My hand squeezed the cup of tea so hard that scalding liquid poured over the edges. I jumped from my seat, tugging at the legs of my jeans to try and get the heat away from my skin. I was fanning my jeans as I looked up to finish the conversation.
“Mary Lou, I don’t care about that stuff. I don’t want anything from Riley, except Riley. Material possessions have never been a big draw for me. I need to know if Riley has a Power of Attorney document.”
Her face softened. “I’m sorry. I just thought—” She shook her head, her cheeks flushing. “Please forgive me.”
“It’s okay, Mary Lou,” I insisted. “But time is of the essence. If Riley has a power of attorney document, I need to find it.”
She only stared at me.
I stared back before finally shaking my head. “His parents want to transfer him up to a hospital closer to their home. They want to try some kind of unproven treatment on him.”
Mary Lou gasped, her hand flying over her heart. “That sounds scary.”
I nodded. “They’re already talking about when’s the right time to move him, and they’re not giving me any say in this. I’m not ready to face the possibility of Riley being someone’s guinea pig, Mary Lou. I need to know who has the power to make these decisions while he can’t. Riley can’t tell me now, and I’m powerless to do anything without documentation.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Can I get into his office?”
She stood. “Of course.”
“His file drawers? Are they locked?”
“I’ve got the key.” She paused. “Some information is confidential, though. Attorney-client privilege, you know. You just can’t look at everything.”
I nodded. “I know.”
She grabbed a key from her drawer and nodded toward the hallway. “Let’s go.”
My steps dragged. I wasn’t sure I was ready to see Riley’s office. I’d seen a lot of terrible things in my day. Truly. But seeing the place where a loved one had almost died . . . well, that seemed like the worst.
I paused at the doorway as Mary Lou jangled her keys near the lock. I sucked in a breath as the door swung open. My heart thudded in my ears.
Mary Lou stepped back, grief lining her face. “It’s all yours.”
I nodded a thank you as she went back to her desk. Then I stepped inside, trepidation claiming me.
I swallowed, trying to stay objective as I peered into Riley’s office.
My first observation was that Chad had done a good job cleaning up after the crime. I could hardly tell anything had happened, other than a few stray objects being moved or removed.
All the blood was gone from the golden brown carpet. The rug had been high quality and soft under your feet—leftover from the previous building owner, who just happened to be a carpet supplier.
The only changes I saw were some books that had been moved from the bookshelf. Possibly blood had splattered there. Also, Riley’s diploma was missing from the wall. I assumed that the glass around the frame had probably shattered because the document was on Riley’s desk now.
His desk calendar was gone, I realized. It probably had blood on it, also. The police had most likely taken it for evidence.
As much as I tried to fight the images of what had happened here last week, I couldn’t. They hit me with the impact of a speeding train.
At once, I pictured Riley here at his solid oak desk. I saw him looking over some documents, preparing for his day. Then he’d heard someone walk in. He’d probably stood.
Before he’d realized what was happening, a man appeared in his doorway. Wearing a mask. With a gun in his hand. Before Riley could react, the man fired. Riley turned, but not in time. The bullet still hit his skull.
From what I understood, the ambulance arrived ten minutes later. While the EMTs rushed him to the hospital, the police arrived and began their investigation.
And my life had been changed. Just like that.
Anger began growing inside me. Anger at the person who’d done this. Anger at Riley for not locking the front door, at Mary Lou for not being here that day, at me for not insisting he take some time off, at God for allowing it to happen.
I shook my head. I had to focus. I couldn’t dwell on those things now. Pointing the finger at anyone other than the gunman would only waste my time and compromise my judgment.
Instead, I went to Riley’s desk and sat down in his chair. I forced my mind not to go to the places where it wanted—places of grief and assumption. Places that formed haunting mental pictures of what might have been. Instead, I pulled open his first desk drawer.
I saw the expected—pens, highlighters, Post-Its, tape, scissors.
I opened the rest of his drawers but found nothing that was anything like a Power of Attorney document.
I looked behind me at the filing cabinets. There were six different cabinets, most with either four or five drawers. I knew that’s where Riley kept his records, the paperwork I wasn’t allowed to see.
I swiveled the chair behind me. A second desk was there. Normally, a computer sat atop it, but no doubt the police had taken that. Where might Riley keep his personal documents?
The obvious answer was: at home. But I wasn’t sure how soon I’d be able to search there. I’d have to figure out a way. I wasn’t above being sneaky.
I stood and walked to his bookcase. Mostly, there were law books. Nothing exciting. I ran my finger down a shelf, pausing when I got to the end.
A devotional book we’d been doing together was there. I’d bought it for him a few weeks ago. A bittersweet smile came over my face as I pulled it off the shelf. I opened the book and read the inscription. “To Riley. It’s you and me from here until eternity. Love always, Gabby.”
I closed the book, fighting tears—again. As I rubbed the cover and started to put the book back, something fluttered out from its pages.
I bent down and grabbed a card. I studied the front. It was a picture of the sunset at the beach with a heart drawn in the sand.
