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
