The Last Lie Told (Finley O’Sullivan, #1)(61)

There she went, shifting blame again.

“We’ll search the house once more, and then we’re calling this in.” Finley hesitated. “What about the cameras? Doesn’t your security system have cameras?”

Olivia nodded. “I checked the system. Hoping to learn what happened. But the cameras were turned off.”

Of course they were. Finley turned to Jack. “You stay put. I don’t want you dropping so much as a hair anywhere else in this house.”

He didn’t argue with her. Just sat down and pressed his palms together as if he might pray. Too damned late for that too.

Finley kept Olivia with her as they moved through the massive home. Olivia’s former room was like Finley’s at the Belle Meade house—just a room with no personality other than a random photo here and there of the twins. Cecelia’s room, on the other hand, would have made a great episode of Hoarders. Stuff—clothes, soiled dishes, towels—was everywhere. The bed was piled high with photo albums and more stuff save for a narrow place on the right side where she presumably slept. There was no television. No radio. No phone.

“Did you find Cecelia’s cell phone?”

“It’s not here.”

Finley faced her. “Have you ever known your sister to leave the house?”

Olivia hesitated.

“I’m asking if she’s truly agoraphobic or if the illness is a cover.”

Olivia looked away. “I’m not entirely sure.”

Lie.

“Don’t lie to me again,” Finley warned.

“I believe she has left when it suited her. In my opinion the agoraphobia thing is the way she kept Mother under control.”

Maybe not the whole truth, but part of it. “All right, let’s keep going.”

Half an hour later it was clear Cecelia was not in the house or the attached garages. Another twenty minutes were necessary to check the pool house and detached garage as well as the gardening shed.

Back in the kitchen, Finley explained to the younger woman what would be happening next. “The police will want to question you. Jack will be with you throughout the questioning. He’ll let you know when to talk and when not to. If he speaks, you be quiet. Do not give any additional information. Answer the question asked as concisely as possible. If you don’t know the answer, say so.”

Olivia nodded. “I remember from last time.”

Jesus Christ. This was going to be a shit show.

Finley ushered Olivia to the small table in the kitchen and had her sit. Then she grabbed Jack by the arm and prodded him into the massive entry hall.

“Are you up for this?”

He worked up a glare and directed it at her. “I’m fine. It’s just—”

“This whole thing is a bad idea, Jack. You are personally involved and—”

“Sometimes you can’t help being personally involved. Shit happens.”

Okay, so she couldn’t argue the point. She heaved a breath. “All right.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. This is just . . .”

“Yeah, well, time to call it in. Am I doing it, or are you?”

He reached for his cell. She put a hand on his to stop him. “I’ll do it.” She started to suggest he keep Olivia calm, but frankly, she seemed calmer than anyone in the house other than the dead woman upstairs.

Finley stepped out onto the veranda and made the call. Her next call was to Matt. She didn’t want him blindsided by this. He wanted to rush over, but they both recognized that would be a mistake.

The ambulance arrived first. Someone had to do the official call on the victim’s status. Two police cruisers arrived next and began the protocol of securing the scene. When the detectives arrived, Olivia and Finley were separated and interviewed individually. Then Jack had his turn. Luckily, neither of the detectives was one Finley had pissed off recently.

By the time the questioning was over, a flock of reporters had gathered outside the gate. Leaving would be a bitch.

When the time to exit came, uniformed officers backed the reporters away from the gate so Finley could leave. Olivia was in the back seat with a blanket over her so they wouldn’t be followed. Jack left right behind her and took a different route. Since he was the representing attorney, hopefully any ambitious reporters would follow him.

When they were far enough away and no one had followed, Finley gave Olivia a task. “You can sit up for now. I want you to call the security company. If possible, find out the times the house was entered and exited today using the security code. And find out when the cameras were shut down.”

One of those detectives would be doing that very thing, if he hadn’t already. The fewer steps she and Jack were behind, the better.

As Olivia sat up, the blanket shifted off her face. “If she hasn’t changed the pin number, I can.”

“Give it a shot,” Finley urged as she focused on driving. “And don’t lie to me, Olivia. I will be confirming whatever you tell me.”

Olivia made the call. Finley mentally crossed her fingers. They needed that information.

By the time she reached Olivia’s hotel, she was fairly confident they had no tails. Olivia had recalled the property pin—her parents’ wedding anniversary—and passed along the information obtained to Finley. Meanwhile Finley had called the hotel manager, and he’d given her instructions on the best way to get Olivia to her room. Rather than pull up in front of the hotel entrance, she drove into the garage and parked in the staff parking area. She escorted Olivia inside through a service entry. Security had blocked the corridor and monitored the service elevator to ensure no one had boarded ahead of them.