“Something wrong?” Matt moved in beside her.
“Is that . . . ?” She pointed to the face she was certain belonged to her client.
He looked from the photograph to Finley. “Sophia Legard. I didn’t know she and the Judge were friends.”
“Neither did I.” Finley’s cell vibrated. She fished it out, her attention still glued to the images in that photograph. She glanced at her cell. Jack’s name scrolled across the screen. “It’s Jack. I’ll catch up with you,” she said to Matt.
He gave her a nod and headed back down to the party.
“Hey, boss, you are not going to believe what I just found.”
“I need you to come to the Legard house now.”
The hollowness of his voice told her something was very, very wrong. A frown tugged at her face. “What’s going on?”
“Come now, Fin. Right now.”
“On my way.”
Rather than track Matt down, she sent him a text. She walked out of the house and had reached the cobblestones when someone stepped into her path.
Briggs.
She drew up short. He said nothing, only glared at her.
“Is there something you need, Mr. Briggs?”
“Stay away from my daughter,” he said softly, but the look on his face, in his eyes, was anything but soft. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you’d better watch your step, O’Sullivan.”
“I’m doing my job, sir. I haven’t broken any laws.” That anyone knew about, anyway.
“You ambushed her. Allowed her to think you still worked for me.”
“If that’s what she thought, she reached that conclusion on her own. I never said I still worked for you.”
“I gave you a shot,” he said, fury humming in his words, “and you threw it away. We’re all keeping eyes on you now.”
“Good. Maybe you’ll learn something.”
Finley walked around him. She had no more time for his blustering.
Jack needed her.
22
3:20 p.m.
Legard Residence
Lealand Lane
Nashville
The gate was open in anticipation of her arrival.
Finley rolled through. Parked. Jack’s Land Rover was there. No other vehicles in front of the house. No cops. That could be a good sign. Maybe whatever had gone down wasn’t the worst-case scenario.
She climbed out of her Subaru and headed to the front door, all the while wishing these shoes were in hell. Her feet were killing her. When she was halfway across the veranda, the front door opened.
Olivia stood on the threshold looking like a wrongly convicted prisoner who’d just been released.
Suddenly Finley wanted to grab her and shake the hell out of her. Why hadn’t she been answering her phone? Why wasn’t she at her hotel last night?
“Hurry.” Olivia, oblivious to Finley’s fury, motioned for her to come inside.
The door slammed shut behind her. Finley turned to the younger woman. “I called you like ten times last night and this morning. What the hell, Olivia?”
She stared at Finley as if she had no idea what she was upset about.
Before she could stop herself, Finley let her have it. “I spoke to the woman who was listed as your roommate at USC. She never heard of you. You want to explain that?”
“What?” Olivia shook her head as if Finley had spoken some foreign language she didn’t understand.
“Holly Thompson.”
Olivia made a confused face. “Who’s Holly Thompson?”
Before Finley could calm enough to answer, Olivia shrugged. “My roommate was Tanya Smallwood. I don’t know any Holly Thompson.”
Finley’s fury fizzled. “Why does your file at USC say your roommate was Holly Thompson?” Nita had gotten the information directly from a source at the university.
Olivia’s head moved side to side. “I have no idea. A mistake of some sort.”
Shit. Finley took a breath. “We’ll figure that out later. What’s going on? Where’s Jack?” And what the hell was he doing here without her? Finley kept the last to herself.
“Come with me.” Olivia grabbed her by the arm and ushered her through the house until they reached the kitchen. Jack was there. Seated at the island with his head in his hands.
Finley’s gut wrenched. “What’s going on, Jack?”
He lifted his head, met Finley’s gaze.
“Mother’s dead,” Olivia blurted before Jack could respond.
Had there been an accident? “What happened? Where’s Cecelia?”