Chapter 6 #2
"It was rough." Olivia looked directly at her. "I know you didn't see your aunt often in recent years, but she spoke of you sometimes. She was proud of your music career and your success in New Orleans."
Cadie's expression flickered with emotion. "I wish I had visited more."
Olivia set her coffee cup down carefully. "What will you do with Stratton House? Will you keep it or sell it?"
The question came without preamble. Barrett noticed the shift in Olivia's demeanor, the way her focus sharpened on Cadie's response.
"I haven't decided yet," Cadie said.
Olivia's eyes stayed on Cadie. "It's such a valuable property. Your aunt worried so much about what would happen to it. She wanted it to continue serving the community, to remain a place for music and learning."
"That's important to me too," Cadie said.
"But it would be expensive to maintain and restore," Olivia said. "The building needs major work. Your aunt couldn't afford the repairs anymore. That's part of why it closed."
Barrett noticed that Olivia was focused on the property, more so than on sharing memories of Celia Ann.
For another twenty minutes, Olivia shared stories about Celia Ann's love of music and her dedication to the conservatory. The anecdotes were touching, painting a picture of a woman who had lived fully and cared deeply about her work.
But when the conversation turned to the will, Olivia's demeanor changed.
"I have to admit that I was hurt when I learned she hadn't mentioned me." Olivia's voice hardened slightly. "For four years I cared for her, and I was there every single day, managing her medications, taking her to appointments, making sure she was comfortable and safe."
She caught herself and softened her tone. "I'm sorry. That's not fair to you, Cadie. I'm just hurt. I thought she valued what I did, and the friendship that developed."
"I'm sure she appreciated everything you did for her," Cadie said.
Olivia nodded, but tears filled her eyes again.
Barrett shifted the conversation. "Can you tell me more specifically about when her decline accelerated? You mentioned about six months ago, but can you narrow that down?"
Olivia shifted in her seat and wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm not sure exactly. Maybe four or five months ago? It's hard to remember the specific timeline."
"Did you accompany her to doctor's visits during that period?" Barrett kept his tone casual, just gathering information.
"She had regular appointments. I took her to all of them." But Olivia avoided direct eye contact and fiddled with the tissue in her lap.
Barrett noticed her discomfort at certain questions.
She stood suddenly. "I kept some of your aunt's things, a few personal items I thought you might want."
She disappeared into another room and returned with a small cardboard box. Setting it on the coffee table, she lifted out items one by one. There were reading glasses in a case, a purple silk scarf, and a small jewelry box with a few pieces inside—and three prescription medication bottles.
"I kept meaning to dispose of these properly, but I couldn't bring myself to," Olivia said. "They're your aunt's heart medication and other prescriptions."
Barrett picked up one of the bottles, turning it to read the pharmacy label. Charleston Pharmacy, with a refill date visible. He set it down carefully beside the others, intending to examine them again later. The dates would tell him something about the timeline of medication use.
"She had so many pills," Olivia said, watching Barrett. "Heart medication, blood pressure medication, cholesterol medication. It was hard to keep track of them all."
Barrett thought that was an odd comment from a professional caregiver.
Cadie reached for the jewelry box, opening it to reveal a simple gold locket and a pair of pearl earrings. "Thank you for saving these."
"Of course." Olivia walked them to the door a few minutes later. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Mr. Anson."
The phrasing was interesting. She hadn't said, "I hope I was helpful" or "I hope this gives you peace," but "I hope you find what you're looking for," as if she knew he was searching for something specific.
"And Cadie," Olivia said with her hand on the doorknob, "I hope you'll honor your aunt's wishes for that building. She loved it more than anything."
Barrett didn't miss that she'd brought the conversation back to the property.
After saying goodbye, Barrett and Cadie went down the stairs and out to his car. Neither spoke until they were inside with the doors closed.
Cadie turned to him. "What did you think?"
Barrett started the engine but didn't pull away from the curb yet. "I think we should take a walk. There's a park nearby where we can talk."
*****
American Gardens wasn't far. Barrett parked on the street then escorted Cadie onto the paths. The park was beautiful, with oak trees providing shade, and walking paths winding through well-maintained gardens. A fountain splashed at the center, and benches were scattered throughout.
