Secrets

by L. A. Fiore

  “She’s my boss,” Danielle said, too brightly. Arissa looked over at her, but her focus was solely on Sean and she was grinning, that grin she got when she was attracted. Arissa looked back at Sean, noticed his gaze lingered a little longer than was polite on Danielle. Then Danielle blurted out, “I stole lipstick when I was twelve. It was a great color, and looked really good on me too.” Her face went red; her eyes darted to Arissa then back at Sean. “Is there a statute of limitations? Do you need to print me?”

  Sean crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you happen to still have the lipstick in question?”

  “Oh no. I used it, but…” She leaned a little closer, dropped her voice, “Just an fyi, you shouldn’t keep lipstick longer than a year.”

  Sean held back the smile and chuckle he felt rising in his chest. He took a deep breath, mustered up as much of a serious tone as he could at the moment and said, “Why don’t we meet at Serge’s for a drink later to discuss this in more detail.”

  “Yes, okay. Bring your cuffs,” Danielle said, then slapped a hand over her mouth, first in embarrassment and then laughter.

  “I can go get coffee or something if you two need a minute,” Arissa offered.

  Sean grinned then, shook his head and shifted his focus to Arissa before he said, “We’ll talk in my office.”

  They followed him, took the seats he gestured to. He settled across from them, held Arissa’s stare before he said, “I only have a few questions. I told Hank I would go easy on you.”

  “You know Hank?” Arissa asked. She knew they knew of each other but did they know each other.

  “I do,” Sean muttered and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, sliding it toward Danielle. He jerked his head to them and Danielle didn’t miss a beat when she started writing down her name and number. “We met a few years back at the policeman’s ball. Great guy.” Sean decided not to be any more forthcoming about how Hank would come into the city for pleasure and how he’d always meet up with Sean for a drink.

  The mention of the policeman’s ball had Arissa thinking about Phoebe. She almost asked if he knew her, too, but she didn’t want to know. Her focus strayed to Danielle, who was resting her head on her hand, looking at Sean like he was the second coming.

  Arissa muttered, “And I almost brought Craig.”

  Sean’s eyes darted between the two women when he smiled. “Well, thank fuck you didn’t.” He chuckled, sat back in his chair and put on his work face. “This won’t take long.”

  * * *

  Arissa walked through the shelter. She’d never been interviewed in regards to a murder investigation, but Sean had taken it easy on her. The questioning only lasted about ten minutes since there was no prior connection between Arissa and Harley. Sean had even expressed it was all bad timing. In fact, he and Danielle spent more time saying goodbye, but at least something good came from the ugly.

  Arissa had a knot in her stomach, but guilt did that to her. And even knowing Hank was going to be pissed when he learned about her sleuthing, if it helped, it was a risk worth taking.

  As often as she strolled by the shelter during her years living in Charleston, she never really thought about the people who lived there. It wasn’t just addicts but families, fallen on hard times with the shelter as the only way to keep them together. As editor-in-chief of a magazine with the reach Southern Charm had, she was going to use that clout and help. A few ideas floated in her head as she walked to the office she’d been directed to when she entered.

  A woman sat behind the desk, her focus on the small television, as she ate a tuna salad sandwich. She glanced up, saw Arissa and put her finger up as she swallowed.

  “Sorry, you got me during lunch.” She wiped her hands and stood. “I’m Elsie. How can I help you?”

  “Arissa. I’m sorry to bother you during lunch. I can come back,” Arissa offered.

  “There’s never a good time for lunch. You’re here now.”

  Arissa nodded then said, “I was hoping to get information on clients of Harley Aldridge, specifically those from the early eighties.”

  Recognition moved over her face. “You picked a good day to visit because there aren’t many of us still around who worked here back then. I remember Harley. For a man who owned his own law firm, he sure did take good care of the folks around here.” She stepped from around the desk. “My memory isn’t so good these days, but we keep records of everything,” she offered as she started down the hall.

