Page 69 of Little Hidden Fears

“Given Alexander handpicked his nephew for the position when it became available, it may anger him to learn Clark hired him an accounting assistant because his nephew isn’t the greatest at his job.”

“Makes sense.” Whitlock’s attention shifted from me to a butterfly fluttering across the windshield. “Did you know most adult butterflies live less than a few weeks?”

“I did not.”

“At least it’s longer than the life of a mayfly. Their life span as adults is a single day.”

“Glad I’m not a mayfly.”

“You and me both. What’s on the agenda for the rest of your day?”

“I thought I’d head over to the women’s center and talk to Barbara Adams. She runs the place. I want to know more about one of the women who visited the clinic and then disappeared. Noelle thought about hiring a private detective to find her.”

“Any idea why?”

“When she entered the clinic, she had a lot of bruising, and it was obvious she’d been beaten. After seeing the doctor, the woman fled. She hasn’t been seen since.”

“Huh, makes sense Noelle would want to hire someone to find her. Wonder if they ever did.”

I grabbed my coffee cup, opened the door, and hopped out, saying, “If I find anything out, I’ll let you know. Thanks for the coffee.”

CHAPTER 26

The Ophelia Albrecht Women’s Center was a bright-white, two-story building. With its large wraparound porch and Grecian columns, it reminded me of the house inGone with the Wind. I stepped inside, quick to notice the elegant, winding staircase and the wall next to it, which boasted a floor-to-ceiling mural of a lotus flower. Known for their ability to rise from the mud without so much as a blemish, lotus flowers symbolized strength, resilience, and rebirth—the perfect choice for a women’s center.

After I checked in with one of the security guards, I was given directions to Barbara’s office. As I made my way there, I passed by a woman wearing a pink track suit. She glanced at me for a quick second and then looked away, grabbing her shirt sleeve and yanking it down as if trying to hide the cuts I’d just seen. In that moment, I felt a range of emotions—gratitude for places like this one mixed with a heaping feeling of sadness. I couldn’t imagine what these women were going through and how brave they were to seek help.

I entered Barbara’s office, and she smiled, looking up at me and saying, “Georgiana Germaine, it’s nice to meet you. I was wondering when you’d stop by.”

She was younger than I expected, forty-ish, and dressed in a black, rayon pantsuit. Her long, dark hair was pulled into a neat side bun.

“I wasn’t aware you’d heard about me,” I said.

“I looked you up after having a chat with Noelle’s mother yesterday.”

“How’s Joanie doing?”

“She’s been better. Do me a favor and close the door. I’m guessing the conversation we’re about to have would be best had in private.”

I closed the door, and she gestured at a chair.

I sat down.

“How are things going with your investigation?” she asked.

“A little slow, but I’m gaining momentum.”

“I’m glad to hear it. It’s been hard, being at work these past several days. It’s difficult to stay strong, when all I want to do is to break down and cry. But I have no choice, I must be strong for the women at the center. They deserve it.”

“Were you and Noelle close?”

“I’d like to think so. I was hired to manage the center right before it opened, and I’ve been here ever since.”

“I heard Dominic went to great lengths to keep Noelle’s name discreet, given the nature of the center and the services it provides.”

“Dominic was protective of all of us, always thinking of ways to keep us, and the women who come here, safe. We give our first names to the women, but not our last, and we don’t talk to the ladies about our personal lives ... not often, anyway. Sometimes it’s easier said than done.”

“I bet.”

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