"You too, Cadie."He meant it more than she could possibly know."Really good."
There was more he wanted to say, but he still couldn't find the words.She seemed to understand, or maybe she felt the same way.She slipped into the driver's seat and started the engine.
Barrett stepped back and watched her pull away from the curb.He stood on the sidewalk long after her car disappeared around the corner.He pulled out his phone and looked at his notes about the investigation.He thought of Celia Ann Stratton's concerns, her request for help.
And now Cadie was at the center of it all.The woman he'd never forgotten, the one who got away.
He had a job to do, an investigation to conduct.He needed to find out what had happened to Celia Ann.That was what he'd been hired for, what he owed to a woman who had trusted him with the task.
But he also had a second chance he'd never expected.A chance to see if what he'd felt so many years earlier was just nostalgia or something real.
Cadie was back in his life, even if only temporarily.He had no idea where that would lead.
Chapter 5
Cadie pulled away from the curb and merged into Charleston traffic.She thought of the coffee shop conversation, and how easy it was to talk to Barrett.He looked good with his lean, muscular build, and those dark eyes that seemed to see everything.He had the same quiet confidence she remembered.
She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of sexy images of Barrett.This wasn't the time to think about her attraction.Her aunt may have died under suspicious circumstances, so that was what mattered.
The attorney had given her keys to her aunt's home.He'd mentioned she could go there anytime to collect personal items or anything she wanted to keep.Her aunt's home wasn't far, and it was still early.She decided to go and look around, then maybe she'd understand the situation better.
After a few minutes, she turned onto a residential street of modest but elegant homes.The house was a small single-story with pale yellow siding and white trim.A front porch with wrought-iron railings stretched across the façade.The yard was neat but not elaborate, with azalea bushes flanking the steps and a small garden bed along the front.
Cadie parked in the driveway and sat for a moment to look at the house.After her husband passed, her aunt had lived by herself.She might have been lonely or wished for family to visit more often.But it was too late to do anything about that.
She got out of the car and climbed the porch steps, then opened the door.The interior smelled of lemon polish and a floral scent.Cadie stepped inside and closed the door behind her, standing in the small foyer as her eyes adjusted to the low light.
To her left was a living room with furniture that had clearly been chosen decades ago.A sofa with fabric upholstery sat against one wall, flanked by matching armchairs.An upright piano occupied the far corner, its dark wood gleaming even in the subdued light.Sheet music was stacked neatly on the music stand.
Cadie walked to the piano and ran her fingers over the keys without pressing down.Touching the piano made her feel closer to her aunt.
She turned and surveyed the rest of the space.Built-in bookshelves lined one wall, filled with books about music theory, biographies of composers, and collections of sheet music.A few novels were tucked among them, mostly classics.Framed photographs were arranged on the mantel.
Cadie moved closer to examine them.One was her father as a young man, standing beside Celia Ann, and both were smiling.The family resemblance was clear.Another photo showed Celia Ann with her husband Emory at what looked like a conservatory event.
Then Cadie saw a photograph of herself as a teenager, sitting at a piano with her hands poised over the keys.She remembered when it was taken.Her father had brought her to Stratton House for a visit, and Aunt Celia Ann had insisted on taking pictures.Her aunt had kept it displayed in a silver frame in a place of honor among the family pictures.
The kitchen was small and tidy.On the counter beside the stove was a medication organizer, the kind with compartments for each day of the week.It was empty, but labels were still affixed to the side to indicate morning or evening doses.The names of medications were clearly listed.
Cadie closed the pill organizer and moved through the rest of the house.There was a small bedroom with a queen bed covered in a handmade quilt, and more photographs on the dresser.Another room looked rarely used, so it was probably for guests.The bathroom was equipped with old-fashioned fixtures and towels folded neatly on the rack.
Then she found the home office.
It was tucked into what might have originally been a sunroom at the back of the house.Windows looked out onto a small garden with a birdbath and flowering plants.A desk sat against one wall, its surface organized but not empty.Papers were stacked in neat piles, a lamp with a green glass shade provided light, and a cup of pens was within easy reach.
More photographs hung on the walls.One was of Celia Ann with students at the conservatory, and another was of a group photo of a recital.
She approached the desk, running her fingers over the smooth wood surface, noting that everything was orderly.A calendar lay open to the month before her aunt's death.Appointments were written in careful script.Coming up had been a doctor's visit, piano tuning at Stratton House, and a meeting with her attorney.
The desk had three drawers on the right side.Cadie opened the top one and found the usual office supplies of pens, paper clips, and envelopes.The middle drawer contained papers, such as utility bills, insurance papers, and bank statements.
The bottom drawer was locked.
Cadie stared at it.Everything else in the house was open and accessible.But her aunt had locked one drawer.
She remembered the key ring the attorney had given her and pulled it from her purse.One key looked like it might fit Stratton House.But there were several smaller keys.
Cadie tried one, but it didn't fit.Another slid into the lock and turned with a soft click.
