Page 35 of All the Little Truths

He gave her a nod. “All right, then. Have a seat.”

She settled into the one chair in front of his desk. Placed her bag on the floor at her feet. He dropped into his chair and braced his forearms on his desk. Ready to do battle.

“I’m all yours,” he said with a wicked grin.

“Tell me about some of your ongoing projects.”

Confusion flashed on his face before he was able to banish it. “Let’s see.” His brow lined in thought as he surveyed a whiteboard mounted on the wall to the right of his desk. “If you’ll have a gander at my board, you can see we’re working with a partner developer on a new restaurant on McKennie Avenue next to the Wash—that former car wash turned eatery. Then we have a small mixed-use development over on the north side of the city. Several smaller office spaces scattered all over Nashville and Brentwood.” His attention settled fully back on her then. “Of course, we have more of those older warehouses we’re hoping to offload to other developers.”

“Impressive.” Finley reached into her bag and retrieved her notepad and a pen. “I’d like you to walk me through a few things.”

“As I said, I’m all yours.” He leaned back in his chair.

“On the day of Lucy Cagle’s murder,” she began, “take me through your schedule to the best of your memory.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then nodded. “At the time I wasn’t aware it was a particularly important day, so my memory may not be perfect. But after Ian disappeared and the police started asking questions, I made it a point to go back and look at my calendar.”

Finley waited, pen ready, for him to go on.

“Pop and I were here, at the office, that morning.” He glanced around the room. “This was his office back then.” He pointed to the wall of framed photos and certificates. “Those are some of the bigger deals he made over the years. A few of the awards from the city and the Chamber of Commerce he received. He did a lot of good for this city in his time.”

“How’s he doing?” Finley asked. He was dying. The more appropriate question would have been “Is he comfortable,” but his son might not appreciate the pointed query.

“As best as can be expected, I guess. The doc says he’s got maybe another couple of months at best. As long as we can keep him out of pain until then, we’ll be doing all we can for him.”

“I’m sure he appreciates that you’re here for him.”

A nod, then, “He’s still grieving losing Ian.” Anger flared on his face. “I don’t get how the bastard could do that to him. Just disappear and never come back.”

“Do you think his decision to disappear was related to one or more of your business deals?”

He exhaled a big breath. “It’s possible. Pop made some backroom deals with some very bad people back in the day. I’ve tried to separate from that kind of business over the past few years. They say we can shed our past like a snake sheds its skin, but it’s not as easy as it sounds. Trust me.”

“So the day Lucy was murdered, you began your day here in the office.”

“I did. We had a conference call with a couple of builders. Went over upcoming jobs that were scheduled for completion. It was a Friday, so we generally made it a light workday.”

“Did you hear from Ian that day?”

“When I went home that evening, he was getting ready for a date. Pop was pissed at him for not showing up at the office. My wife—at the time—and I left about seven to go to dinner. The two of them, Pop and Ian, were having a big-ass fight in the living room.” He shrugged. “Wasn’t unusual, so my wife and I didn’t think much of it.”

“Where did you go to dinner?”

“Jimmy Kelly’s Steakhouse.” He grinned. “The best steak in Music City.”

Finley knew the place. Who didn’t? It was a Nashville icon.

“Our waiter—that’s what Shelia and I called him—is still there. Teddy Withers. I always thought he had a thing for my wife, but turns out he prefers men. I guess that’s why I like him so much. I can take the women I date there for dinner and never worry about the waiter.”

Finley lifted an eyebrow at him. “Is there a story that goes with that fear?” Paranoia, really, but she doubted he would have appreciated her analysis.

He made a face, laughed. “Yeah. I took my girlfriend—the one before my wife, ex-wife—to Skull’s Rainbow Room, and she went to the bathroom in the middle of the meal, and when she stayed gone too long, I went to check on her. She was in the damned ladies’ room getting it on with our waiter.” He shook his head and muttered “Damn bitch.”

“You were in the office most of the day,” Finley said, moving on. “Then went home and took your then wife to dinner. What time did you go home?”

“We were home by eleven. We had dinner at Jimmy Kelly’s and then drinks at the Corner Bar on Elliston and Twenty-Second.”

“How were things when you arrived back home?”

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