelia studying her own hands.
Jack generally preferred Finley do the preliminary questioning, so she began. “Cecelia, did you have any sort of contact with Charles Holmes before or after your father’s death?”
All three women had insisted in testimony at trial that they had not known Holmes. There had been no motivation for investigating their claims. Holmes had confessed, and not once had he mentioned having been associated with anyone in the family. The act had been a random, spur-of-the-moment event. An impulse.