The Last Lie Told (Finley O’Sullivan, #1)(9)

“She asked me to represent her daughters.”

“Daughters? Holmes didn’t name which daughter supposedly lured him into this arrangement?” Legard had two daughters, his only children to Finley’s knowledge.

“According to Holmes it was Cecelia. The problem is the daughters are twins,” Jack explained. “Identical twins. Both deny the accusation. Sophia—Mrs. Legard—feels they will both need representation.”

“I see.” This could be interesting. Particularly since Jack appeared to have some sort of stake in the case beyond the usual “do whatever it takes to win.”

“We need to understand what sort of evidence—if any—Holmes has.”

Jack rubbed his temples. “His attorney has agreed to a meeting. We should know what we’re up against by the end of the day tomorrow. Meanwhile—”

“Meanwhile,” she interjected, “you’d like me to interview the twins for you.”

“I’ll be there, but I want you right beside me. No one is better at reading people than you, kiddo. If one or both of these girls—ladies—are lying, we need to know. I don’t like taking cases I can’t feel good about winning.”

But he would take this one, Finley wagered. This one was not just a case. That much was pretty clear.

“If one of them actually hired Holmes to murder the father,” she suggested, “we need a motive the jury will see as an act of self-defense.” There was murder, and then there was murder. If the father was abusing one or both daughters, then it wasn’t murder in the eyes of most anyone with a child of their own.

“Sophia stands by her daughters.” He frowned. “She also insists her husband was a devoted father.”

Her husband was dead—there was no changing that. Would she change her claims about her late husband if it meant saving one or both daughters? Definitely interesting. “Did you find her convincing?”

“For the most part. She’s rich, white, and well educated. She’ll need work to come off as sympathetic to a jury. But I’m convinced she’s telling what she believes to be the truth.”

“What about the daughters?”

“I didn’t talk to them.” He shrugged. “We have a meeting with the mother and both daughters at nine tomorrow morning in the Legard home. Olivia is flying in from San Diego. She moved away for college shortly after the trial, and she’s lived in California since. Single, no children. Cecelia, on the other hand, has remained at home, living with her mother. Didn’t attend college. She’s also single. No kids. I’ve got Nita digging up whatever she can find on the two. Friends, work and school history. Criminal records, if any.”

It was possible Cecelia had been closer to her mother and felt she needed to take care of her rather than flying the coop. Olivia may have simply wanted her freedom. Just because they were twins on the outside didn’t mean their inner hopes and dreams were in any way similar.

“The files from the original investigation,” Jack said, drawing her attention back to him, “should have been delivered to the office today.”

She would check with Nita, then stop back by the office and pick them up if they’d been delivered. “Do we know who’s representing Holmes?”

“That’s the icing on the cake. Theodore Siniard.” Jack grimaced. “There’s something about that guy. He gets under my skin. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him. He’s a snake in the grass.”

Finley opted not to point out that plenty of his colleagues considered Jack a snake. But he was right about Siniard. He was a little oilier than most. How the hell had Holmes managed to land Siniard? The Legard name, she supposed.

“When you speak to your father, don’t mention this case. I’d like to see how this shakes down before the news that I’m representing the Legards gets out.”

Finley eyed her boss speculatively. Well, well . . . the stakes had just risen to the next level. “So, my mother is the judge who drew the case.”

“I’m hoping she’ll recuse herself,” Jack offered.

Not a chance. Her mother would die first. “I won’t hold my breath on that one.”

“When there’s nothing else, Fin, there’s always hope.”

She wasn’t holding her breath on that either.

This felt like the perfect opportunity. She went for it. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened between you and the Judge?”

His silver eyes narrowed to slits. “You kick a guy when he’s vulnerable, do ya?” He grunted. “And they call me ruthless.”

“I should get to work,” she said rather than waste time arguing an unwinnable case. “You need to go by the office on your way home and take your penance.”

He groaned. “I haven’t had a drink in nearly five years. Don’t I get credit for not screwing up my record?”

“Sure. It’s the disappearing act that has you on Nita’s bad side. You should have called.”

He growled. “We’ve worked together for a lot of years—this is the first time I have failed to call.”

“Even if you’re a model citizen your whole life,” Finley reminded him, “and then you kill someone, you’re still a murderer.”