Garden of Secrets

by Barbara Freethy

  But maybe Rachel didn’t deserve one. Maybe Joe had truly had enough. And maybe it was all none of her business.

  She stopped at a light and sighed, weary of the confusion muddying her mind. This was why she didn’t do serious relationships.

  How quickly things changed. Last night, she’d been as happy as she’d ever been. They’d gotten so close, physically and emotionally. Now there was a huge wall between them named Rachel.

  Her cell phone rang, and she glanced down at the number. It was Joe. She really didn’t want to pick up. But . . . “Hello.”

  “I called her back,” Joe said shortly. “Not because I wanted to but because I needed to. It’s over with Rachel. I told her that there was no going back.”

  “Maybe you should think about it,” she replied, feeling uncertain and a little scared.

  “Don’t do this, Charlotte. Don’t use Rachel as a reason to back off.”

  She jumped as someone honked the horn behind her. She drove down the street and then pulled over.

  “Charlotte?” Joe said again. “Are you still there?”

  “Yes, I’m here. I just don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll meet me and we’ll talk about this.”

  “I need to think.”

  “That’s the last thing you need to do,” he said firmly. “You’ll just talk yourself out of this. I know you’re gun shy. I am, too. But last night was amazing. We’re great together—and not just in bed.”

  “What happens in the dark doesn’t always make it to daylight.”

  “I’m coming over.”

  “No,” she said quickly. “I don’t want to have this conversation in earshot of my mother. Plus, my brother is there, and Annie and the baby.”

  “Then I’ll meet you somewhere else. You’re not really going to the hospital, are you?”

  “No.”

  “How about the bell tower?”

  She hesitated again. “It’s a busy day, Joe. We have the parties tonight; maybe we should just put this on hold.”

  “No way. Either agree to meet me, or I’m going to camp out on your mother’s doorstep.”

  “Fine, I’ll be at the tower in an hour. I need to go home and check in on my brother.”

  “I’ll see you then,” he promised.

  She closed her phone and tossed it onto the seat, hoping she’d made the right decision. As she was thinking about it, her gaze caught on a couple standing by the front entrance to the Seagull Inn.

  Although she couldn’t hear what they were saying, it was clear that they were arguing. The man, who appeared to be in his thirties, wore a gray hooded sweatshirt and jeans. The woman was dressed in jeans and boots and a bright red jacket. From the back, she looked a lot like Pamela. The man grabbed her arm, and she yanked it away. Then he slapped the woman hard across the face.

  “Oh, my God.” Charlotte pulled her car keys out of the ignition and jumped out of the car just as the man shoved the woman up hard against the cement wall of the building. She stumbled and fell to the ground. “Stop!” Charlotte shouted, running down the street.

  The man glanced at her and took off running in the opposite direction. Charlotte moved toward the woman. It was Pamela. Her temple was bleeding from a long cut over her eyebrow, and her eye was swelling up.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, squatting down next to her.

  Pamela stared at her in bemusement, her hands going up to her head, coming away with blood. She whitened at the sight. “I’m—I’m bleeding.”

  “Let me help you.”

  “Charlotte,” Pamela said, recognition dawning in her eyes. Then she glanced past Charlotte. “Where did he go?”

  “I don’t know. We need to call the police.”

  “No police,” Pamela said quickly. “I just need to go to my room.”

  “You’re staying here?”

  “Yes.”

  Charlotte helped her get to her feet and walked with her into the lobby of the inn. The desk clerk gave them a curious look, but Pamela didn’t give her a chance to ask questions, walking quickly to the elevator, head down. The doors opened right away, and Charlotte followed her inside.

  “Who was that guy?” she asked as they rode up to the second floor.

  “Nobody.” Pamela stepped off the elevator and walked down the hall to her room. Her hand shook as she foraged around in her bag for her key. Finally, she found it and opened the door.

  The room hadn’t been made up yet, Charlotte noted, following Pamela into the messy bathroom.

  “You might need stitches,” she said as she ran a washcloth under the water, then gently wiped away some of the blood. “Let me take you to the hospital.”

  “I’m fine,” Pamela said. But she didn’t seem fine when she sank onto the edge of the tub.

  Charlotte knelt down in front of her. “At least let me call the police.”

  “No hospital. No police,” Pamela said. “What are you even doing here? You don’t like me. You don’t care what happens to me.”

  “I care about anyone who is hurt,” she said. “You need some ice.”

  “I’ll get it myself. You can go.”

  “Who was that guy?”

  Pamela stared back at her. “You didn’t recognize him?”

  “No. Is he your boyfriend?”

  Pamela shook her head. “He’s nobody.”

  “Has he hit you before?”

  “A lot of people have hit me,” she said wearily. “Believe me, this is nothing.”

  “Why would you let anyone treat you like that?”

  “You think I have a choice? I didn’t grow up the princess of Angel’s Bay, like you did. I had to fight for everything I got. And I’m still fighting.”

  “You weren’t fighting him.”

  “It would have only made him hit me harder. I know when to pick my battles.” She took the towel from Charlotte’s hands. “I’m fine. You need to go.”

  Charlotte hesitated. “What about Andrew? Do you want to call him?”