I frowned. Where had this come from? I certainly hadn’t given it to Riley.
My hands trembled as I opened it. A pretty, curvy scrawl etched the paper there. I squinted, trying to get the words to focus.
“Riley, I’m so glad we’ve reconnected. I hate to think about all the time we’ve lost in these last couple of years. I want you to know that I still care about you. Nothing will ever change that. I look forward to our meeting tomorrow. Love, Juliette.”
I blinked. I couldn’t have read that correctly. There was no way.
I read the note again. Certainly I was reading something wrong because this note almost made it sound like . . .
I shook my head. Okay, I needed to think this through clearly.
Juliette was the name of the woman he was representing, the woman who wanted to sue Garrett Mercer.
Apparently, Riley knew Juliette before this case.
I’d only given him this book three weeks ago. That meant this note was recent.
But why hadn’t Riley told me about the meeting with her? And what did Juliette mean when she said she cared about him still?
Just when I thought my unease couldn’t grow anymore, it did.
Riley had been shot.
Riley’s parents were considering making decisions I didn’t agree with about his future.
And now . . . Riley was cheating on me?
I didn’t want to assume anything, but my mind kept racing ahead of my desires.
I had to talk to this Juliette lady. And I had to talk to her now.
CHAPTER 8
Before I could talk to Juliette, I had to find out her last name. I sucked on my bottom lip as I considered my options.
I could ask Mary Lou. I had a feeling she wouldn’t tell me. I could search the Internet. Maybe something had run in the newspaper about her being fired. I could search Riley’s files but, since they were probably alphabetized by last name, that most likely wouldn’t help me.
I sat
back down at Riley’s desk and pulled out my phone. Internet here would be slow, but it beat going back to my apartment. I quickly typed in “Juliette” and “Global Coffee Initiative.”
Sure enough, an article about Juliette appeared in an online Christian magazine. Her last name was Barnes. Juliette Barnes. There was no picture, only an image of the coffee logo from her previous employer.
I read the rest of the article, just so I could gather some more background information. Apparently, she’d worked for the company for almost a year. She was very vocal about her Christian beliefs and claimed she hadn’t crossed any lines in the workplace. The end of the piece said that Damascus Law was representing her.
Riley had named the firm Damascus Law because of his own conversion. I’d only found out recently just how deeply his story ran. At first, I assumed Riley picked the name because of its Biblical reference. But after a friend had been killed in a drunk driving accident, his life had spiraled downhill. Eventually, Riley had realized he’d fallen off the straight and narrow. With the help of a friend, he’d turned his life around.
I checked the date of the article. It had just run nine days ago.
What I didn’t find was Juliette’s address.
For some reason unknown to me, I tucked Juliette’s card into my purse. I was going to hold on to it, though I wasn’t sure what purpose it would serve. Maybe it would only remind me of my doubts and fears and insecurities. Maybe it would provide answers. Maybe it would open up wounds, only add to my heartbreak.
I stepped out of Riley’s office, locking the door behind me, and walked into the reception area. Mary Lou glanced up from her desk, where she was busy doing some paperwork. She offered a sad smile. “Hey there, Sweetie.”
“Mary Lou, I know this is going to sound strange, but I need an address for one of Riley’s clients.”
“An address? I . . . I can’t give out that information. It would be a breech of . . . something legal, I’m quite sure. Unethical, at best. Are you sure you can’t find it online? I heard you could find anything and everything on that blasted Internet.”
“I looked. It’s not there.”
“That’s too bad.” She frowned, her face wrinkling with the gesture.
I stepped closer. “Please, Mary Lou. It’s important.”
She licked her lips as she looked up at me. “Who is it you’re looking for, Dear?”
“Juliette Barnes.”
Mary Lou nodded slowly and tapped the envelopes in her hands against the desktop. “I wish I could help. I really do.” She looked down and shuffled through the envelopes. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
I sighed. I’d figured that would be her response. Now I needed to think of another way to find the information.
Mary Lou stood. “I need to run to the little girl’s room.” She held up the envelopes, speaking very slowly and carefully. “I’m going to leave these billing statements right here on my desk. I’m about to mail them to all of Riley’s most recent clients.” She stared at me, as if silently asking, “Do you get my drift?”
I knew exactly what she was getting at. Gratitude filled me.
Mary Lou scurried off to the bathroom. I glanced down at the desk. Sure enough, the bill on top was addressed to a “Juliette Barnes.” I grabbed a Post-It note and jotted down the information. She lived in Virginia Beach out by the oceanfront, so it would be a good thirty-minute drive from here in Norfolk.
There was no better time than now to see if I could find her.
***
I drove to the beach. It had taken me forever to find parking and, when I finally did, I’d had to pay ten dollars. The oceanfront was busy with tourists taking last minute vacations before the school year started again. Everything was more expensive down here at this time of the year.
I stopped in front of the condo complex listed as her address. The building was four stories high and right on the water—in other words, it was really expensive to live here. Who would have thought that Global Coffee paid this well?
I knew I should go and find Juliette’s place, pound on the door, and demand some answers.
