by J A Whiting
“How long ago did you meet up with Michael and Ashley?” Nicole asked.
“Not long ago, maybe a month?”
Claire asked, “Did Ashley and your brother seem happy together?”
Sally’s eyes widened. “Michael didn’t kill her. He was at work. People saw him there. No way he would do such a thing.”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant.” Claire tried to soothe the young woman. “We know your brother was at work.” The possibility of a hit man floated in her head which would mean that whoever set up the killing wouldn’t have been present when Ashley was shot, but Claire didn’t mention any of that. “We know people vouched for him being in the office. I only wondered if Michael and Ashley seemed like they were serious about one another.”
“I don’t know how serious they were. They seemed happy.”
“How’s your brother doing?” Nicole asked gently.
Sally’s lip quivered. “He’s not doing well at all. He gave his notice at the financial firm. He told me he’d had it with living in the city. He’s planning to move to Maine.”
“He quit his job?” Nicole was surprised.
Sally nodded. “I think he’s being too hasty, but he didn’t listen to me. He only gave the firm a month’s notice. He’s already selling his things.”
Claire asked, “How long has he worked there?”
Sally’s face scrunched up while she thought about it. “He started right after he graduated college. He’s thirty now, so about eight years?”
“Has Michael ever expressed dissatisfaction with the firm?” Claire considered that he might have been tired of his job and Ashley’s murder may have pushed him to do something he’d wanted to do for some time.
“Not to me. Never.”
“Was your brother unhappy living in the city?” Nicole wondered if the man wanted a more suburban or rural lifestyle.
“Michael always loved Boston.”
Claire needed to ask how Michael was acting before the murder. “Before Ashley died, did your brother seem himself? Did he seem worried or like something was bothering him?”
“Like I said, I didn’t see him much.” Sally seemed apologetic about not being close to her sibling. “We were both busy a lot. I’m not sure if anything was wrong with him.” A tear escaped from her eye and she brushed it away with a quick motion. “The whole thing is very upsetting. Why would someone shoot Ashley? Why did this happen? Do you think Michael is in danger? Is that why he’s running away?”
Unfortunately, Claire didn’t have an answer for that.
8
Claire and Nicole found the brownstone they were looking for on the edge of the Beacon Hill neighborhood. There was a rectangular sign with the words Tag Sale Today – Third Floor pushed into the small patch of lawn beside the steps that led up to the open, glossy black, front door. Even though they weren’t there to buy, when Claire saw the number of people who were coming out carrying items, she wondered if there was anything left in the apartment.
The large two-bedroom place had high ceilings, beautiful woodwork, and huge windows that looked out over leafy trees. One big room served as the living and dining rooms and the kitchen had been remodeled with high-end finishes and appliances. People swarmed over the items for sale which included just about everything in the place.
A tall, good-looking man around thirty with sandy-colored hair and wearing jeans with a white t-shirt walked around answering questions and taking payment for the things. He was quiet and business-like and his face appeared drawn and tired.
Nicole exchanged a look with Claire. The man was Michael Burton, Sally’s stepbrother and the murdered woman’s boyfriend. The crowd thinned and as Nicole pretended to browse, Claire approached the man.
“You must be Michael,” she said. “I met your sister the other day.”
Michael made eye contact with Claire, but didn’t say anything.
“I’m Claire Rollins.” She gave her condolences to the young man and then said quietly, “I was the one who found Ashley in the car.”
Michael’s mouth opened slightly and his eyes widened, and his body seemed to shiver for a moment. “Claire? Is that what you said your name is?”
Claire gave a nod and told the young man again how sorry she was.
“It must have been awful for you to find her like that.” Michael’s already pale face had lost every last bit of color. He rubbed the side of his jaw.
Claire said, “Sally mentioned you were selling off some things. My friend, Nicole, is looking for accessories for her apartment so we decided to come by. Actually, the real reason was because I felt the need to tell you how sorry I was.”
“I appreciate it.” Michael shifted nervously from foot to foot as if he didn’t know what else to say.
Claire gestured to the apartment sale. “You’re leaving town?”
“I can’t stay here anymore.”
“Where will you go?” Claire’s voice held a kind tone.
“I have a little cottage up in Maine, way up in the woods. I’m going up there for a while.” The man’s jaw muscles twitched.
“I heard you work at Pennington Financial. You’ve given notice?”
“I did. I’m not sorry. I need a change.”
“Because I found Ashley, it’s always going through my mind. I can’t seem to stop thinking about it.” Claire watched Michael’s face. “Do you have any idea who might have done this?”
Michael bit his lower lip and shook his head. “No. I have no idea at all. It must have been some … troubled person. Ash was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Claire knew the police must have told him that Ashley’s ring had been removed and that it could indicate a hit man was responsible for her death. The police must have told Michael to keep it quiet. The man might be terrified that whoever put out a hit on his girlfriend might also send someone to kill him. He must be getting out of Boston to keep a low profile.
Another thought ran through Claire’s mind and it made her shudder. What if Michael is the one who hired the killer and is getting out of town to try and save his skin?
