"I found more of my aunt's notes today at Stratton House," Cadie said.She showed him the planner."There's a timeline here.These entries predate the journal.I wanted to share them with you."
"Of course," Barrett said, then accepted the planner and began going through it.He lingered over one page then flipped to the next."Your aunt was documenting changes in her health."He looked through the other papers."It's clear that she was feeling poorly months before her death, but she didn't feel listened to."
Barrett finished reading."I'm beginning to get a better picture of her final months."
"Something else happened today," Cadie said.She watched his expression shift to full alertness, the protective instinct visible in the way he straightened."A man approached me at Stratton House."She showed him the business card."Kal Davis.He wants to buy the property."
Recognition flashed across Barrett's face."I know that guy.We went to high school together.He was a year behind us."His voice hardened."He was rude and studious back then.Apparently he's a real estate developer now."He took the card, frowning."What did he say to you?"
Cadie recounted the conversation, including Kal's attitude about the property and the comments about problems arising.Plus, she mentioned how quickly he'd discovered that the property had been inherited.
Barrett's expression darkened with each detail."Your aunt refused to sell to Kal.Then her health began declining.Now he's aggressively pursuing you to sell.That's suspicious timing."
"That's what I thought too," Cadie said.
"We'll talk about it over dinner," Barrett said, moving toward the door."Plus, I'll share what I learned today."
Chapter 8
NOLA Cookery was a short drive from the hotel, tucked into a corner building in the historic district.Barrett held the door for Cadie and followed her inside.The restaurant was intimate and inviting, with exposed brick walls and soft lighting from wrought-iron chandeliers.The aroma of Cajun spices and fresh seafood filled the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation and the gentle strains of jazz from hidden speakers.
A hostess led them to a corner table, somewhat secluded from the other diners.White tablecloths covered the small tables, and candles flickered in glass holders.The atmosphere was romantic, the kind of place meant for couples rather than business meetings.
Barrett pulled out Cadie's chair before taking his own seat across from her.The candlelight played across her features, highlighting the green of her eyes and the soft curve of her lips.She looked beautiful in her jeans and emerald blouse.The color brought out the depth of her eyes in a way that made it difficult for him to look anywhere else.
He wished she didn't have to deal with the details of what had happened to her aunt.She deserved peace, not suspicion and investigation.But there was no alternative.Celia Ann had left specific instructions, and the evidence was beginning to suggest those instructions had been warranted.
His mind drifted to what he had read earlier.There was an entry in the planner five months before Celia Ann's death that mentioned fatigue after teaching, a complaint that seemed minor on its own.But a journal entry two months later described the worsening exhaustion, interfering with daily activities.The progression was clear when the pieces were laid out.Something had been happening to Celia Ann over those final months, something gradual and insidious.
"What are you thinking?"
Cadie's voice pulled him from his thoughts.
"About you."Barrett smiled."You're beautiful."
Color rose in Cadie's cheeks, but she seemed uncertain how to respond.The moment stretched between them, charged with possibility.
Then the waitress appeared at their table, breaking the spell.She was young and cheerful, with a notepad ready."Good evening.Can I start you with something to drink?"
Cadie glanced at Barrett, then back at the waitress."I'm guessing I need a drink before I hear what you found out today."
"I probably do too," Barrett said.
Cadie ordered a glass of white wine, and Barrett chose bourbon on the rocks.The waitress promised to return shortly and left them alone.
Cadie looked around the restaurant with evident fondness."This place has the best Low Country cuisine in Charleston," she said."The shrimp and grits are incredible."
Barrett watched her as she talked, admiring the way her face lit up when she discussed something she loved.Her hands moved gracefully as she gestured, describing favorite dishes and memorable meals.He enjoyed watching her.
The drinks arrived, and he took a couple of sips.The bourbon was smooth, warming his chest as it went down.
Cadie set her wine glass on the table and met his eyes."Tell me what you found."
"I'm consulting with Detective Mark Sullivan," Barrett said."He's former Navy and we've worked together before.As soon as I was contacted about your aunt's case, I let him know that I'd be in Charleston and why.He was aware of the situation, since the estate attorney had alerted the police."
Cadie's eyes widened.
"Nothing came of it," Barrett said."The attorney made a report at your aunt's request.The fact that she passed away not long after lends credibility to her concerns.When I informed Sullivan of my questions about your aunt's medications, he agreed that I should investigate it."