  Unlike Marguerite, this woman didn’t know of Harley’s passing, and Arissa wasn’t about to share. Instead, she asked, “If I showed you a picture, do you think you might remember if she was one of Harley’s clients?”

  Elsie turned to her. “It can’t hurt.”

  Arissa pulled up a picture of Catherine; one she had taken during their first dinner together, believing it was the start of something special. Boy, had she been wrong about that. But with luck, maybe they could turn it around. Elsie studied the picture for a few seconds. “Wait, I know her. She wasn’t a patient. She used to work here. What was her name?”

  “Catherine Weathers?” Arissa asked.

  Elsie pointed at her. “Catherine, yes! But not, Weathers, she went by a different name. Give me a second. Takes longer, but I’ll get it.” She scrunched up her brows; the bubble practically visible over her head and then the light bulb went off. “Barbos. Catherine Barbos!” She shouted in victory.

  Barbos. Arissa wondered if maybe they were talking about different people, but Elsie studied the picture again. “Yeah, Catherine Barbos. Man, that was a long time ago.”

  Barbos must have been Catherine’s maiden name. She wasn’t a patient but an employee, so it was more likely that Harley was looking for her to help him find a client.

  Elsie pulled Arissa from that thought when she added, “Catherine spent most of her time in the overflow room.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Back in the eighties the hospital was updating the ER, so patients were sent here to an overflow room. Catherine spent most of her time helping the hospital staff.”

  If Harley came looking for Catherine for information on a client, and Catherine spent most of her time with the patients from the hospital, then it was more likely the hospital would have the records for whoever it was Harley was looking for. What Arissa wondered was who was the woman Harley was hunting, how was she connected to Catherine, and why the secrecy? “I think I’ll check with the hospital. There’s a good chance who I’m looking for was a patient of theirs and not a resident of the shelter.”

  “Okay, but if you need to look through our records, just stop on back. I’ll show you to the room.”

  “Thank you, Elsie.”

  “Sure thing.”

  On the short walk to the hospital, Arissa called Craig.

  “What’s up, boss lady?”

  “Can you do a search on Catherine Barbos?”

  A pause before he asked, “Another on the down low request?” But she heard the interest in his voice.

  “Yes,” she replied then added, “You can say no. It’s likely what I’m asking is illegal.”

  “Yeah, so,” Craig responded.

  She chuckled then said, “Remind me to erase all my records.”

  “Wouldn’t matter. I’d find it.”

  “You’re that good?” But she knew he was.

  “I don’t have to answer that.” He then confirmed the spelling of Barbos and said, “I’ll call you when I’ve got something.”

  Arissa disconnected the call, dropped her phone in her purse and wondered why Craig worked for her and not the CIA.

  Fifteen minutes later, Arissa stood by the nurses’ station. Unlike the shelter, trying to get someone to help her wasn’t easy. She understood; they had more important things to deal with.

  An elderly woman approached. “Are you the one looking
for information on former patients?”

  Arissa looked at her tag. “Hi, Dorothy. I’m Arissa.”

  When that was answered with silence, Arissa moved the conversation along. “Not so much a patient but Catherine Barbos. She worked at the shelter next door, helped with the overflow patients from the hospital.”

  “I’m heading to lunch. Let’s walk,” Dorothy said. “That’s right. We used to use the extra room for the ER patients. It’s been so long.” She hit the button for the elevator. “What was the name, Catherine?”

  “Barbos.”

  They waited for the elevator. The door opened, they climbed in and were halfway to their destination when Dorothy said, “I do remember her. She took an interest in some of the patients.” Dorothy then added, “We definitely needed the help.”

  Stepping off the elevators, she made a beeline to the cafeteria.

  “You said she showed an interest in some of the patients, only some?”

  “Yeah,” Dorothy said, grabbing a tray. “The drug-addicted patients.”

