Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead(Finlay Donovan #2)(71)

“Do you have someone you can call?” A muscle worked in his jaw. “An attorney?”

“Do I need one?”

Nick’s lips thinned as he handed me his phone and turned away. Arms folded, he leaned against the two-way mirror. My heart stuttered when I thought of my children waking up in the morning without me.

I dialed Julian’s number. Part of me hoped he wouldn’t answer. The other part of me nearly cried out with relief when he did. Glasses clinked over the loud hum of conversation in the background.

“Hello?” Julian asked cautiously, as if he recognized the number. He and Nick had spoken before, when Nick had been questioning witnesses during the Mickler investigation at The Lush.

“Hey, it’s Finlay,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. A long beat of silence followed. The background noise of the bar hushed to a soft murmur before falling away, as if he’d stepped outside.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.”

“Where are you?”

My eyes lifted to Nick’s. He pushed off the wall, his movements stiff as he left the room, the door swinging closed behind him.

“I need a favor,” I said, my throat thick. “I’m at the police station. I need a lawyer. I didn’t know who else to call.” I couldn’t face my sister. Not yet.

“Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?” Julian’s voice was tense.

“I can’t really talk about it right now.”

“Finlay, I haven’t even finished law school. I can’t represent you.”

“I know. And I would never ask you to do that. But I thought maybe you’d know a defense attorney? Someone who could help me tonight?”

He swore quietly. “Let me make a few calls. Are you going to be all right? Do you need me to come pick you up?” Another question lingered in the subtext. Were they going to let me go? Or would they keep me here?

“I’m okay. I’ll find a ride home.” I lifted my head as the door cracked open and Nick stepped inside. “Thank you,” I whispered and disconnected, careful to delete the record of the call from the phone before sliding it across the table toward Nick. I pressed my mouth closed until the silence was too much to take. “How did you know it was me?” I asked.

He braced his hands against the table. The fluorescent lighting was harsh, revealing the thick, dark stubble on his jaw and the shadows under his eyes. “You flipped me off with your right hand. Kat’s a southpaw. And she wouldn’t be caught dead without her signet ring; it’s Feliks’s seal.” He worried his lip with his teeth. “If I’d known it was you, I wouldn’t have called for backup. What were you thinking, Finn?”

There was no right answer for that. Instead, I asked, “Does my sister know?”

He shook his head, his shoulders heavy. “She’s not going to.”

“What do you mean?”

“No one’s going to tell her.”

“How can you be sure?” There had been four cops with him when they caught me leaving the parking lot. This department gossiped around the watercooler like a bunch of politicians. Someone was bound to tell her. And when they did, she was going to bust that door down and throttle me herself. And then she’d tell our mother, which might actually be worse.

“No one’s going to talk about it,” Nick said. “Not you. Not me. And not any of the other officers who were with me.”

“Why?”

“Because we all agreed not to.” Nick pushed himself upright. “Lois Pyle has been with this department for thirty years. Her retirement party is next month. If anyone found out she let you in without checking your ID, she’d lose her job. None of us want to see that happen. If anyone asks, you were here conducting research for a book. It was all cleared with me ahead of time. Just a little role-play to get the full experience. That’s all.”

“Why would you do that? You could get in a lot of trouble.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I should.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “This is all my fault. If I hadn’t told you my suspicions about Feliks’s involvement yesterday, you never would have pulled a stunt like this. I swear, Finn, I’m handling it. We’ve already ruled out one suspect—”

“What suspect?”

His jaw locked, as if he was wrestling with how much to tell me. “Fauquier PD brought Bree Fuller in this morning for questioning. The security company said a woman triggered the security system in the trailer just before the fire. When the company called, the woman identified herself as Bree. The investigators thought they had an open-and-shut case, but apparently the real Bree had an alibi. Her parents confirmed she was home with them, watching TV. Her alibi was verified with a photo. Her mom had taken a picture of Bree and her dad in their living room that night, and Bree had posted it to her social media. The metadata from the original photo on Bree’s phone says it was taken around the same time the security company alerted the police to the fire.”

“So they still have no idea who started it?”

“That’s why I came in tonight. Lois Pyle knows a few people who work at the station in Fauquier County. I asked her to make a few calls for me. She said they released Bree about an hour ago. I promised you I’d keep an eye on things, and that’s what I’m doing. Now we know we’re dealing with a female suspect. And we know she has some intimate knowledge of Steven’s business and personal life. Given the fact that Theresa ditched her ankle monitor, and her best friend was reported missing by her husband, my money is on Theresa Hall and Aimee Reynolds.”