Chapter 6
Barrett woke early and stared at the ceiling. His mind went to dinner with Cadie the night before.
He envisioned her in the blue dress under the soft lighting. He'd felt the attraction outside her door and wanted to kiss her. He'd come dangerously close to pressing his lips to hers. He hadn't, but wasn't sure how long he could resist.
Barrett's job was to investigate Celia Ann Stratton's death. Getting involved with Cadie while investigating was unprofessional at best, dangerous at worst. He needed to maintain objectivity and stay focused on the facts.
There was one problem. Every time he looked at Cadie, objectivity became harder to maintain.
He pushed the thought aside and got out of bed. A long run would help clear his head and give him space. He could think about meeting Olivia Stewart, the woman who had cared for Celia Ann in her final years. He needed to be sharp, observant, ready to notice details that others might miss.
Barrett changed into his jogging clothes and headed out into the cool morning. He set a steady pace through the historic district, along the old sidewalks. The city was just waking up, with shop owners unlocking doors and early risers walking dogs.
As he ran, Barrett reviewed what he knew.
Celia Ann had felt something was wrong in her final months.
She had been tired, losing energy, experiencing symptoms that troubled her even though Olivia assured her they were normal for her age and medical condition.
The journal entry Cadie had shown him suggested a woman who trusted her caregiver but couldn't shake a nagging sense that something was off.
The meeting that morning was with the woman closest to Celia Ann in her final months. He would listen, observe, and gather information. Olivia Stewart might be exactly what she appeared to be, a devoted caregiver grieving the loss of someone she had cared for.
Barrett completed his usual distance and returned to the hotel as the sun climbed higher. Back in his room, he showered and dressed in jeans and a dark button-down shirt. Professional but not intimidating. He wanted Olivia to feel comfortable talking to him, not defensive.
He checked his phone. The meeting with Olivia was confirmed for ten o'clock at her apartment. That gave him time for breakfast with Cadie first.
The thought of seeing her sent a wave of anticipation through him that he tried to ignore.
*****
The hotel dining room was small and inviting, with tables near windows looking out to the street. Barrett arrived a few minutes before seven and helped himself to coffee from the buffet. He chose a table in the corner that offered a view of the entrance and settled in to wait.
Cadie appeared in the doorway at seven on the dot. She scanned the room, and when her eyes met his, he felt a spark.
She wore jeans and a soft green sweater that brought out the color of her eyes. Her dark hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail. She looked beautiful and approachable, and Barrett felt his heart rate pick up in a way that had nothing to do with his morning run.
He stood as she approached the table. "Morning."
"Good morning." She set her purse on an empty chair and smiled at him. "Have you been up long?"
"For a while. I went for a run."
"Of course you did." Her smile widened.
They moved to the buffet together, selecting breakfast from the spread of eggs, bacon, fruit, and pastries. Cadie chose fruit and yogurt, while Barrett loaded his plate with protein. They returned to the table and sat across from each other.
"How did you sleep?" Barrett asked.
Cadie wrapped her hands around her coffee cup. "Not great, honestly. I kept thinking about meeting Olivia."
"That's understandable." Barrett took a sip of his coffee. "It's natural to be nervous."
"Are you nervous?"
"No, but I've done this kind of interview hundreds of times." He set his cup down. "I'll be observing her body language, her word choices, and how she responds to questions. You just be yourself and ask whatever you want to know. Don't worry about the investigative part. That's my job."
Cadie nodded. "What should I expect from her?"
Barrett considered the question. "She's been a professional caregiver for years, so she's used to dealing with families and emotional situations. She'll probably be polite, maybe a little guarded. She might be grieving."
"And you'll be watching for inconsistencies."
"Yes, and opportunities to gain more information. We know very little so far." Barrett found himself noticing small details about Cadie, the way she cut her fruit into precise pieces before eating it, how she took her coffee with just a touch of cream. "Did you read more of the journal last night?"
"I started, but I want to go through it carefully." She looked up at him. "I don't want to miss anything."
He didn't hesitate. "Whatever you find, we'll figure it out together."
"I'm really glad you're here, Barrett. I don't think I could do this alone."