Instead, I stood out front, staring up at the pastel-colored building. What if Juliette told me something I didn’t want to know? What if she revealed something that changed my entire view of Riley—for the worst? Riley was in a coma. He couldn’t explain anything himself.
But my need for answers had brought me here. I needed to do what I’d come to do, despite whatever the outcome might be. I had to stop being wimpy.
I pulled open the front door, took the elevator to the third floor, and found Condo #3021. I practiced some yoga breathing before knocking on the door. Then I waited, the butterflies in my stomach feeling more like bats that were growing more ferocious with each second.
Nothing.
I pounded at the door again.
Still, nothing.
It appeared I’d just wasted ten dollars. I was going to have to come back again some other time.
Just as I turned, I saw a twenty-something guy headed my way, a towel around his neck and sand on the tops of his flip-flop clad feet. I offered my best smile. “Excuse me, I’m looking for Juliette Barnes. Do you know when the best time to catch her is?”
“Juliette?” He shook his head. “I couldn’t tell you. I haven’t seen her in a while.”
“Really? I wonder if she’s out of town or something.”
“Couldn’t say. I couldn’t tell you much about her except she looks great in a bathing suit and she loves Jesus.” He rolled his eyes at the last part.
“She always did like to talk about Jesus, didn’t she?” I took a stab at it.
“Favorite topic of conversation. All about how He’d changed her life.” He paused and gave me a better look. “Probably shouldn’t be giving out a lot of information about people. It’s always the innocent ones you have to look out for. You’re not going to break into her place tonight or something, are you?”
I pointed to myself. “Me? No. I just knew her way back when, and I heard she’d moved back to the area. I wanted to catch up, but I don’t have her cellphone.”
“Where’d you know her from?” I had a feeling he was testing me.
“Up in D.C.” I took another guess. The D.C. area is where Riley grew up and went to law school.
He nodded, as if I’d passed. “Nice area up there. But too much traffic.”
I leaned against the wall, trying to look casual. “Listen, she didn’t have a roommate, did she? I’d love to leave her a message, but I don’t want to drive back down here again.”
“I don’t think she had a roommate. Maybe a boyfriend? I saw a guy come up here with her a few times.”
“Blond hair? I wonder if it’s Tony from up in Arlington. I always thought the two of them would get married.”
“No, he had dark hair. He was tall, fit, blue eyes.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. They seemed really into each other. Talked the whole time, all quiet though, like they had secrets.”
Tall, fit with blue eyes?
Riley?
Had Riley been up to her apartment?
I remembered the guy was waiting for me to respond. “I bet Tony’s heartbroken then.” I pulled my purse tighter. “I’ll have to try again some other time.”
“All I Ask of You” from Phantom of the Opera echoed in my head. Such a beautiful song. A song about someone who thought they’d found their true love, only to find out that love loved another.
Yeah, Tony and I could both relate to that one.
***
I called Sierra on my way home and asked if she’d come up to my apartment when I got back. I really needed to talk to someone, and Sierra was a great listener.
As soon as I walked in the front door, she stepped out from her first floor abode, gave me a quick hug, and then we walked upstairs arm in arm without saying a word. At my door, I picked up a casserole dish from the floor, unlocked my apartment, and ushered Sierra inside.
Thankful
ly, Riley’s parents didn’t stick their heads out from his apartment. I knew they were here. I’d seen their SUV outside. I didn’t feel like seeing them now.
“Do you want something to eat?” I asked her, putting the casserole dish on the counter.
She stood with her hands on her hips beside the breakfast bar. “What do you have? Anything vegan?”
I opened my refrigerator door and tons of uneaten food stared back at me. “Maybe. I think there are some beans in here somewhere.”
She peered over my shoulder. “Where in the world did you get all of that food?”
“The church has been bringing by meals for me every night.” I pulled out a salad and checked another bowl to see if they were green beans inside. Bingo.
“It doesn’t look like you’ve eaten a thing.” She raised her eyebrows until they peeked above the rim of her plastic framed glasses.
“I’ve nibbled on this and that. I gave a few things to Riley’s parents. Do you want to take something to Chad?”
“He’d love that. Even though he knew I was a vegan before we got married, I still think he envisioned me cooking him meat and potatoes every night. Men. I don’t know what they’re thinking sometimes.”
I pointed to the food on the counter as I pulled some white plates out of the cabinet. “Help yourself.” I pulled out some kind of chicken pasta for myself, plopped a glob of it on a plate, and stuck it in the microwave. “I feel terrible that I haven’t been able to help Chad out lately with Trauma Care. I know he’s slammed.”
“Yeah, he’s been busy. But your friend Clarice is helping him.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Clarice? I had no idea.” Clarice had helped me the week while Chad was on his honeymoon. That was until Milton Jones had abducted her. I’d underestimated the girl. I’d give her that.
“Yeah, I guess she’s driving him crazy. She talks a lot. About clothes and TV and boys.”
I smiled for the first time all day as I pictured that playing out. I could see it perfectly. “I’m glad she could help.”
To Love, Honor, and Perish Page 6