“I want peace and quiet,” Michael said. “I’m a wreck. I need to go somewhere I can try and regain my sanity.”
Claire asked gently, “Was there anything going on at work that may have worried Ashley? Was she concerned about anything, or anyone?”
Michael sighed. “There’s a lot of pressure in a firm like Pennington, the demands, the clients. You have to be a certain kind of person to handle it. Ash was able to keep things in perspective. She was ambitious and resilient. She didn’t seem worried about anything.”
“Could someone perceive her ambition as stepping on some people’s toes? Might someone have felt threatened by Ashley?”
Michael thought it over. “So threatened, the person would kill her? I can’t imagine such a thing.”
Nicole came over to them and Claire introduced her.
“Did you find anything you like?” Michael asked. He seemed eager to change the subject to something other than Ashley.
Nicole said, “I love that leather chair, but it has a sold tag on it. The same with the side table lamps.”
“Yeah, too bad,” Michael said. “A few days ago, the woman in the penthouse had a tag sale and sold all her stuff. I think you would have liked her style.”
A flutter of anxiety scuttled over Claire’s skin. “Someone else in the building moved out?”
“Yeah. My lease is up at the end of the month anyway, but hers was still in force for five more months. She didn’t care. When she heard about Ashley, she decided to get out.”
“Were you friends with the woman?”
A quick smile showed on Michael’s face and then disappeared. “I’d never even met her before the other day … well, I saw her once in a while in the building, but I didn’t know her. People kind of keep to themselves in this building.”
Nicole said, “She acted awfully fast. She must have really been shaken by what happene
d.”
“She told me she’d tired of city-living and Ashley’s death was the catalyst to push her into action.”
“So she’s paying the lease for five more months, but is leaving anyway?” Nicole asked.
Michael said, “The woman gives me the impression she has money. I guess it’s not an issue for her.”
“What’s the woman’s name?” Claire asked.
“Rose Smith.”
“Smith?” Claire’s heart skipped a beat. “The same last name as Ashley. They weren’t related?”
Michael shook his head. “No. Smith is the most common last name in America.”
“Is she still living in the building?” Claire’s words tumbled out. “Did she move away already? Is she upstairs?”
“She left. She told me she’s staying with someone in the Back Bay until she finishes sorting everything out.”
“Why?” Adrenaline poured through Claire’s veins. “Why not stay here in her own place?”
“I have no idea.” Michael shrugged.
“Do you know where she’s staying? Do you have her contact information?”
Nicole eyed her friend wondering why Claire seemed so shook.
Michael said, “Sorry. I don’t have any contact for her.”
Claire questioned, “Do you know what she did for work?”
“She told me she owned some clothing boutiques in the city. I think she said there’s another one in Cambridge.”
“Do you recall the name of the stores?” Claire tried to calm her tone.
Michael ran his hand over the top of his head. “Ah, it was something like … oh, I know, it was Rose in Bloom. That was it.” The man looked at Claire. “Do you think you know her?”
“No,” Claire said and then made up a story. “I know someone who’s looking for a short term lease. I wondered if Rose might be interested in subletting. Is she our age?”
“Maybe thirty, early thirties?”
“What does she look like?”
The man looked at Claire. “About your height. Slim, but has some curves. Long, dark hair, blue eyes. Attractive.”
“Did Ashley know her?”
“Ash never mentioned her. Everybody’s busy, working crazy hours. We never saw some of the people who live here, Rose included.”
“Was Rose a client at Pennington, by any chance?” Claire questioned.
“I don’t know.” Michael’s face registered surprise. “We don’t know who all the firm’s clients are. Why do you ask?”
Claire had no idea why she sensed something important about this woman. “Just wondering if Rose and Ashley knew each other.”
More people had gathered in the apartment to look over the things for sale and an older woman approached Michael to ask him a few questions.
“Nice to meet you. Excuse me,” he told Nicole and Claire as he went off to the kitchen with the woman to see what she wanted to buy.
Once outside, Nicole gave her friend the eye as they walked along the brick sidewalk in the sun. “What’s going on? What are you thinking? Why so many questions about the woman who lived in the penthouse?”
“I got a strong sensation about her.” A slight sheen of sweat showed over Claire’s forehead. “My heart is racing.”
“Do you want to go sit in the park? Rest for a while?” Nicole looked at her friend with concern.
“I’m okay. The feeling is strong. It’s picking at me. Rose Smith. She and Ashley have the same last name.”
“Smith?” Nicole rolled her eyes. “It’s a pretty common name. How can that be important?”
“It is though. It’s very important. I know it is.” Claire stopped and turned around so she could look up to the top floor of the brownstone they’d just left. “Rose Smith sure took off fast after Ashley got shot.”
Nicole’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. Are you thinking Rose killed Ashley?”
Claire met Nicole’s gaze. “I don’t know what to think. That’s why we’re going shopping.”
“Shopping? Now? How is that going to help us figure things out?” Nicole looked at Claire like she’d lost her mind and then the reason dawned on her.
“Have you ever been to that boutique?” Claire asked. “Rose in Bloom?”
