It was Constance Garcia, the housekeeper of Sandstone Manor.
Charlotte’s pulse began to race. Constance wasn’t her patient, but what a golden opportunity to get some information. She headed down the hall, knocked briefly on the exam-room door, and turned the knob as Mrs. Garcia said, “Come in.”
The woman was dressed in black pants, a white blouse, and a heavy gray sweater, her black hair pulled back in a severe knot. She was sitting in a chair by the exam table, reading a magazine. When she saw Charlotte, her eyes widened with surprise and what appeared to be a little fear.
“Hello, Mrs. Garcia. I’m Dr. Adams,” she said with a cheerful smile. She wasn’t guilty, and she wasn’t going to act guilty. “We met the other night at Mrs. Monroe’s house.”
“I know who you are. And you’re not my doctor.”
“Dr. Shaw is finishing up a surgery. She’ll be a little late. I wanted to let you know.”
“The nurse already told me,” she said warily.
“Good. I was hoping you and I could have a little chat about what happened the night Mrs. Monroe was assaulted.”
The woman immediately shook her head and put a nervous hand to the cross that hung around her neck. “I don’t have anything else to say. I told the police what I knew.”
“I’m sure you did. I’m just curious about where you were when you saw me. Were you on the stairs? Or in the hallway?”
The woman hesitated. “I’m sorry you’re in trouble. I just told them what I saw.”
“As you should. But I wasn’t near Mrs. Monroe’s room. I was at the other end of the corridor, and I don’t remember seeing you at all. I passed another woman when I came up the stairs. A young woman wearing a black dress, with dark hair. Do you know who I mean?”
Constance licked her lips. “I—I don’t know. I’m not sure.” She jerked to her feet, the magazine falling to the floor. She grabbed her big purse and held it in front of her like a shield. “I’ll come back when Dr. Shaw is here.”
“I’m sorry. Please don’t be upset,” Charlotte said quickly, holding up her hands in apology. “I’m just trying to figure out who could have hurt Mrs. Monroe, because it wasn’t me, which means it was someone else.”
The woman stared back at her for a long moment. “You seem nice. I’m sorry. I can’t talk to you. They told me not to.”
“Who?” she asked. “The police?”
Mrs. Garcia started shaking her head again, visibly more upset. Then she darted past Charlotte and practically ran down the hall, almost knocking over Charlotte’s nurse, Leslie, in the process.
“What happened?” Leslie asked.
“She didn’t want to wait,” Charlotte said shortly.
“I guess not,” Leslie said, giving her an odd look. “Are you all right? I just put Mrs. Rogers in room three.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.” Charlotte hurried into her office, closed the door, and breathed in and out, unsettled by the housekeeper’s words. “They told me not to talk to you.”
Who were they? Somehow she didn’t think Constance was referring to the cops. There had been fear in her eyes. And her cryptic apology made Charlotte wonder if the housekeeper had seen her in the hallway at all.
Who was the woman she’d passed on the stairs? There must be a list of all the employees who had been at the party that night. She needed to get it, go through it, identify the woman she’d seen. Put some pressure on someone else for a change.
Her mind whirled in a dozen different directions. She glanced at the phone, wondering if she should call Joe or Jason. Neither one wanted her involved, and she doubted they’d appreciate her talking to Constance. But something was off about the housekeeper’s behavior. She just had to figure out what it was.
Andrew jogged down the stairs of his house as his doorbell rang, three impatient times in a row. He finished buttoning up his shirt and ran his fingers through his damp hair as he headed toward the front door. He was just about to leave to pick up Tory for dinner.
On his porch was Pamela, wearing a dark red minidress under a black leather jacket with black tights and high heels. She brushed past him, taking off her coat and tossing it onto the couch before he could tell her she wasn’t welcome. Her dress was cut low, her generous cleavage front and center. She’d always been bold and uninhibited, but he didn’t intend to let her provocative clothes or her sexy smile get to him. He’d been to Pamela’s version of fantasy land, and he had no intention of going back.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“To finish our conversation from the other day. Did I get you out of the shower?” she asked, her gaze trailing down his body. “Too bad I didn’t get here a few minutes earlier. We were always good in the shower.”
He cleared his throat. “I’m on my way out, and we have nothing to say to each other.”
“Why don’t you offer me a drink?”
“All I have is soda and orange juice. Hardly your style.”
“Or yours. Fine, I’m not thirsty, anyway.” She glanced around the living room, giving a disbelieving shake of her head. “It’s weird that you’re living here in Charlotte’s house. Do you lie in bed at night and think about her? Do you go into the room she used to sleep in and imagine her dreaming about you?”
He knew better than to answer either of those questions. “I’m not discussing Charlotte with you.”
“Is she the one you put on cologne for?” She gave him a speculative look as she sat down on the couch. When she crossed her legs, her dress slid higher up her thigh, which was probably not an accident.
“I’m going to ask one more time. What do you want?”
“Sit down, Andrew.”
Her determined tone told him she wasn’t leaving until she’d had her say. Taking a seat in the chair across from her, he said, “Talk.”
