The Last Lie Told (Finley O’Sullivan, #1)(40)

The brush Bethany had been holding hit the table. She whirled around. “What?”

The blonde hair was the same as her father’s, only longer and without the streaks of gray. The gold eyes she’d gotten from her mother. Her father’s were more brown. Bethany was tall and thin and looked as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks. The wedding preparations, no doubt.

“You and Cecelia were close friends at the time of her father’s murder, and we’re attempting to determine if you played any part in her interactions with Holmes.”

A deer-in-the-headlights expression claimed Bethany’s face, then she blinked. “I . . . I . . . know you.”

Oops. They’d never actually carried on a conversation, but they had passed in the hallowed corridors of her father’s domain. “We’ve met,” Finley agreed.

“At my father’s office. You work for him.”

Good. Finley smiled without answering. “I’m sure he has discussed the Holmes situation with you.”

Bethany grabbed her bottled water and moved to the sofa. Collapsed there as if the fitting had worn her out. “He did. I’m not supposed to talk to anyone about it.”

“I hope you’re following that order. There will be reporters and all sorts of people trying to get a sound bite from you considering you and Cecelia were best friends at the time.”

“He told me.” The fear and surprise were gone, and impatience had taken its place.

Finley wandered to the sofa and settled at the opposite end. “He’s trying to protect you.”

“Trust me,” she said, “I’m aware. I’ve spent most of my life listening to his lectures about what we can and cannot do in public.”

“Cecelia mentioned that the two of you had a number of pretty exciting adventures your senior year in high school.”

Bethany grinned. “We did some wild shit, for sure. My father would die if he knew half the stuff we did.” She seemed to catch herself. “I was immature. I would never do those things now.” A frown tugged at her face. “How is Cecelia? I haven’t heard from her in years. She like never leaves the house.”

“She doesn’t, no,” Finley confirmed. “Right now, she’s struggling with the accusations Holmes has made.”

“She liked playing with fire,” Bethany said. “We both did, really. But Cecelia wasn’t afraid of anything. She watched him, you know.”

Finley shrugged one shoulder. She needed Bethany to say his name, but she couldn’t lead the witness, and she certainly didn’t want to appear overeager and trigger her suspicions. “You’re curious at that age.”

“But watching your father do shit is bizarre. I swear Cecelia was so jealous of him. It was weird. I was happy to go along for the ride. Her father was hot.”

Father? Not the answer Finley had expected. She’d thought they were talking about Holmes. Still, the response was certainly an intriguing one.

“Was it her jealousy of her father that prompted her to start up a relationship with Holmes? It’s not so unusual for a young girl to be attracted to older men.”

Bethany glanced at her phone, then at Finley. “She didn’t have any sort of relationship with Holmes.” She looked away. “He’s lying. We didn’t know him. Did Cecelia say she knew him?”

Lie number one. Not only had she looked away, her voice had changed ever so slightly.

“No, she says not, but it was important to confirm her claim.”

“You should talk to her mother,” Bethany said. “She was the one Cecelia confided in most.”

Deflection. A common tactic for shifting attention or blame.

“Maybe it was Olivia who was infatuated with Holmes. She could have pretended to be Cecelia.”

Bethany scoffed. “Olivia never talked to anyone. She’s a strange one.”

Finley shifted her own tactic. “It’s possible Cecelia may not have told you she was talking to Holmes.”

Bethany shot her a look. “Trust me, whatever Cecelia was doing, I knew about it. We told each other everything. She would have bragged about it to me.”

Finley decided not to push any further. She didn’t want to make her suspicious. It was better to leave the door open for more questions. “I should be going.” She stood. “Keep what your father told you in mind. You shouldn’t talk to anyone about the Legard family. We have to control the situation. Just like last time.”

“God, you sound exactly like him. He kept me under his thumb so tight last time I couldn’t breathe.”

“This too shall pass,” Finley promised.

“I hope it passes fast. I want to be happy right now. We’re planning my wedding.”

“I understand.”

“I can deal with it if he’ll stay off my back. I get it. I can’t let anyone find out I was with Cecelia that night. Especially now.”

“He doesn’t want you dragged into this,” Finley offered, her pulse picking up speed with this new revelation. “Especially now.”

“Well, you can tell him,” she said with a knowing look, “that he doesn’t have to send any more spies snooping around. I’m not telling anyone anything.”

Except she had. “I’ll tell him.”