“Never,” Nicole frowned. “I don’t like shopping. I do everything online.”
“Well, this afternoon you’re going to shop the old-fashioned way. In a real store.” Claire smiled and linked her arm through Nicole’s as they continued down the street. “And with any luck, we’ll be able to have a little chat with Rose Smith.”
9
The two young women walked along the street past the Boston Common and through the Public Garden to the Back Bay area of fashionable stores and restaurants. Claire had looked on her phone for the address of Rose in Bloom and they found the store just off Newbury Street.
The high-end boutique carried dresses, shirts, slacks, and swimsuits, cardigans, light jackets, and also had a small selection of expensive shoes and accessories. Cut-glass chandeliers hung from the ceilings, a grouping of white leather chairs were placed on one side of the room, the floors were light-colored wood, and the walls were painted a soft, creamy shade of off-white.
Nicole picked up a clutch purse, turned it over to see the price, and almost dropped the thing from shock. When she turned to Claire with a look that said, ‘let’s get out of here,’ a tall, very slim salesperson with a blond bob approached with a cool smile.
“How can I help you?”
“We’re just browsing,” Claire informed the woman.
“For anything in particular?” The salesperson’s long black eyelashes flicked up and down as she blinked.
Nicole wanted to say, yes, for something we can afford.
“Not really.” Claire smiled and moved to a display table of necklaces and bracelets.
“Let me know if I can show you anything.” The person sauntered away.
“Did you see these prices,” Nicole whispered. “And there’s something creepy about that woman. This is why I shop online.”
Claire stifled a laugh. “Act like we belong here. Money is no object to us.”
Nicole dramatically flipped her dark brown hair over her shoulder like she was a haughty celebrity. Picking up a tiny two-piece swimsuit, she asked Claire, “Should I get this for our trip to the South of France?” She batted her eyelashes.
Claire stepped over to the saleswoman. “Is Rose Smith in today?”
The saleswoman’s eyebrows raised a little. “Is there something I can answer for you?”
“I found out today that Ms. Smith is vacating her penthouse apartment on Beacon Hill. I’d like to speak with her about it.”
“I don’t think she’s expected in today.” The blond woman answered evenly.
“Is she at one of the other stores?” Claire asked.
The woman glanced around to see where the other employee was. “I’m not sure of Ms. Smith’s schedule.”
“Is there some way to find out?” Claire smiled.
The questions were outside of the script that the salesperson was accustomed to and she flustered a little. “Well … I’m not sure. Jackie, do you know when Ms. Smith will be in?”
Jackie was helping a wealthy-looking woman choose a dress. “I think on Monday.”
“Do you know if she’s at one of the other stores today?”
“I’m not sure. You can call them and ask,” Jackie said.
“Would you like me to call?” the woman asked Claire.
“Would you please? It would be very helpful.”
The saleswoman nodded and clicked away on her high heels to the desk where she lifted the phone and placed two calls. She spoke for a longer time on the last call and every now and then, she would flick her eyes to Claire as she was conversing. After a minute, she rested the phone in its cradle and came around from behind the desk.
“I’m very sorry, but Ms. Smith isn’t at any of the shops today. If you’d like to leave your name and a number,
I’d be happy to give that to her when she comes in next week.”
“Thank you, but I’ll drop in again early in the week,” Claire said with a pleasant smile and returned to browsing the store. When Nicole walked over, Claire whispered, “Ask the woman to help you with something for a few minutes.”
Nicole gave her friend a look and then went to the salesperson to ask about a few dresses. While they were busy, Claire sidled over to the section of the store near the desk. She pretended to drop something, stepped to the corner of the desk, glanced around the top of it, and stepped back before anyone noticed her.
Checking her watch, she said to Nicole, “It’s getting late. We need to be going.”
A moment of confusion passed over Nicole’s face, but she caught on in an instant, and told the salesperson, “I’ll have to come back another day. Thank you for your help.”
The two left the boutique and once outside on the sidewalk, Nicole asked what was going on.
Claire’s eyes twinkled. “I watched to see how many stores the salesperson called. She spent more time on the phone during the last call she made and kept looking over at me. It made me think she was talking to Rose Smith. I took a quick peek at the desk for a list of their stores and the paper was taped to the wall right above the phone. I counted down the list to the second store. The street addresses were right next to the phone numbers on the list.”
“Very clever.” Nicole was impressed with the sleuthing.
“I suspect that Rose is at another one of her shops,” Claire said, “and that she doesn’t want to talk to us. Let’s go see.”
After arriving at the Rose in Bloom boutique in a heavily-traveled tourist section of Boston, Claire and Nicole went through the same questions and answers that they had in the first shop … all with the same results. They slunk out of the store disheartened, crossed the street, and walked to a bench in a small park across from the building they’d just visited to discuss what to do next.
Claire tapped at her phone doing an internet search. “Here’s a picture of Rose Smith.”
Nicole took the phone. “She’s nice looking. Sort of resembles me with the long dark hair, similar build, close in age.” She passed the phone back. “If she and I are so much alike, how come I don’t have her money?”
