by J A Whiting
“Sure you can, but I know you won’t. You won’t turn away from helping others. It’s not in you.” Tessa lifted a hand when she saw a middle-aged woman enter the shop. “My client is here.”
Claire stood and before returning to the counter, she said, “I’ll keep you posted.”
When the work day was over and the shop had been closed for the day, Claire, Nicole, and Robby were in the back room cleaning and putting things away when there was a knock on the front door. Robby went to shoo away whoever was insisting they stay open, but then he saw Ian standing out on the sidewalk. “It’s your lover boy.”
“Mine or Claire’s?” Nicole kidded.
“Claire’s.” Robby opened the door to let Ian in. “Looking handsome as ever, Detective Fuller.”
“You, too.” Ian chuckled.
Claire came into the room wiping her hands on a dish towel and gave her boyfriend a kiss. “How are things going?”
“Not that great. I’ve been up since we parted ways in the Granary.”
Nicole made Ian a coffee and brought over a slice of chocolate cake and they all sat down together.
“You have some news?” Claire asked.
“Remember, whatever I say stays in this room.” Ian made eye contact with Robby.
Robby sat up straight, indignant. “Why are you looking at me? I’ve never breathed a word of anything you’ve ever said.”
“Just checking.” Ian stretched out his long legs to the side. “The victim’s name is Grace Dylan, twenty-five. She had an apartment here in the North End. Her parents live in Newton. She graduated from Boston University and was in a nurse practitioner program pursuing a graduate degree.”
“Boyfriend?” Nicole questioned.
“Harry Parker, twenty-six. Lives in the Back Bay. He’s a pharmacist at a hospital in the city.”
“Had they been having problems?” Claire questioned.
“Harry was interviewed by another detective. The guy said he and Grace were taking a break from each other.”
“I don’t like that term,” Nicole frowned. “You’re either together or you’ve broken up.”
“So they broke up,” Robby said. “Who did the breaking? Grace or the boyfriend?”
“That was unclear. Harry was wishy-washy on that question.”
Claire was sitting quietly taking it all in.
“Where was Grace prior to ending up in the Granary?” Robby asked.
“Grace’s best friend and roommate, Jenny Harrington, told us Grace took yoga classes a couple of times a week. She gave us the name of the place. The employees at the yoga studio told officers Grace had been in that day.”
“Does Harry have an alibi?” Claire asked.
“He said he was at home in his apartment after meeting a friend for a drink.” Ian shrugged.
“I suppose nobody can vouch for that?”
“Not yet.”
“The victim died from a gunshot wound?” Nicole asked.
“She suffered three gunshots. One to the shoulder, one to the side of the torso, and one to the head.”
The three people at the table with Ian groaned.
“Grace could have run into some random nut when she was walking home,” Nicole pointed out.
“Did she have any arguments or problems with anyone recently?” Claire asked. Something about the case picked at her and she couldn’t get the young woman’s face out of her mind. Grace was attractive with nice skin and lovely shoulder-length hair. She’d looked so peaceful when Claire saw her on the ground in the cemetery.
“We’re still looking into that.”
Robby rubbed the back of his neck. “She was probably walking around the city, and then ran into someone who was looking for trouble. She tried to run away, and he chased her into the Granary where he shot her.”
“Maybe.” Ian took another bite of his cake. “Except for one thing.”
Three faces stared at the detective.
“What is it?” Claire’s voice sounded uncertain.
Ian lifted his coffee mug. “It seems Grace might have been shot elsewhere and dumped in the Granary. We’ll know for sure when the medical examiner finishes his report.”
“Why would someone dump her in the cemetery?” Robby looked angry.
With a sigh and a quick look at Claire, Ian said, “That is one of the many questions we need to find the answer to.”
3
Grace Dylan and her roommate, Jenny Harrington, lived on the first floor of a four-story building near a small park in the North End close to Hanover Street.
“I wouldn’t live on the first floor,” Nicole said. “I don’t think it’s safe for two women alone.”
“I live on the first floor,” Claire pointed out.
“Your place is like a fortress.”
“It is not.” Claire chuckled and led the way up the front steps to the door. A list of names, apartment numbers, and associated buzzers were on the left wall and Nicole pushed the one for the Harrington-Dylan apartment and they were buzzed in.
Jenny Harrington was twenty-five years old, tall, with a medium-build, brown eyes and shoulder-length brown hair. “Please come in.” Her eyelids looked red and the tip of her nose was pink from being rubbed at with a tissue.
The two-bedroom apartment had wood floors, big windows, and an open floor plan between the kitchen, dining area, and living room. The kitchen had white cabinetry, solid surface countertops, and stainless steel appliances. One wall of the living room was brick and there was a non-working fireplace on another wall. The rooms were decorated with modern, tasteful furniture and rugs.
“This is beautiful.” Nicole admired the space before they took seats on the soft gray sofas.
“Thanks. Grace was the decorator. She really had a flair for making a place look like home.” Jenny cleared her throat and dabbed at her eyes with a balled-up tissue.
“Have you lived here long?” Claire asked, trying to make pleasant conversation before getting into the nitty-gritty.