"You're stronger than you think." He meant it. She might not be a trained investigator, but she probably had good instincts.
Cadie looked like she wanted to say something else, but the moment passed. She glanced at her watch instead. "What time are we meeting Olivia?"
"Ten o'clock. Her apartment is about fifteen minutes from here."
"Then we have some time." Cadie told him about her favorite restaurant in New Orleans, a small place in the French Quarter that served the best gumbo she had ever tasted. Barrett described a case he had worked on the previous year, a missing-person investigation that had ended with a happy reunion.
After eating, he followed her through the lobby, then up the stairs to her room. "I'll knock in about forty-five minutes."
"I'll be ready," Cadie said.
*****
Olivia Stewart's apartment was in an older building on the edge of the historic district. The neighborhood was modest but well maintained. Barrett parked on the street, and he and Cadie walked to the entrance together.
The building had six apartments, three on each floor. Olivia's was on the second. Barrett pressed the buzzer, and after a moment, a woman's voice came through the intercom. "Hello…?"
"It's Barrett Anson and Cadie Ladd. We have an appointment."
"Of course, come up."
The door buzzed, and they entered a small foyer with stairs leading up. The interior was clean but dated, with worn carpet on the steps and paint that had seen better days. They climbed to the second floor and found her apartment.
Olivia opened the door. She was a woman in her mid-forties, with light brown hair to her shoulders. She looked tired and her eyes were red, as if from crying. Maybe she hadn't been sleeping well. She wore dark slacks and a simple blouse, well groomed despite the signs of stress.
Her skin was pale, and there was little warmth in her smile. "Please, come in."
Cadie stepped inside and Barrett followed. The apartment was small and tidy, furnished simply but with care. A sofa and armchair were in the living area, with a small dining table near the kitchen. Photographs hung on the walls, mostly of elderly people in what looked like care facilities.
There were no personal photos of family or friends, just the professional ones and a few generic landscape prints.
"Can I get you coffee or tea?" Olivia said, gesturing toward the small kitchen.
"Coffee would be great, thank you," Cadie said.
Barrett nodded his agreement, using the moment to observe. The apartment matched what he would expect from a woman with Olivia's income. There were no signs of extravagance. It was a modest home of a woman who worked in healthcare.
Olivia prepared coffee with shaking hands. Barrett noticed the tremor but said nothing. It might simply be nerves about meeting them. She carried three mugs to the living area and set them on the coffee table, then settled into the armchair across from Barrett and Cadie on the sofa.
"I'm so sorry for your loss," Olivia said to Cadie, her eyes filling with tears. "Your aunt was a wonderful woman."
Cadie's voice was gentle. "I understand you cared for her for several years."
Olivia reached for a tissue from the box on the side table.
"I was with her for nearly four years. I started working with her when she could no longer manage on her own.
She needed help with daily tasks, medications, and getting to appointments.
" She dabbed at her eyes. "She was more than a patient to me. She became like family."
Barrett watched Olivia's face as she spoke. The grief appeared genuine, the emotion raw.
"Tell us about her final months," Barrett said, keeping his tone conversational. "How was her health?"
Olivia looked down at her coffee cup. "She declined gradually.
It started about six months ago. She was tired more often, sleeping more during the day.
Her energy just wasn't there anymore." She looked up, meeting Barrett's eyes.
"It happens with age, especially with her heart condition. The doctor said it was expected."
"Did her medications change during that time?" Barrett asked.
"A few times, the doctor adjusted her dosages to try to help with the fatigue and other symptoms." Olivia's hands tightened around her mug. "I was meticulous in administering her medications."
Barrett made a mental note to verify the dates of doctor visits and medication changes.
Cadie leaned forward slightly. "How did she pass?"
Olivia's expression crumpled. "Peacefully, in her sleep. I found her when I came in with her morning medications. I called 911 immediately, but there was nothing they could do."
Barrett noted the timeline. Olivia had found her in the morning, so she hadn't stayed overnight. And if she found Celia Ann at medication time, how did Olivia know the death had been peaceful? But he kept his expression neutral, just absorbing information.
"That must have been very difficult for you," Cadie said softly.