  “Get out, Charlotte, before I throw you out.”

  Pamela didn’t look as if she could even stand up, much less throw Charlotte out, but it was clear she wanted her to leave. So Charlotte got to her feet and walked through the bedroom and out the door. She went straight to her car, muttering about how ungrateful Pamela was. If she hadn’t stepped in, the guy might have hit her again. Pamela should have thanked her instead of telling her to get out.

  But as she sat in her car, she started thinking about the nasty cut on Pamela’s head. And how she really should take care of it. Another few minutes of debate had her grabbing her medical bag out of her backseat and digging through it for first-aid supplies. She took what she needed and then headed back down the street. There was no one at the front desk when she walked in, so she went straight to the elevator. When she got off on the second floor and approached Pamela’s room, she saw that the door was slightly ajar. Maybe Pamela had gone to get some ice.

  She pushed open the door, saying, “Pamela, I brought you some antiseptic ointment and a bandage. That cut really needs—”

  Her mouth dropped open in shock. Pamela was standing by the desk, and the man who’d hit her was right behind her. And next to them on the table were two pieces of glittering jewelry. Her heart skipped a beat.

  The necklace. The ring. Pamela had had them all along.

  “You really shouldn’t have come back,” Pamela said.

  “You stole the jewelry from your sister? You’re the one who almost killed her?”

  Pamela glanced nervously over her shoulder, and that’s when Charlotte saw the gun in the man’s hand.

  He raised it, aiming it straight at her. “Looks like we’re going to have some company on our trip.”

  She didn’t know what to do, what to say.

  He walked slowly toward her. “We’re going to go down the back stairs and through the alley, and you’re going to keep your mouth shut. Understand?”

  “Just leave her here,
” Pamela said. “She’s not going to cause any trouble.”

  “If we leave her here, they’ll be on us too fast. Put the jewels in the bag, and let’s go.”

  Pamela shoved the ring and the necklace into a plastic baggie and then thrust it into her shoulder bag. “Just do what he says, Charlotte, and you won’t get hurt.”

  She didn’t believe that for a second; there was an air of violence about this man. There was also a certain familiarity to his features, although it was difficult to get a good look with his hood over his head. Still . . .

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “No questions.” He waved the gun at her. “Walk.”

  She turned slowly around, her mind racing with the possibilities as he urged her out the door and into the hallway. There was no way she wanted to get into a car with these two. She had the terrible feeling that if she left the inn with them, she was never going to get away. She opened her mouth to scream, just as something hard came down on the back of her head. And everything went black.

  Charlotte wasn’t at the bell tower when Joe arrived. He was a little early, but as each minute passed, his stress level increased. Maybe she wasn’t coming. Perhaps Rachel had scared her away for good. Or maybe her own worries about commitment, about children, were keeping her away. He never should have given her the hour she’d asked for.

  Another ten minutes passed, and he was starting to feel like a fool. What if Charlotte just didn’t feel about him the same way he felt about her? He had a lot of baggage. He had already failed at one marriage. Maybe she wasn’t being scared, she was being smart.

  He gave her another five minutes, then went down the stairs and drove to her mother’s house. Her car wasn’t in the driveway. He tried her cell phone, which went to voice-mail. Had he missed her?

  He got out of his car and went up the front walk.

  Annie opened the door, giving him a welcoming smile. “Hello, Chief.”

  “Annie. How are you doing?”

  “Good. Come in.”

  As he walked into the living room, he saw Charlotte’s brother on the couch, his leg propped up on the ottoman. He gave him a nod.

  “Joe Silveira, right?” Jamie asked.

  “Right, and you’re Jamie.”

  “Only Charlotte and my mother call me that. Everyone else calls me James. I’d get up, but . . .”

  “No problem,” Joe said, walking over to the couch to shake his hand. “That looks nasty.”

  “I’ll survive,” he said with a shrug.

  “I’m looking for Charlotte. Is she here?”

  “I haven’t seen her since yesterday.”

  Joe looked over at Annie, who was now perched on the edge of the couch. “She was on her way over here when I talked to her about an hour ago.”

  “She hasn’t been home,” Annie said. “Maybe she went to the hospital.”

  His uneasiness deepened. Charlotte had said she was going home.

  “Is something wrong?” Annie asked.

  The last thing he wanted to do was worry Charlotte’s family. “No, I just wanted to talk to her. Tell her I stopped by, will you?”

  “Of course,” she said.

  He looked at Jamie. “I’ll see you around.”

  “I have a feeling you will,” Jamie said with a smile. “Charlotte’s got a thing for you.”

  “Not so sure about that,” he said, feeling a little grim about his prospects in that department.

  “She’s a tough nut to crack but worth the effort.”

  “I’m trying, believe me.”

  He drove back to the church, but there was no sign of her car in the parking lot. It was starting to rain and it was now almost thirty minutes past their meeting time. Maybe she’d changed her mind or had an unexpected emergency. He called the hospital and asked them to page her. A few minutes later, a nurse came on the line saying that Charlotte wasn’t there. She wasn’t at home, she wasn’t here, she wasn’t at the hospital. Where the hell was she?

