The Judge.
“What the hell?”
Finley parked in her drive and took a long, deep breath. Her mother had never been to this house before, at least not to Finley’s knowledge. Being in the neighborhood at all would likely have the Judge in hives. For a minute or so Finley sat right where she was. Getting out would set off a chain reaction that couldn’t possibly end well.
Her mother broke before she did. The driver’s side door opened, and the Judge herself popped out and headed up the walk. She still wore the rose dress from her party. Finley exhaled a long breath and then did what she had to do. She got out of her car and faced the woman who gave birth to her.
This was as good a time as any to ask her about the photograph.
“Did you get bored with your party?” Finley hadn’t meant to sound like a smart-ass, but there it was.
“We need to talk.”
Finley walked to the porch, unlocked the door, and went inside. The Judge followed. The next fifteen or twenty seconds elapsed with the Judge surveying the shabby living room with its stained and cracked ceiling and worn-out furniture.
“Why are you here?” Finley asked at last. And where was Dad? The only way he wouldn’t have come with her was if she hadn’t told him her destination.
The Judge’s attention settled on Finley. “Why on earth are you still living in this place?”
“Well, Mother, this is my home.”
She made a face. “Your condo is your home. This is . . .” She glanced around again. “Some sort of penance.”
Finley wasn’t wasting another second with whatever this was. “Why didn’t you disclose that you and Sophia Legard are friends?” The Judge obviously had not heard about the murder. Finley would hold on to that news for a minute.
The Judge looked taken aback. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“The photo on the stairs,” Finley clarified. “One of your precious preservation committees. You and Sophia are standing arm in arm and all smiles for the camera.”
The Judge considered her accusation for a moment, then frowned. “I know who she is, and we have served on various committees together over the years, but I wouldn’t call her a friend. More like an acquaintance.”
Whatever. It wasn’t like Finley could ask Sophia. “She’s dead,” she said bluntly. “Murdered. I just left the scene.”
If she’d expected her mother to show some sort of emotion, Finley had been kidding herself.
“When we’re finished here,” the Judge announced, “I’ll call Chief Lawrence in regard to your somber news.”
“What do you want?” As far as Finley was concerned, they were finished now.
“You and Jack are in over your heads.” The Judge’s dark eyes, a perfect match to Finley’s, probed for a reaction.
“Jack is one of the best attorneys in the state,” Finley countered. “He is far from in over his head.”
“He’s an alcoholic who has already seen his best days. You—by association—are ruining any hope of turning your career around.”
“This is my career. I’m an investigator for Jack’s firm.” Finley worked hard at keeping her emotions at bay, but it wasn’t easy. Anger hummed beneath her skin. Hurt, disappointment, and other emotions she refused to label tugged at her.
“You are just like your father. Fall once, and you’re down for the count. Grappling and taking whatever comes your way.”
Ah, the old “Dad could have done so much better for himself” lecture. How many times had Finley heard that one?
“I think Dad did exactly what he wanted to, and so am I. If you don’t agree with my choices, then that’s an issue you’ll have to work out for yourself.”
The Judge stared at her for another five count. She was a beautiful woman. Far more so than Finley would ever hope to be. High cheekbones. Wide eyes and a perfect nose. Hardly any lines on her perfect skin. Her hair was thicker and richer than Finley’s. Even at sixty she remained trim and fit. But it was the ice-cold heart that beat beneath all that beauty that pushed Finley away.
“Finley,” she said as if the analysis had been spoken aloud, “this case is only going to grow more complex and more stressful. Look at the events that have occurred just today. I really wish you would consider what’s best for you just once.”
Enough. “Since I’m certain this visit would be considered inappropriate, I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Judge.”