“Charlotte’s not for you. You never saw her for who she was, and she never knew the real you. You were like the couple on top of the wedding cake, all dressed up and completely fake.”
He shook his head. “This is what you want to talk about?”
“I’m trying to stop you from making a mistake, going back to someone you didn’t love enough to stay with in the first place. I’ve always had your back, Andrew. I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.”
He looked at her in amazement. “How can you say that?”
“When you were with me, you were yourself, your real self. With Charlotte, it was all a big act. I bet she doesn’t even know you now.”
“You’re the one who doesn’t know me now. We’ve been apart for seven years. I’ve turned my life around.”
“Was your career choice some sort of penance?”
“It was my calling.”
“It didn’t seem like it was calling you when we were roaming the streets of Hollywood at three o’clock in the morning, going from club to club, drinking ourselves into oblivion, waking up with people we didn’t remember meeting.”
He swallowed hard. He’d never gone as far off the deep end as Pamela or some of his other friends, but he’d come close. And he thanked God every day that he’d found a way out of that life.
“I regret the choices I made back then, which is why I want to help people avoid the mistakes I made. I intend to have a life I can be proud of.”
“And you need Charlotte to complete your transformation,” she said with a bitter twist of her lips. “When she forgives you, then you can forgive yourself, right?”
“She’s already forgiven me. And my relationship with Charlotte is none of your business.” He didn’t want to admit that she was right, but she’d come damn close.
“I could wreck it again,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice.
His stomach rolled. “Why would you want to do that?”
“You left me behind, Andrew. You went off and saved yourself, and you didn’t give one thought to me.”
“I told you I was leaving.”
“But you didn’t offer to take me with you.”
“You wouldn’t have gone. You were sleeping with Mitch. How long did you stay together?”
“Until he went to prison, but I only stayed with him because you left. You were the one I loved, Andrew. Even Mitch knew that.”
“You need to leave Angel’s Bay,” he said abruptly.
“Why should I? You might have everything to lose, but I have nothing.”
“Are you sure about that? Because I’ve been thinking about the robbery at your sister’s house.”
She gazed back at him, giving nothing away. “So?”
“You always liked to borrow your sister’s jewelry. And then there was that girl in college, who lived in Beverly Hills. We partied at her house one night, and you somehow ended up with a pair of diamond earrings.”
“You think I did it?” Her eyes widened with surprise that could have been feigned or real. Pamela was a very good actress.
“I think you had a fight. Maybe you shoved Theresa. Maybe she just slipped and fell. And there was that big fat ring on her finger and that beautiful necklace, and you wanted them.”
“Nice story. Are you planning on telling it to the cops?”
“I might.”
“That sounds a little like blackmail, Reverend Schilling. It’s nice to know you haven’t lost all of your edge,” she said sarcastically.
“Most of it is gone.” He took a moment, wanting to find the right words to make her understand, to make her leave. “My life is completely different now, Pamela. I’m not the guy you ran around with in Hollywood. I give sermons, run youth groups, counsel people on their marriages, and visit the sick. I host bingo night and work with the ladies’ auxiliary to organize fund-raisers and plant gardens. I rarely drink, and I don’t touch anything stronger than aspirin. Would you really want to be a part of this life?”
“It does sound boring, I admit. But maybe I’m looking to change, too.”
“Then change—but don’t do it here,” he said as he rose. “You never liked Angel’s Bay, and the town is just as dull as you thought it was when you were seventeen.”
“I liked the excitement we made together.” She stood up and walked over to him. She put out a hand, but he backed away. “Are you afraid you’ll want me again if I touch you?”
“Would that make you feel better?” he asked gently.
Her lips turned into a pout. “Now you do sound like a counselor. I hate people who humor me.”
“Then maybe you should go.” He walked to the front door and held it open for her.
After a moment’s hesitation, she followed. “Do you really think I stole my sister’s jewelry? That I would leave her bleeding on the floor?”
He hated to think Pamela was that cold, but he couldn’t dismiss the idea. “Maybe you felt guilty, so you ran to the hospital, or maybe you just went to find out what Theresa remembered. Since she remembers nothing, you’re off the hook.”
“And you think I cut the lights at the party, too?”
That part didn’t sound like Pamela. “You could have had help. You said Mitch is out of jail now.”
Her gaze was steady and ice-cold. “You really believe that?”
“The only thing I know for sure is that you’re the best liar I’ve ever met.”
“There was a time when you were pretty good yourself. Perhaps this is one of those times. Your minister gig could just be one big act. And the perfect way to seal that deal is to marry the former minister’s daughter. Excellent plan, Andrew.”
“It’s not a plan. I love Charlotte.” He said the words as forcefully as he could, not just for her sake but for his own.
Pamela shook her head, giving him a pitying look. “You want to love her, but you don’t. I’m not sure you ever did. And that’s not a lie, Andrew, that’s the truth. I’d be doing you a favor if I broke you up. I’d be preventing you from ending up with the wrong person.”
“Just like I’d be doing you a favor by turning you in to the cops,” he returned. “Stopping you from going any further down the wrong path.”
She gave him a mocking smile. “Looks like we have a stalemate. I guess the question is, how far are you willing to go to protect your past?”
