“Fine with me,” Jack said. “The food there is great. If we lived in Athena, we’d be eating there a lot. Wanda Nell loved it the two times we ate there together.”
“The bistro it is,” I said. “It probably won’t be crowded now. After the churches let out, there’s often a wait for a table.”
We arrived a few minutes later, and I found a parking spot on the square across from the bistro. I didn’t see Helen Louise when we walked in. With Henry out, she was probably stuck in the kitchen. I hoped Henry had recovered and was back up to speed soon.
Jack and I both opted for a small salad and a serving of Helen Louise’s signature quiche Lorraine. I recommended a favorite wine of Helen Louise’s choosing. We each had one glass, though I could happily have had a second. With driving on the agenda in the immediate future, I had to limit myself to the one.
During the meal Jack and I talked about our strategy for tomorrow. I mentioned that I planned to bring Diesel with me, since he always accompanied me. “He can be an excellent icebreaker,” I said. “People are always curious about him because of his size, and since Elizabeth Barber is a vet tech, he might help us get her to talk.”
“I like that idea,” Jack said. “From what I’ve heard, he’s also a pretty good judge of character.”
“I’ve discovered that when he doesn’t want a person to touch him or won’t go near them, that’s an indicator there’s something off about that person. Interestingly, he seemed fine with Bill Delaney.” I paused for the final sip of my wine. “That’s the one thing that holds me back from utter conviction that he killed the Barbers.”
“That is interesting,” Jack said. “But he’s not one hundred percent infallible, surely.”
“No, he isn’t,” I said. “Every once in a while, he likes someone who turns out not to be a good person, but I like to think he senses something good in them.”
We soon finished our meal, and as always I was tempted by Helen Louise’s rich, delicious cakes and pastries, but Jack declined. His waistline, I noted, was much trimmer than mine, probably due in part to his turning down incredibly fattening desserts.
Helen Louise left the kitchen briefly while I stood at the counter paying the bill—over Jack’s objections, but I insisted. I introduced Jack, and then we had to go. The after-church crowd was arriving in full force, and Helen Louise had to get back to the kitchen.
We drove back to Leann Finch’s house, and this time there was a car, a large dark SUV, in the carport. I parked the car on the street in front of the house, and Jack and I headed up the walk toward the front door. When we were close enough I glanced over at the SUV. I remembered the make and the model of the vehicle that hit Bill Delaney, thanks to Frank. Dr. Finch’s SUV didn’t match.
Jack had his finger on the doorbell but he didn’t press it. “I hope she isn’t in the middle of a meal. If she is, she might be ticked off and refuse to talk to us.”
“There’s nothing we can do about that,” I said. “We’ll have to take our chances and hope that she will be cooperative.”
“Right.” Jack pressed the bell, and we waited.
No more than thirty seconds after Jack rang, the door opened. Leann Finch, dressed in knee-length shorts, a sleeveless blouse, and sandals, appeared not in the least surprised to see us. Perhaps she had spotted us coming up the walk and was prepared for us.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Finch,” I said.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Harris,” she replied. “What can I do for you?”
“We apologize for disturbing you at home on your day off,” I said, “but my friend, Jack Pemberton, and I would like to talk to you about my cousin, Bill Delaney, whom you treated in the ER yesterday.”
Dr. Finch frowned. “I can’t discuss a patient with you without the patient’s permission, Mr. Harris. Besides, he’s in the care of another physician now, who will know more about his status.”
“I should have been clearer,” I said. “We actually want to talk to you about my cousin’s past.”
“The Barber case,” Jack added.
“Why do you want to drag all that up?” Dr. Finch scowled. “It all happened a long time ago, and it’s best forgotten.” She stepped back in order to close the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”
“Wait, Dr. Finch.” I put a hand on the door to keep her from closing it. “The case was never solved. It can’t be forgotten. Four people, two of them children, were murdered in cold blood. They deserve justice, don’t you think?”
Leann Finch glared at me, and I knew she was angry now. I had hoped to avoid getting her riled up, but this might be the only way to get through to her and get her to talk about the events of twenty years ago.
“Come in, then.” Dr. Finch stepped away from the door to let us enter the house. The interior was blessedly cool. I had begun to perspire, standing out on the doorstep with the midday sun blazing down on us.
The door closed behind us, and Dr. Finch led us into the room to the right off the short hallway. She motioned toward the sofa, and Jack and I seated ourselves. She chose a straight-backed chair on the other side of a low coffee table directly across from us.
“Thank you for talking with us,” I said.
Dr. Finch shrugged. “Whatever. You claim to be Mr. Delaney’s cousin. What’s his connection to all this?” She pointed to Jack. “Your name sounds familiar.”
Jack said, “I live in Tullahoma, and I’m a writer. I write true crime books. I’ve been interested in the Barber case for a long time. I recently met Charlie and discovered his connection to Mr. Delaney, and we’re working together to try to solve the case.”
“I know that Bill Delaney was the chief suspect in the early stages of the investigation,” I said. “He had a strong alibi, however, and the police had to look elsewhere. They never did find out who the killer was.”
“Yes, I know all that,” Dr. Finch said. “Why are you so interested all of a sudden? Is there new information on the case?”
I noticed that she tensed slightly on the second question. Was she afraid of new information? If so, why?
“There’s no new information that we’re aware of,” Jack said. “But the attempt on Bill Delaney’s life has to mean that someone is a little rattled, wouldn’t you say?”
“Attempt on his life?” Dr. Finch shook her head. “It was a hit-and-run, nothing more. Mr. Delaney was inebriated and stumbled in front of someone, and the coward drove off.”
“There’s more to the story,” I said. “There were two witnesses to the hit-and-run.” Did I imagine it, or did she tense up again? I waited for her to respond to my statement. When she didn’t, I continued. “The witnesses were my daughter and son-in-law. My daughter, who is an observant person, was watching the street, and she saw the car coming down the street. According to her, it swerved in order to strike Mr. Delaney.”
I watched Dr. Finch closely, and she maintained a blank expression. Nor did she protest again that the hit-and-run was only an accident. Instead she simply watched me and Jack, her glance moving back and forth between us.
“So you see,” Jack said, “we have every reason to believe that Bill Delaney’s life is in danger. You must have recognized him, at least by name, if nothing else. Can you think of anyone who would want to kill him?”
“I think you’d better ask Mr. Delaney that question. Yes, I recognized the name, but he was my patient. My immediate concern was to assess his injuries and do what was necessary to stabilize him.” She rose from her chair. “Now I really must ask you to leave. I have a lot to do, and there’s nothing more I can tell you.”
I felt certain that she had plenty she could tell us, but at this moment, I didn’t think we’d get any further. Still, I decided to ask another question.
“When was the last time you saw Elizabeth Barber or talked to her?”
This time I wasn’t imagining the flash of fear I saw in her expression, though she did her best to disguise it quickly. “You have to leave, immediately, or I will call the police. Get out of my house.”