Two very good questions for the twins.
Assuming they found Cecelia. And she was still alive.
Finley called Jack as she climbed in and pointed her Subaru in the direction of home. She brought him up to speed on what the CSI team had found—or, more accurately, what they hadn’t found. While she had him on the phone, she told him about the Judge’s unexpected visit. Jack immediately launched into a monologue about how this was just further proof that the Judge actually cared about Finley. Rather than listen, she pondered how it was that she and the Judge could have nothing in common. Couldn’t see a single thing through the same lens. Most daughters had issues with their mothers during puberty and the emotional roller-coaster ride of the teenage years. But Finley and her mother’s issues had magnified only after all that. While Finley was away at school, it wasn’t so bad. They rarely saw each other or had time for calls. Her mother had been anointed with her robes, and Finley had been buried in exams. When Finley returned to Nashville to begin her career, things had gone downhill.
If not for her dad and the occasional case that landed on the Judge’s docket, she and her mother would likely never see each other at all anymore.
Finley ended the call as she turned into her own driveway, and she was damned tired. It had been a long day. She put the car in park and shut off the engine, then reached for the door.
“I need your help.”
Finley froze. Her gaze shot to the rearview mirror.
Cecelia Legard sat up in her back seat, the same blanket her sister had used for hiding pulled around her.
What the hell?
Finley tightened her hold on the door handle to prevent lunging over the seat and shaking the woman. There were many answers she wanted, but first things first. “Are you injured?”
“No . . . just scared.”
“Do you know something about what happened to your mother?”
“No,” she wailed. “It wasn’t me. I’ve been hiding all day. I didn’t know what to do after I found her. I panicked and went into my place.”
“Your place?” Finley had searched the house and the grounds.
“In the attic there’s a maintenance room. It’s climate controlled like the rest of the house. I discovered it when I was a kid. I used to hide there to smoke.”
“Did Olivia ever go there with you?” Finley would be pretty pissed if she learned Olivia had known about the hiding place and ignored it during their search.
“No. Just me. That’s how I knew I’d be safe there. No one knew about it.”
“I searched for you,” Finley said. “Why didn’t you come out then? I called your name over and over.”
“You can’t hear anything in there. It’s like soundproof or something.”
Made a sort of sense. If the home’s heating and cooling systems were part of the maintenance area, then there would certainly be soundproofing.
“When I dared to sneak out and have a look, the police were everywhere. The last time I came out to look around, I saw your car. I figured it was my one chance to escape. I . . . I wrapped my arms around my head and made a mad dash to your car and hid under the blanket.”
“You should have come out and spoken to the police. They’re looking for you,” Finley warned. “They’re running your photo on the news and social media asking that anyone who sees you call it in.”
Cecelia leaned forward, her lips trembling. “I’m telling you,” she cried softly, “I didn’t do this. I’m running for my life.”
“Let’s go inside,” Finley said. “We can talk, and you’ll be safe.”
“Thank you.”
Finley got out of the car and walked to the door. The idea that she should call the police flitted through her mind, but her need to hear the rest of what Cecelia had to say overwhelmed any concern for the rules or her own safety.
Cecelia was slower getting out. She was cloaked in the blanket like a swaddled baby; only her head was covered too. She made her way to the porch, bumping into anything in her path. When she was inside, Finley closed and locked the door.
“Have you eaten? You need water?”
Cecelia burrowed into the sofa, still swaddled in her blanket. “I’m not hungry.”
“You need water whether you eat or not.”
Finley grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and joined her on the sofa. She placed the water on the table and turned to Cecelia. “Tell me what happened.”
“I got up this morning, and Mother wasn’t in the kitchen. I made coffee and sat at the island and waited for her. But she never came down. I called up to her, but she didn’t answer. So I went to her room . . .”