The Last Lie Told (Finley O’Sullivan, #1)(69)

At this point she fully expected any and all things that came out of the twins’ mouths to be lies.

Finley tucked her spiral along with her cell into her bag. For what came next she needed different transportation. She pushed away from her car and started toward the garage. Across the street, Helen Roberts stood in the yard watering her plants the way she did every day, sometimes twice. Finley waved. Roberts threw up a hand in a sort of nonwave.

As strange as she thought the woman was, she imagined that Roberts thought she was a little on the strange side too. Maybe a lot.



Riverbend Maximum Security Prison

Cockrill Bend Boulevard

Nashville, 12:30 p.m.

Finley didn’t get another deep breath until she parked behind the prison commissary. She shut off the truck’s engine and thanked her lucky stars she’d made it with no issues. Derrick’s truck hadn’t been taken out of the garage in a year. It was a straight-up miracle the tires weren’t flat and the battery wasn’t dead.

She’d had no tail when she left her neighborhood and didn’t pick one up on the route to the prison. If Siniard sent his minion to check up on her, he would find her car parked in her driveway.

Jack didn’t need to worry—she had this.

Mickey was waiting for her at the docks. He gave her a nod and passed her a badge. The name on it was Jenny Schultz.

“You ever done any nursing?” he asked as he guided her inside and to a place where she could change clothes.

“No, but I’ve spent enough time in hospitals and rehabs to have an idea what they do.” This was sadly very true.

He grinned. “You’ll do fine. Besides, Doc West is a big flirt. Just smile, and he’ll overlook any mistake you make. If he’s not in there when you arrive, then he’s probably off for a smoke.”

Finley wasn’t worried. Unless there was an emergency surgery, she could handle most anything thrown her way.

The staff restroom was clean and utilitarian, and there was a locker where Finley found a pair of scrubs. She changed and stowed her bag. She tidied her ponytail, added a little lip gloss for the doctor’s benefit, and she was ready.

Mickey left her at the infirmary door. She took a breath and went inside. As an investigator, there were times when she had to adopt a different persona. This should be particularly interesting. Inside, the large space was empty. As Mickey had said, the doctor was likely visiting a designated area for a few puffs.

While she was alone, she walked around the room and familiarized herself with where the various items were stored. By the time the doctor showed up, it was time for the inmate’s appointment, and she had a reasonably good handle on the layout of the room.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Schulz.” West looked her up and down as if he could see beyond the boxy scrubs.

“Doctor.” She smiled. “I’m thrilled to be working with you.”

A big grin claimed his face. Before he could say more, the door opened and two guards escorted Holmes into the room. Finley busied herself inventorying the items arranged neatly on the counter while Holmes was settled into a chair, his shackles attached to the floor. Once he was secure, the guards stepped back outside the door to wait.

The prisoner gave Finley a once-over before cutting his eyes away. He didn’t look that different from the five-year-old media images she had seen. Long, unruly dark hair, sort of curly but mostly just tangled looking. He had those really light blue eyes. Good cheekbones, strong jaw. He had all the right features to draw in the young and the naive.

Dr. West went about his examination, and Finley acted attentive, though her services really weren’t needed. Holmes was complaining of lower-back pain and requesting pain medication. She imagined there was a significant number of calls for pain meds among inmates.

The doctor assured Holmes he would check his file and see what he could do. He stepped into his office and closed the door. Through the window in the door, Finley watched him open a file and sit down at his desk to review.

“I haven’t seen you before.”

This was the first time Holmes had spoken directly to her.

“I haven’t seen you before either.” She busied herself with reorganizing the instruments on the tray next to the exam table.

“But I know who you are,” he said, his voice low, for her ears only.

“I know who you are too,” she said with a nod.

“You’re that lawyer whose husband was murdered last year. You work for Jack Finnegan.”

The man watched the news. Give him a gold star. She looked him dead in the eye. “Are you going to rat me out, Charlie?”

He sniggered. “No way. I’m having too much fun.”

“Well, that’s good. Maybe you’d like to tell me about this game you’re playing.”

He produced a properly put-off expression. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His face shifted into one of regret or sadness. “I sure hated to hear about Sophia Legard. Life has been hard on her. Bless her heart. I told y’all Cecelia was a bad one. She’s the whole reason I’m in here. Anybody who would wish their own parent dead is pure evil.”

Finley barely restrained the urge to roll her eyes. She felt confident he was well aware what evil looked like. He saw it in the mirror each time he looked. “Why did you target the Legard family?”