  Well, that fit with who Harley took on as pro bono work. So it was likely he was looking for Catherine, either in search of his client or looking for friends of hers. “Do you happen to remember any of the patients Catherine helped? Well, anything you can share without violating patient/doctor confidentiality?”

  “Now you’re asking too much of me,” Dorothy said with a chuckle. “But Sasha remembers every little thing. Why don’t you leave me your number? She won’t be able to share much with you because of the confidentiality issue, but she can give you a better picture than I can.”

  Arissa pulled out a business card. “I’d appreciate anything she can share.”

  Dorothy glanced at the card, then looked again. “The Southern Charm?” Her head snapped up. “You’re that Arissa.”

  Arissa had to resist the urge to preen a bit, but it was always nice when her reputation preceded her. “I am, yes.”

  “Well, damn. Next time you should start with that. Sasha will be calling you for sure. She loves your magazine.”

  Arissa felt her cheeks warming, but she smiled and offered her hand. “Thank you for your time and the information.”

  “I wish I could have given you more.”

  Arissa turned to go, but stopped and looked back. “Does the hospital ever do events for the pediatric ward?”

  “Not often. Too cheap,” Dorothy said, those words were snarled.

  “Whom would I talk to about that?”

  “Tanya Black.” Dorothy answered while twisting the cap off her soda bottle.

  “Good to know. Thanks again, Dorothy.”

  Arissa walked back to the elevators, her thoughts going in a million different directions. So Catherine worked with drug-addicted patients. Why would that be something she’d hide from Hank? She clearly didn’t have the full picture, but she was getting somewhere. She’d head back to the office and see if Craig had learned anything about Catherine. She could almost see his smug look because she’d bet money he had found shit out already.

  She caught a cab to Southern Charm headquarters. Climbing out and paying the cabbie, she took a minute. This life had been her drug when she was younger, the rolling stone lifestyle, moving all over the world, the heated meetings in the boardroom, the clashing of ideas. She’d eaten it up, craved it, but standing there looking up at what had one time been her dream, it wasn’t anymore. She loved the work, but she loved the small, quirky town she now called home. And she did because her dream now wasn’t a job, but a man and the life they were going to have. A life she was potentially jeopardizing, but it was that damn string, pulling on it and watching shit unravel, she couldn’t stop until she knew what she didn’t. But thinking about him had her missing him, so she reached for her phone and called him.

  “For fucks sake, get Larry from the electric company on the phone!” Hank shouted away from the phone before bringing it to his mouth where his hard tone softened. “Hey, Baby, how’s it going?”

  She took a second because just his voice hit her in all the right places. “It’s going. What’s going on with you? Larry?”

  Hank took a deep breath. “Those old fuckers, do you know what they fucking did this time?” Hank didn’t let Arissa take a breath before he continued, “Took the last of the fireworks they had and strapped them to a fucking transformer…a transformer. Now the fucking town has been without electric for,” Hank paused and finished. “Going on five hours.” Hank took a breath then and dropped into his chair.

  Arissa tried to hold back the laugh, but she could so totally see Elmer and Sal doing that. “You really need to cuff them to that table of theirs. They’re menaces, the both of them.”

  “Got them in the holding cell,” Hank said proudly with a trace of anger mixed in.

  “Did they share why they did it? They had to have known what would happen?”

  “Well,” Hank started with a drawl. “Where you want me to start?” It wasn’t a question he wanted Arissa to answer as he went on. “First, Hya dared them. Elmer refused cause he knew I’d get pissed. Sal then called him a pussy. You know Elmer doesn’t take kindly to being called a pussy. Then Hya said she was holding back her pussy till he did it.” Hank let out a breath, took another and added, “Don’t ya just fucking miss it all, Babe?”

  “I do miss it,” she said softly. “I miss you, but I think we need to make sure all three of them are in your barn before we burn it down.”

  “Speaking of murder, how’d it go with Sean?”