Barrett strolled for a while. He wanted to give Cadie a chance to think, to form her own impressions, before he shared his observations.
Finally, Cadie spoke. "She seemed really broken up about my aunt."
"She did."
"But she was clearly upset about not being mentioned in the will." Cadie glanced at him. "I don't know what to think."
"Her grief appeared genuine," Barrett said, "and her resentment is understandable. Four years is a long time to care for someone."
They walked a bit farther along the path. A couple passed them going the other direction, and Barrett waited until they were out of earshot before speaking.
"But I noticed a few things that seemed off," he said.
Cadie stopped walking and turned to face him. "Like what?"
Barrett chose his words carefully. He didn't want to bias Cadie's perceptions, but she deserved to know what he'd observed.
"When you asked how your aunt died, Olivia said it was peaceful, in her sleep.
But then she said she found her in the morning when she came to give medications.
If Olivia wasn't there overnight, how would she know it was peaceful? "
Cadie frowned. "I didn't think about that."
"It could have been her assumption," Barrett said. "If there were no signs of struggle, she assumed it was peaceful—or it could be a slip. She said it without thinking."
They started walking again. The path took them past flower beds still blooming despite the season.
"What else?" Cadie asked.
"She seemed focused on Stratton House and asked about your plans," Barrett said. "Maybe her concern about honoring your aunt's wishes was innocent, but maybe not."
Cadie was quiet for a moment. "She did bring it up more than once."
Barrett motioned for Cadie to take a seat near the fountain, then he sat next to her. The sound of water created a pleasant background noise, making their conversation feel more private.
"Do you think she knows more about my aunt's death than she told us?" she asked.
Barrett considered the question. "I think we need more information before we draw any conclusions. Grief and resentment aren't cause for alarm. But inconsistencies in a story are worth noting."
"She was a caregiver. Of course she managed medications." But Cadie's voice held uncertainty.
"That's right, she was a professional caregiver." Barrett turned slightly to face Cadie. "So why did she say it was hard to keep track of all the pills? Managing complex medication schedules for elderly patients was her job."
Cadie's eyes widened. "That is strange."
A woman walked past with a dog, and they fell silent until she was gone.
Barrett noticed a coffee cart near one of the park entrances. "Would you like some coffee?"
"Yes, that sounds good."
After buying coffee, Barrett found another bench with a view of the fountain.
Cadie wrapped her hands around the paper cup. "What's next?"
"I want to follow up on several things," Barrett said, "including pharmacy records for those medication bottles.
I need to verify the refill dates and see if they match expectations for proper usage.
I also want to talk to your aunt's doctor and learn more about the medication changes that Olivia mentioned. "
He took a sip of coffee, thinking through his strategy. "And I plan to talk to neighbors who might have observed things during your aunt's final months. Sometimes people see details they don't realize are significant."
"Do you think you'll find anything?"
"Your aunt's instincts told her that something was wrong. Whether that was true is something we're going to find out."
Cadie appeared determined. "I'm going to finish reading the journal. If she wrote more about what she was feeling or experiencing, it could be important."
"It could be very important," Barrett said. "Take your time with it. Note anything that seems relevant, and any mentions of symptoms or concerns."
Barrett drank his coffee, watching people pass by. There were joggers, parents with children, and visitors taking photographs. He reflected on his observations of Olivia, her nervousness in response to certain questions and her comment about medications being hard to track.
He was beginning to think Celia Ann Stratton had been right to request an investigation.
"Barrett?" Cadie's voice pulled him from his thoughts.
"Yeah?"
"What are you thinking?"
He looked at her. "Olivia cared for your aunt, but she could have misjudged or made a mistake."
Cadie nodded. "True, we can't rule out negligence."
"We don't know yet," Barrett said. "But if that was the case, it would be enough to make Olivia nervous when questioned."
Cadie frowned and Barrett instinctively put his hand on her thigh. He didn't pull back right away. A moment of recognition sparked, but Cadie glanced away.
Walking back to the car, Barrett was acutely aware of Cadie.
If circumstances were different, he would have held her hand or pulled her close.
His urge was to keep her safe, but also to be with her.
Yet he didn't want to ruin this. He had a job to do, but he realized that he hadn't really stopped caring about Cadie.