“Grace and I moved in about three years ago. We both had graduated college and wanted a nice place to call home. This place is close to where we both work.”
“Grace was a nurse?” Nicole glanced around at the framed photographs.
“She worked as a nurse for three years. She’d just started a master’s degree to become a nurse practitioner.” Jenny bit her lower lip.
“Did she work while going to school?”
Jenny shook her head. “No, it’s too difficult to do both. Grace knew she wanted to go back to school so for the past three years she saved as much as she could to be able to pay for rent and food while she was studying.”
“It seems like she was an ambitious person,” Claire smiled at the young woman sitting across from her.
“She worked hard.” Tears gathered at the corners of Jenny’s eyes.
“Can you tell us how you and Grace met?”
Jenny swallowed. “We met in elementary school. We both grew up in Newton. We were in the same classes for years. We both went to Boston University for our undergraduate degrees. We’ve been friends for forever.”
“What do you do for work?” Claire asked the young woman. “Are you a nurse as well?”
“I’m a research consultant for a big financial firm. I work in the financial district. That’s why Grace and I chose this apartment. It was within walking distance to where we work and it was a great price. We couldn’t believe our luck.”
“Can you tell us a little about Grace?”
After taking a deep breath, Jenny spoke. “Like I said, we’d known each other for years. Grace was hardworking, she gave everything her best. She got great grades, got the job she wanted. She was funny and kind and lots of fun. Grace was a really positive person.” Jenny got up and brought some photos back from where they were displayed on a glass and metal console. “Here we are on a vacation together and these were taken at a Red Sox game. Here are a few shots from a wedding we went to.” The young woman sighed. “Gra
ce was nice to be around. She was always upbeat and cheerful. The apartment is so empty without her.”
“Were you at home on the evening Grace was killed?” Nicole questioned.
“No. I went away for a few days with my boyfriend. We went up to New Hampshire. The weather’s been nice so we decided to get away.”
“When did you leave?”
“Five days ago. We spent three days visiting Portsmouth and the surrounding areas. I got home early on the morning after Grace died. The police were here. I couldn’t believe it. I still can’t.” Jenny used both hands to push her hair back from her face.
“Were you in touch with Grace while you were gone?”
“I sent her some pictures I took. We texted a few times.”
“Did it seem like anything was wrong?”
“No. Everything seemed fine. Grace didn’t say a word about anything being wrong.”
“Grace took yoga classes?”
“She did, yeah. Two or three times a week. She said it was calming.”
“Did Grace attend on the same days each week?”
“No. The studio has drop-ins. You can go to any of the classes they offer without signing up in advance. Grace usually went in the early evening after she was done with her graduate classes.”
“Did she walk by the Granary when she went to yoga?”
“Sometimes. It depended on if she went there right from the hospital or after she did some errands,” Jenny explained.
“Had Grace complained about anything lately?” Claire watched Jenny’s face.
“She didn’t complain at all. Grace was happy. She loved her courses.”
“Grace was seeing a man named Harry Parker?”
Jenny’s expression seemed to harden. “She was. She broke it off.”
“Had she dated Harry for long?”
Jenny took a decorative pillow from the side of the sofa and clutched it in her lap. “Grace and Harry started dating during her junior year of college and continued until recently.”
“That’s a long time,” Nicole said. “Five years?”
Jenny gave a nod.
“What happened between them after all that time together?” Claire asked.
“I really don’t know. Grace wanted a change. I guess she fell out of love with him.” Jenny shrugged one shoulder. “Harry could be moody. He could be fun, too, but he was sort of opinionated and a bit of a know-it-all. We got along fine, but sometimes he was tiring. I don’t think it was the right match. I think Grace finally figured that out.”
“How did Harry take Grace breaking up with him?”
“I think he was kind of blindsided by it. I think he thought they were going to get married someday. Harry took it hard, but he should have known it was coming. Grace was spending less time with him.”
“Was he angry about it?” Claire asked.
“I guess he was, but he seemed more hurt than anything else. Harry didn’t understand what happened between them. He’d call Grace, text her. He came over unexpectedly one night. They talked in Grace’s room and when he left, he didn’t seem as upset as when he arrived. I thought he was probably accepting the end of the relationship.”
“What does Harry do for work?”
“He’s a pharmacist. He works at Boston General Hospital.”
“Have you seen Harry since Grace died?” Claire asked.
“No. I should contact him, but I’m just not up to it yet,” Jenny said.
Claire glanced around the apartment. “So this is a two-bedroom place?”
Jenny nodded. “And two bathrooms. We each had our own room and bath.”
“Can you show us Grace’s room?” Claire asked.
“Oh, sure.” Jenny sounded surprised by the request.
“Have Grace’s parents been by?”
“They came this morning. They took some of her things.” Jenny got up and ushered Claire and Nicole down the hall to a closed door. She opened it and stepped inside. “This is it.”
“Has anything been changed in here since the incident?” Nicole questioned.
