“You’re aware, of course, that Sophia Legard was murdered and Cecelia is missing. To the firm’s knowledge, she remains missing. As of this morning, Olivia is officially missing as well.”
Tanner and Barry shared a look, then Barry said, “We’ve had no report of Olivia Legard as a missing person.”
“I just reported it,” Finley said. “We searched for her all through the night, and I was just getting ready to come in and file the report when you showed up at my door.”
“So of your three clients,” Tanner suggested, “one is dead and two are missing.”
“Sadly, yes.”
“What did you and Mrs. Inglewood talk about?” Barry asked. “Specifically.”
“We talked about her relationship with Mr. Legard and her interactions with the family.” She’d already said that.
“Can you be more specific?” Barry pressed.
“No. My answer is sufficient.”
Another shared look between the partners.
“Can you talk to us about her answers?” Tanner asked.
“She worked for Mr. Legard. She occasionally saw his wife and his daughters either at the office or at his home.”
“Did she talk about any issues with Cecelia Legard?”
“No.”
“Was Sophia Legard aware of Inglewood’s affair with her husband?”
“I was referring to Mrs. Inglewood’s professional relationship with Mr. Legard.”
Tanner rolled his eyes. “Did Inglewood know if Sophia Legard was aware of the affair?”
“Any answer I provide to that question would have to be supposition.”
“Why were you and Inglewood talking on the front porch?” Barry wanted to know.
“She didn’t want to disturb her husband and son. The reopening of the case has been an unpleasant experience.”
“You’re stating for the record,” Barry said, “that no part of your conversation with Mrs. Inglewood was or could possibly be related to her disappearance?”
“No,” Finley said. “I’m stating that I have no idea if our conversation was related.”
“She could be a hostage of one or both of your clients,” Tanner suggested.
“She could have run away with the circus,” Finley offered.
The detectives weren’t happy with her answers. But it wasn’t her job to make them happy. After she’d signed her statement, she was free to go. Except her car was at home.
“Your ride is waiting in the visitor parking area,” Barry said when she asked. He opened the interview-room door and waited for her to exit.
“Thanks.”
She wound her way through the building toward the front entrance. Where the hell was Cherry? She wouldn’t have gone anywhere willingly without her son. It was possible she thought dropping out of sight would be best for her son and husband, but Finley doubted that was the case. More than anything else she wanted to protect her son and marriage.
Was she with Cecelia and/or Olivia?
Not if she was lucky.
Jack’s clients were looking less and less like victims of Charles Holmes’s delusions and more and more like clever perpetrators of something Finley feared was bad for all involved.
Finley thought of the mud on Olivia’s shoes and how it had rained the night after her mother’s body was discovered. That was the night Cecelia had disappeared from Finley’s house.
Images of digging around in her backyard whizzed one after the other through Finley’s mind.
What had Cecelia been wearing that night? Sneakers? Maybe the same ones Finley had spotted in Olivia’s closet at the hotel? Were the sneakers an attempt to frame her sister?
Who the hell knew?
Finley burst out the main entrance. Before she had time to consider what the hell else the twins were up to, Detective Eric Houser was walking toward her.
“I’m supposed to give you a ride home.”
A setup. Finley wasn’t surprised. Cops were the same as lawyers when it came to getting what they wanted. They weren’t above a little out-of-the-box ingenuity.
“I appreciate it.” She did. Mostly.
He led the way to his car. “I started the engine to cool the interior.”
She was grateful, because even at eleven in the morning it was hot as hell. She settled into the passenger seat. He slid into the driver’s seat and fastened his seat belt. She should do a background search on the guy. He was new to Metro. Where had he transferred in from? Married? Her gaze flitted to his hands on the steering wheel. No ring. Couldn’t be older than midthirties.