  Andrew’s house?

  His stomach turned over at that thought. No way was he going there. If she’d run to Andrew again, then maybe they were done.

  He drove to the police station. He might as well check in at work. At least there he knew what he was doing.

  When Joe arrived at the station, Andrew was in the lobby. He gave him a wary but determined look, and Joe’s gut tightened.

  “If this is about Charlotte . . .” he began.

  “Only partially,” Andrew said. “I was going to speak to Jason, but he’s not in. Can we talk in your office?”

  “All right.” He ushered Andrew into his office and shut the door behind him. Andrew looked tired, with dark shadows under his eyes. Joe moved behind his desk and sat down. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Pamela may have been involved with the robbery at the manor,” he said abruptly. “We had a disturbing conversation last night. She’s been involved with a man who grew up here, Mitch Harding. He got out of jail a few months ago, and Pamela suggested to me that he might have had something to do with the robbery.” Andrew paused. “If Mitch was involved, then Pamela was, too. Mitch couldn’t have done it alone.”

  Joe sat up straighter. “Why would Pamela stick around Angel’s Bay if she was responsible?”

  “I think she came here so she wouldn’t be a suspect. And she hung around because Theresa didn’t remember anything, and she wanted to keep up with the investigation. Mitch Harding is bad news, and Pamela can’t control him. That may be how Theresa got hurt.”

  Joe gave Andrew a speculative look. “And you would know all this . . .”

  “Because I used to live with them,” Andrew said tightly. “In our early twenties, we partied together a lot. In the beginning, it was fun. But Mitch got into more addictive drugs, and he needed money to support his habit. He started stealing. Petty stuff in the beginning. Then he kept increasing the stakes. Finally he ended up in jail. If you look up his record, you’ll get the whole story.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us this before?”

  Andrew drew in a long breath. “I thought there was only a very slim possibility that Pamela had anything to do with what happened. When she told me about Mitch, I asked her to talk to you.”

  “Bullshit. You didn’t come in because you didn’t want us digging into your past.” Joe looked him straight in the eye. “You didn’t want Charlotte to know the kind of man you’d been.”

  “That was part of it, too,” Andrew said with a nod.

  Joe was surprised by Andrew’s candor, but that didn’t make up for his withholding information. “I need to talk to Pamela.”

  “I’d like to go with you. She might be more forthcoming if she feels she has some support.”

  “And you want to support her? Why?”

  “Because I know where she’s been. Because I found my way out, but I didn’t try to take anyone else with me.”

  “So you want to save her soul?”

  “That is my business,” Andrew said, getting to his feet. “She’s at the Seagull Inn.”

  “Let’s go.” On his way out, Joe asked one of his officers to run a background check on Mitch Harding.

  They didn’t speak on the short drive to the inn. When Joe pulled into a parking spot down the street, he was surprised to see Charlotte’s car. Had she gone to the inn to see Pamela?

  The hotel clerk gave them a nervous smile. She was a young woman, barely out of her twenties. “Can I help you?”

  “We need Pamela Baines’s room number.” Joe flashed his badge in case she had any doubts.

  “Two-twelve,” she said. “Is this about what happened earlier?”

  “What happened earlier?”

  “I saw Ms. Baines going upstairs with some blood on her face. There was another woman with her, a blonde.”

  Dammit! Without another word, he bypassed the elevator and ran up the stairs.

  “You think she was with Charlotte?” Andrew asked, right on his heels.

  “Her car
is right down the street.”

  “I noticed that, too, but they hate each other. Why would they be together?”

  Joe pushed open the stairwell door to the second floor and rapped sharply on two-twelve. The door wasn’t latched and swung right open. As he walked inside, fear began to take root. There was a bloody towel in the bathroom and more blood on the rug. But there was no one in sight.

  “Maybe Charlotte took Pamela to the hospital,” Andrew said. “The clerk said she was injured.”

  Joe took out his phone and called the ER. Pamela Baines had not been admitted, and no one had seen Dr. Adams. “Not there,” he said tersely, pacing around the room, looking for some clue. “When’s the last time you talked to Pamela?”

  “Last night about six.”

  “What were her plans?”

  “She didn’t say. I didn’t ask.”

  Joe’s next call was to the mayor, on the off chance that Pamela had gone there. Robert told him that he hadn’t seen Pamela since yesterday, and Theresa was sleeping.

  “What’s next?” Andrew asked, concern in his eyes.

  He should be concerned. He should have come forward a hell of a lot earlier. But now wasn’t the time for that conversation.

  “We’ll go back to the station. I want to get some officers looking for the two of them.”

  They stopped at the front desk on the way down. “Did you see anyone else come into the inn this morning who didn’t belong here?” he asked the desk clerk.

  She shook her head. “We had another couple check in, but other than that, it’s been quiet.”

  “Do you know if Ms. Baines has had any visitors since she arrived?”

  “There was a guy here the other day who came down the elevator with her.”

  “Could you identify him if you saw him again?”

  “I don’t know. He had on a baseball hat and baggy clothes. I didn’t really see his face.”

  “All right. Make sure that no one enters that room until one of my officers has gone through it.”