And sure enough, a few hours later, Kade was sitting at his desk with a pile of printed documents in front of him. Maile pointed at the stack, indicating the colored sticky tabs she’d added to certain pages. “I labeled basic stats with green. But the gist is she doesn’t live far from here, has been working for a temp agency, and has no family in the area. Also, no criminal record.”
“Okay.”
“Work history’s labeled with blue. Not much info there. Though, she is the founder of a local charity. Gossip has the yellow tabs. Lots of that available.”
“Gossip?” he asked, glancing up from the top page, which held Tessa’s address and a newspaper photo of her in a party dress.
Maile pushed her black bob behind her ears and frowned. “Apparently, she was married to a pastor of one of those big time mega-churches in Atlanta up until a year ago. Pretty high-profile guy, Sunday sermons were broadcast on regional television, that kind of thing. The divorce made the society pages since they were a prominent couple in the area. Looks like things got nasty. Each accused the other of infidelity. She didn’t say much more than that publicly but the husband had lots to say. He accused her of being a pill popper, a gold digger, a cheater, and said she shirked her godly and wifely duties . . .”
“Wifely duties? What the fuck?”
“That’s what I’m saying. That line alone made me want to find this guy so I could kick him in his junk. Nothing was substantiated from what I can tell. And apparently this Marilyn Wallace, the reporter who penned most of the negative stories, used to be Tessa’s close friend, so that’s pretty interesting that she’d turn on her so quickly. My guess is she had some added motivation to write up the stories. But regardless, it looks like the society pages ate the shit up. The pastor’s reputation got dinged pretty good. People left his church, and he almost lost the TV slot. But looks like after some damage control, he was able to hold on to his contract and convince his congregation to give him the benefit of the doubt. She wasn’t so lucky. The press labeled her the washed up, pampered ice princess and called it a Cinderella story gone bad. Apparently, she didn’t come from money.”
No. She didn’t come from anything, Kade thought, an old sadness welling up. And he knew beyond a doubt that Tessa would have never popped pills. Tess’s birthmother had abandoned her because of drugs. In high school, Tess hadn’t even liked taking over-the-counter medicine, so that part was definitely bullshit and lies. He skimmed through a few of the documents. “Who was the guy?”
Maile flipped through the pages on her steno pad. “Um, something Barrett. Hold up, I wrote it down.”
But Kade already knew the rest of the answer, a bitter, icy cold moving through him. “Douglas Barrett.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” she said.
Kade sat back in his chair, feeling like a truck had rolled right over him. Douglas Barrett. It’d been a name he’d tried to block out of his memory completely, one that dragged him back to years he never wanted to revisit. Doug fucking Barrett. God, Tessa had gone through with it. She’d married that sociopath anyway. And had stayed with him all those years. She’d known what Doug had done that night—well, enough of what he’d done—and had still given herself to him.
For the security. The money.
Things Kade hadn’t been able to offer her.
“Boss, you okay?” Maile asked, her brows pinched together. “You don’t look so great.”
He rubbed his eyes and took a long, deep breath, doing his best to shove the past back to where it belonged. He was beyond all that. He would not let one drop of that leak in. All he was interested in was learning more about who Tess was now. “I’m all right. Anything else I should know?”
Maile pulled a paper from the bottom of the pile and slid it his way. “Last year, her charity applied to be the sponsored organization for our annual Dine and Donate event. We didn’t select them since we were focusing on homelessness last year. But they’re on the consideration list for this year since we’re planning to choose a charity focused on children.”
He perused the application in front of him. It’d been filled out by the director of Bluebonnet Place but under the founder column was Tessa’s married name. Even seeing Doug’s last name sitting next to hers made his stomach want to heave. But an idea was already forming in his head, lifting his mood a bit. “Are we close to selecting an organization yet?”
Maile sighed. “No, with Evelyn on medical leave, we don’t have anyone heading up things right now. I think PR is looking to hire someone from the outside to handle it.”
Kade smiled and pushed the application back toward Maile. “Please call the charity director and tell her we’re considering the organization, but that I insist on meeting with the founder to find out more about their work first.”
Maile narrowed her eyes, evaluating him like his grandmother did that first night he’d shown up on her doorstep. “Kade Vandergriff.”
“What?” he asked, feigning innocence.
“You have that scheming look on your face. What are you up to?”
“Me? I’m just trying to get more involved in my company’s charitable contributions.”
Maile shook her head and looked to the ceiling. “Lord, help us all. Kade’s got his eye on a woman.”
“Aww, you know you’re the only girl for me, Mai,” he teased as she rose from her chair.
She glanced back over her shoulder and stuck out her tongue. “Eww boys, gross.”
He chuckled. “I don’t blame you. I’ve seen your girlfriend. I wouldn’t leave her for me, either.”
She smirked. “So who is this Tessa McAllen to you, really?”
He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his desk and looking at the photo of Tessa again. “Guess we’re about to find out.”