  “He made it painless. I brought Danielle, the two hit it off.”

  Some of Hank’s stress eased. He had no doubt Sean would go easy on her but hearing it felt fucking good. “Let me guess, Danielle is the blue-eyed, blonde hair, not so smart kinda girl?”

  “Brilliant stager, but yeah she’s an airhead.”

  “Yep,” Hank muttered. “Exactly Sean’s type. How’s work going?”

  That guilt twisted in her gut knowing it was more than work keeping her from him. Craig would have the info on Catherine shortly, probably already had shit. Sasha should be calling her later too, when she arrived for shift. With luck, she’d know what was bugging Catherine by the time she went to bed. And even knowing she was nosing around where she shouldn’t, if it got Hank the answers he needed so he could put Catherine at ease, he’d be pissed at Arissa, but he’d forgive her. To him she said, “I’m about done. Should be wrapping shit up today. I’ll be heading home in the morning.”

  “Hearing that makes my shit day better.”

  “Maybe when I get back we can go away for a little,” Arissa suggested because she wanted alone time, just them, no interruptions.

  Hank’s voice was a little lighter when he said, “Yeah, let’s fucking do it, plan to be sipping drinks with those fucking umbrellas in them, laying on a beach next week, Sweetheart.”

  “And naked in a bed. Sounds perfect.”

  “It is perfect,” Hank whispered but was clearly not talking about the vacation they had planned. “Call me later.”

  “I will. Love you.”

  “Love you.”

  If she had known then what would happen next, she’d have gotten into her car right then and there and gone back home…back to Hank.

  * * *

  Arissa woke to the pounding at her door. Reaching for her phone, it was only six in the morning. Climbing from bed, she walked to the door, peeked out and saw it was Craig. It was the look of him that had her yanking the door open.

  He didn’t wait to be invited in, pushing past her into her hotel room. “Got coffee?” He said, already looking around the room for the pot.

  “What’s wrong, Craig?” Arissa asked, then studying him added, “Have you been up all night?”

  “Yeah, on two pots of coffee and a dozen red bull, but once I got started I couldn’t stop.”

  �
��Got started on what?” Arissa asked, even knowing the answer as a shiver moved down her spine.

  “Looked into Catherine Barbos. On the surface, it looked legit.”

  That shiver turned to a chill. “What do you mean on the surface it looked legit?”

  Craig started pacing. “She worked for the shelter, was there for five years. Found a lot of medical bills, mostly fertility clinics.” He stopped pacing, pulled a hand through his hair. “Dropped a shit ton of money on trying to get pregnant.”

  Catherine had trouble getting pregnant? That certainly explained her overprotectiveness toward Hank. He was, in a way, their miracle baby. The news softened Arissa’s opinion of Catherine.

  “What isn’t legit about that?” Arissa asked.

  “It’s moving further up the timeline,” Craig said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means all references to Catherine Barbos ceased to exist after nineteen eighty-four.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “There’s nothing. No activity of any kind on her. No more medical bills, no marriage license, no credit cards statements. There’s nothing on her.”

  Numbness moved through Arissa because that was weird. “Did you look into Catherine Weathers?”

  “I did, yeah.” But Craig looked a little ill. Before she could ask him what was putting that look on his face her phone rang.

  Looking at it, it was the hospital. “I need to take this. Why don’t you call down to room service, get yourself some water and food.” Craig went to the hotel phone as Arissa stepped out onto the balcony.

  “Hello.”

  “Is this Arissa Haywood?” A woman asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Sasha Michaels. Dorothy from Sacred Heart asked me to call you.”

  Arissa leaned against the railing of the balcony because her legs were struggling to keep her up. “Yes, thank you for calling me back.” Based on what Craig had shared, Arissa wasn’t so sure she wanted to know the answer to the question but she heard herself asking.

  “I was interested in learning about Catherine Barbos, her time at the shelter and her work with the hospital’s patients that found their way to the overflow room.”