“And how far are you willing to go before you stop trying to destroy your own life? All you’ve ever done is sabotage yourself, Pamela. You don’t think you’re worth anything, so you make sure that everyone else thinks the same thing. But you can change. It doesn’t have to be like this.”
Her smile faded, her lips tightening. “You think you can save me?”
“No, I think you can save yourself.”
Pamela gave him one last look and then stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her.
Andrew drew in a deep breath, his heart beating fast. He needed to do something about Pamela before she ruined his life again. This time, he had a lot more to lose than just Charlotte.
TWELVE
Charlotte stopped in at Lauren’s bakery on her way to the quilt shop Wednesday evening. She’d been so caught up in the Monroe case and her own problems that she’d been a little remiss in her bridesmaid duties. She not only wanted to check in on Lauren, but she also had a very special piece of jewelry that she wanted to drop off before the wedding.
The Sugar and Spice Bakery, which Lauren had opened a few months earlier, was officially closed, but the lights were still on, and Charlotte could see Lauren through the windows. She was talking on the phone, her body language tense and her expression frustrated. The door was unlocked, so Charlotte stepped inside.
Lauren gave her a distracted wave, her attention clearly on the phone call.
Charlotte wandered over to the counter and took a piece of banana walnut bread from the sampler tray, trying not to eavesdrop, but it was clear that Lauren was talking about her father and that the news wasn’t good.
Ned Peterson had been suffering from early-onset Alzheimer’s for the past year, and his battles with the disease were beginning to take their toll—not just on him but also on the people around him. Lauren had originally come back to Angel’s Bay thinking that she might move her father to San Francisco, where she was then living, but it had soon become clear that he had no intention of leaving the town he called home. Fortunately, Lauren found love and a new career, so everyone ended up happy.
“Thanks, I’ll be by in about an hour,” Lauren said, then tossed her cell phone onto the counter in frustration.
“That doesn’t look like good news,” Charlotte commented.
Lauren pulled the band out of her hair and shook it out. “My dad had a bad day. He got very agitated, and they had to sedate him. He kept yelling that someone was trying to hurt his daughter. Even in his dementia, he thinks about Abby. He still wants to find some way to turn back the clock and bring her back to life. It’s hard to watch, because I wish I could do the same thing. Anyway, I need to go over there.”
“Do you want company?”
“Don’t you have some super-secret thing to do at the quilt shop?”
“I could probably get out of it.”
“Don’t bother. It’s better if I go on my own. More people will only confuse him.” She gave a sad smile. “So why are you here? Sweet craving? Or did you just come by to see me?”
“I wanted to bring you something.” She handed over a small jewelry box.
“You bought me jewelry?” Lauren asked in surprise.
“I wouldn’t say that, exactly. Open it.”
Lauren flipped open the lid. “Oh, my God, the daisy chain,” she said, pulling the beaded bracelet out. “We made these in eighth grade.” She gave Charlotte a nostalgic smile. “We used to go to that garden you found by the beach and pick the daisies.”
“And play the game, ‘He loves me, he loves me not,’ “ Charlotte finished with a grin.
“I remember. Yours always ended up on ‘he loves me’ and mine on ‘he loves me not.’ “
Charlotte laughed. “Well, you beat me to the altar, so there you go. Anyway, I wasn’t sure if
you still had yours, but I wanted you to have something from me for the wedding—something old and borrowed. You don’t have to wear it, though. It might ruin the look of your dress.”
“Are you kidding? I’m definitely wearing this.” Lauren put it on her arm, letting the white beaded daisies dangle from her wrist. “This means a lot to me, Charlotte. Our friendship was really special, and I’m glad we have it back.”
“Me, too. The best part about coming home was getting to be friends with you again—you and Kara and all the others.” Unexpected moisture filled her eyes. She was getting far too emotional these days.
Lauren tilted her head, giving her the same misty-eyed look. “Don’t you start crying, or I will.”
“I’m not crying,” she said with a sniff. “It’s silly. I had other friends in medical school. But for some reason, none of those friendships ever went as deep as ours.”
“Because we knew each other when we were kids, when we were growing up into our lives. That’s why I wanted you and Kara to be in the wedding. It feels right to have you two standing by my side. We’ve known each other the longest.”
Charlotte nodded. “And you know how honored we are—and even happier now that we’ve seen our bridesmaids’ dresses.”
“They are spectacular.” Lauren touched the daisy bracelet. “I haven’t been out to the garden since I came back to town. Is it still there?”
“I haven’t been out there, either. I’ve thought about going a few times, but part of me is afraid it won’t be there anymore.”
“Well, there was never any reason for it to be there. It was magical.”
Charlotte smiled. “I wouldn’t go that far. Anyway, I’ll let you go see your dad.”
Lauren walked with her to the door. “By the way, Charlotte, Shane has a couple of single good-looking friends coming to the wedding. Just in case you need some more men to complicate your life.”
She laughed. “That’s the last thing I need.”
“I’m still working on the seating chart. Anyone in particular you want me to put next to you?”
Garden of Secrets Page 15