“Mr. and Mrs. Dylan took a few of Grace’s things. A few pictures. Her jewelry. They got very upset while they were here and told me they’d return another day. The police took Grace’s laptop and her phone.”
Claire looked around the room at the unmade, double bed, the dresser standing next to the wall, an easy chair, a desk piled with books, a desk chair, some clothes strewn over the back of the easy chair, a pair of shoes kicked partway under the bed. She started to feel uneasy and the sensation grew the longer they were in the room.
“Does the room seem the same as always?” Claire moved to the window.
“Yeah, it’s the same as it always is.”
“Where are the blankets?” Claire asked. “Did Grace use a quilt?”
Jenny looked blankly at the bed. “I don’t know where they are. The blankets must be in the laundry.”
“What about a quilt? Was there a quilt on the bed?”
Nicole glanced over at her friend with a questioning expression.
Jenny put a hand to the side of her face. “Grace usually had a quilt on the bed. I don’t know where it is.” She opened the closet and looked inside. “Maybe it’s in the laundry, too.”
“There isn’t a pillow on the bed.” Claire took a look under the bed. “Where’s the laundry room?”
“In the basement. Do you want to see it?”
“Could we?”
The three women walked down the staircases to the laundry area of the cellar. There were six washing machines standing side by side along with four dryers. There was a wooden table where clothes could be folded and a metal rack with clothes hangers on it.
Claire opened each machine and looked inside. “They’re all empty.”
Jenny blinked and moved her eyes over the space looking to see if Grace’s bedding had been removed from the washing machine by one of the building residents and placed on a table. “Maybe the police took the stuff?”
“Maybe,” Claire mumbled.
On the way back up the staircase to return to the apartment, Nicole whispered to her friend when they reached the landing. “What are you thinking?”
A cold wave of air seemed to brush against Claire’s skin. “I’m thinking someone got into Grace’s room.”
4
“I got a strange feeling when I was in Grace’s bedroom. There were only sheets on the bed. Where was the quilt or the blankets?” Claire’s long, curly hair was pulled up in a bun. She was stocking the coffee bar with supplies in Tony’s Adamsburg Square Market and Deli.
Tony Martinelli, seventy-three, had owned the market for fifty years and had become close friends with Claire when she moved to the neighborhood. The Corgis spent the day with Tony whenever Claire was at work in the chocolate shop.
Augustus Gunther sat at the small round table sipping his morning coffee and reading the newspaper. In his early nineties, spry, slim, with light blue eyes and silver-gray hair, Augustus was a retired state supreme court judge who arrived early at the deli each day dressed in a suit, perfectly pressed shirt, and tie.
“Did the police take the bedding?” Augustus questioned.
“Why would they?”
“There may have been something suspicious about it.” Augustus moved the paper to the side of the table. “Tell me again what the young woman’s room looked like.”
Claire added some sugar packets to the bowl near the carafes of milk and hot water and for the second time, reported the way the room was arranged. “The bed was set up in the corner of the room, pushed against the wall. Probably because it would take up less room that way.”
“Did it look like there had been an altercation in the room? Was anything overturned? Were things askew?” Augustus questioned.
“No, but things may have been put back into place after a fight. Grace’s parents had been there. The police had been in there, too.”
Carrying a heavy box, Tony came out of the stock room with t
he Corgis trotting after him. “You two talking about that murdered girl?”
“Yes.” Augustus drank from his mug of coffee.
“Bad business. I can’t even read about it. When they talk about it on the news, I have to change the channel.” Tony took the box to the deli case.
“I’ll ask Ian if the police took the blankets.” Claire took a seat opposite Augustus.
“I’ve heard through my connections that it’s thought the young woman was killed elsewhere and then the body was left in the Granary.”
Claire nodded. “I heard that as well. The Granary gates were unlocked when Ian and I arrived.”
One of Augustus’s eyebrows raised. “Is that unusual? Are the gates locked at night?”
“I don’t know if the gates get locked. It would be a lot easier for the killer if the gates are left open at night.” Claire made eye contact with the judge. “I wonder if the killer has some connection to the Granary.”
“A worker?”
“Maybe?” Claire shrugged a shoulder, thinking the lock on the gates might not latch correctly and that it might be possible to push them open at times. “Ian should talk to those two women who found Grace’s body and ask if the gates stood open when they arrived or did they seem locked and when they pushed at them, the gates opened.”
“The killer must have had Grace’s body in his car,” Augustus suggested. “He noticed the entrance to the Granary was open and no one was around, so he took his chance and dumped the body.”
“I think so, too.” Lady padded over and sat beside the woman’s chair so Claire would pat her.
“Is there anything unusual about Grace’s life or circumstances?” Augustus asked. “Has Ian divulged anything about a possible motive?”
“I don’t think the police have any clues or hints about why someone killed her.”
“Time will tell.” Augustus adjusted his bow tie. “Was the woman into anything illegal? Drug dealing? Selling narcotics? Anything like that?”
Claire looked surprised. “I don’t think so. I haven’t heard anything like that. Grace has been described as a hardworking person, kind, fun. No one has suggested her being anything other than a pleasant person who wanted to advance in her career.”
