Page 90 of All the Little Truths

“For God’s sake, you know who it is.”

It couldn’t be. That was impossible ... it had been—

“I need your help,” she repeated.

No. No. No.This couldn’t be. “I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know how you got this number, but I’m hanging up now.”

“You haven’t changed your number in all this time.”

The breath left his lungs.

“You promised to help me if I ever needed it. I need it now.Rightnow.”

He nodded, sucked in a gulp of air and attempted to gather his wits about him. “All right.” He swallowed again. Fought the urge to vomit. “Tell me where you are, and I’ll come right away.”

26

Cagle Residence

Murfreesboro Road, Franklin, 11:55 a.m.

Finley had known Houser would take I-65 when they left Brewer’s house, so she had deliberately chosen Hillsboro Pike. When she was confident Houser hadn’t doubled back and followed her, she had put through a call to Maureen Downey.

Downey was meeting her at the Cagle house. One way or another, Finley intended to know what her father was hiding. Since he had so far refused to share whatever uncomfortable secret he harbored, Finley opted to move on to the next most likely source—Maureen Downey. No one had been closer to Louise Cagle. Their daughters had been best friends. And Finley’s father had met with Downey at least once this week. Made sense that Downey could potentially know the answer.

On some level Finley wondered if knowing would assuage the worry and dread tearing at her insides. She told herself repeatedly that it couldn’t possibly be so terrible.

Only one way to find out.

Finley entered the code and waited for the gate to open; then she rolled forward. She glanced around. Spotted what she hoped was Downey’s car. She checked her rearview mirror and ensured the gatehad closed. They should have the place to themselves. No code. No entrance. At least not via a vehicle.

After parking near the house, she climbed out and scanned the yard again. Matt and Houser had made her nervous.

No, that was wrong. The damned guy in the hoodie following her around had made her nervous.

Was it a good thing that she hadn’t seen him this morning?

Maybe.

But she wasn’t counting on him being gone for good. Not yet anyway.

Still, here she was, in a mostly isolated area. But it was broad daylight. And Downey was supposed to be around here somewhere.

Since she wasn’t in her car or anywhere that Finley could readily see, she moved on to the porch. The front door was partially open. Nerves jangling as the cold abruptly invaded her, Finley hesitated. She took a deep breath, held it and listened intently. No sound.

Just do it. Go in and see if she is in there.

Moving quietly, her gaze roving from left to right, Finley stepped through the door and into the entry hall.

No Downey.

Her heart thumped harder. Where the hell was she?

When she reached the door to the first parlor, Finley spotted her. Relief made her knees weak. Downey stood in the middle of the room staring at the painting of Lucy and her family hanging over the fireplace.

“Thanks for coming,” Finley said, announcing her presence.

Downey turned around slowly. She dabbed at her eyes. “Sorry. I was lost in thought.”

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