Page 65 of All the Little Truths

They left the office and exited the small building. At least small compared to all the other grand structures on the campus. The walk to the visual-arts building took only a few minutes. Garrison chatted the entire distance, pointing out the different buildings and other important features as if she were giving a campus tour. Finley suspected she hoped to prevent additional questions about Lucy. Most people were uncomfortable when it came to murder investigations. Who wouldn’t be?

Whatever Garrison’s reason, Finley did not pick up on any tells suggesting the woman was hiding information or lying. Her discomfort was not unusual, particularly considering the admitted competitiveness between her and the victim. Guilt was not always deserved but often a burden to carry nonetheless.

Finley thought about Johnson’s ex-wife’s statement and decided to get Garrison’s take on it. “Do you recall during senior year Lucy having taken on any babysitting jobs?”

Garrison stopped at a door marked “Custodial Services.” She laughed. “Ah, no. Lucy was a wonderful person, but she was extremely ambitious. Children were not on her radar in any capacity. She would never have even considered babysitting. And why would she? Her family was very wealthy, and the work certainly wouldn’t have added to her university résumé.” She smiled and knocked on the door. An “It’s open” echoed, and Garrison turned the knob and stepped inside. Finley followed.

The door entered into a good-size office that had two other doors on the far side, one marked as a lavatory and the other as a supply closet. An older man, seventyish, sat behind the desk. He peered over his glasses at them.

“Mr.Brewer, this is Finley O’Sullivan, she’s helping with the Lucy Cagle case. You may or may not know that it’s been reopened. She wanted to ask some questions about Lucy. Do you have a few minutes?”

He nodded. “I do.” To Finley, he said, “Have a seat.” He gestured to the molded-plastic chairs in front of his desk.

“I have to get to my office,” Garrison said. She smiled at Finley. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“Since you ask,” Finley said, “if you have an in with Natalie Williams, I would like to speak with her as well.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Garrison flashed a smile for Brewer and then left the office. Finley sat down in one of the chairs and placed her bag on the floor next to her feet.

“Thank you for taking the time to talk with me, Mr.Brewer.” There had been no mention of this man and his connection to Lucy in the part of the official case file she had received from Houser. Likewise,there had been nothing on Cagle’s case board about him. How was that possible, considering what Garrison had just told Finley?

“Call me Howard. Do you think you’ll be able to find Lucy’s killer this time?”

Finley opted not to take offense at his question. She wasn’t with Metro, and she had not participated in the previous investigation. She wasn’t even exactly participating in it this time. Not the way he likely thought anyway.

“I hope to find the truth about what happened to Lucy, yes.”

His eyes narrowed. “You sound like a PI instead of a cop.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said, evading his question.

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” he pointed out. “Others have tried.”

She wondered if he meant Bauer. “You and Lucy were friends. Can you tell me what you remember about her?”

“She had a good heart. A loving soul. She wasn’t full of herself, like most of these kids.” He seemed to catch himself. “No offense to any of them.” He took a breath and went on. “I watched Lucy grow up, and she was always good to everyone. Never unkind. Never got into trouble. They don’t come along every day like that. Lucy was special.”

Quite often when speaking of the dead—particularly those whose lives were stolen at such a young age—the ones left behind only remembered the best. Whether it was natural or by design, it was a point any good investigator kept in mind. But with Lucy those good memories appeared to be more consistent than usual. Perhaps she had been special.

Finley asked, “Did she talk to you about her life and things that were going on with her outside of school?”

He shrugged. “Not really, other than right after my wife passed. Mostly Lucy was just very kind to me.” He stared at his gnarled-with-age hands. “I should have watched out for her better.”

“How would you have done that?”

Surprise flared in his eyes. “I ... I don’t know. I suppose it’s just wishful thinking.”

“My goal, Howard,” Finley urged, noting the regret in his expression as well as his voice, “is to find out who did this. Anything you can tell me might help toward that end and would be greatly appreciated.”

He considered Finley for an extended moment. “There was a man she was talking to. A boyfriend, I guess. She was worried about getting too close to him.”

“Because a relationship would interfere with her education?”

He shook his head. “Because she feared her parents wouldn’t accept him.”

Finley got it. Been there, done that. “He wasn’t the kind of guy they saw their daughter ending up with.” His description fit with the idea that Lucy had a relationship with Ian Johnson—as his friends had stated.

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