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Good Fortunes (A Claire Rollins Mystery Book 1)

Page 15

by J A Whiting


  “Impoverished, I suppose.”

  Claire ignored him. “Look at these two lines. See how they criss-cross? Do you know what that means?”

  Tony grumped. “That I have a nut pretending to read my palm?”

  Claire couldn’t stifle her chuckle. “Never mock the fortune teller, kind sir.” Forcing a serious tone, she continued, “The criss-crossing lines mean that you are at a crossroads. Things will change.”

  “I didn’t need a palm reading to figure that out.”

  “But things will change for the better.” Claire’s eyes twinkled. “You will prosper. You will know stability. You will get what you wish for.”

  “Maybe in my next life.” Tony stood up.

  Claire stretched out her hand. “That will be twenty-five dollars for the reading, thank you very much.”

  Tony walked to the deli counter and said over his shoulder, “Send me the bill.”

  Claire pretended to frown. “Oh, I will. With interest.”

  Claire’s phone buzzed with an incoming text and when she picked it up, the levity drained from her face. She read the caller’s name several times to be sure she wasn’t imagining the words.

  It was from Alicia Fitchburg’s husband, Paul.

  Can you come to the house? I need to talk to you.

  27

  Claire left the Corgis with Tony, and against his advice, she headed off for Paul Fitchburg’s home to find out what it was he needed to talk to her about. When he opened the front door, Paul looked like he’d aged ten years. His facial muscles sagged and his eyes were bloodshot. His appearance made Claire’s heart race with anxiety.

  She followed him into the house and when they were settled on the living room sofa, Paul leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. “Now Merritt is dead.” His voice shook.

  “I didn’t say anything to you about it because I wasn’t sure if you’d heard the news. I’m sorry,” Claire told him.

  “She was so young. A life wasted.” Paul didn’t look up.

  “How did you find out?”

  “I have a buddy who works at the police station. He knew we were close with Merritt when she was young. He let me know.” Paul cleared his throat. “When you were here last, I left some things out of our conversation.”

  Claire leaned forward.

  “I should have told you.” Paul looked like he was about to cry. “Alicia didn’t tell me everything. In light of what’s happened, I think she was trying to protect me.”

  Sitting on the edge of her seat, Claire watched Paul with wide eyes waiting for him to tell her the details.

  “I told you the truth that I didn’t see Merritt much, but Alicia was seeing her quite a bit. Alicia was worried about something that Merritt confided to her. My wife was afraid that Merritt was mixed up in something she shouldn’t have been. I didn’t link Alicia’s death to what Merritt was involved with, maybe because I’ve been in a fog since I lost my wife. I feel like I’m not thinking straight.”

  “Did Alicia tell you anything about what Merritt was doing?”

  Paul shook his head. “She only said that it seemed dangerous and she was going to try and talk Merritt out of it.”

  “From the things Alicia did say to you, are you able to figure anything out? What was going on?”

  “It seemed to have something to do with that law firm Merritt was working for. Maybe she was involved in some case that might have been dangerous? Whatever it was, I think it got Alicia killed.” Paul rubbed at his eyes.

  “Have you talked to the police about your concerns?”

  “I haven’t.” Paul took a quick look across the room to a desk on the far wall.

  “It might help with the investigation,” Claire said.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know if it would help.”

  Claire asked gently, “Why are you telling me about this?”

  Paul bit his lower lip. “Because Merritt asked me to.”

  Claire almost slipped off the sofa to the floor. “Merritt? When? How?”

  “In a letter.” Paul walked to the desk and returned with a small package wrapped in brown paper with a letter folded and slipped under the string that was tied around it. “This arrived this morning.” Paul removed the letter and handed it to Claire.

  Dear Paul,

  I’m sending you this package for safekeeping. If anything happens to me, please contact Claire Rollins and give the package to her. She will figure out what to do with it. I’m so very sorry about Alicia. You have always been good to me.

  Love,

  Merritt

  Claire’s cell phone number was printed at the bottom of the page.

  When she handed the letter back to Paul, Claire’s mouth was hanging open. Paul lifted the package from his lap and held it out to her. “You’re supposed to take this.”

  Accepting it with trembling hands, Claire asked, “Did you look at it? Do you know what it is?”

  Paul shook his head. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

  Claire had a pretty good idea what was inside. The package was about the size of a small book, about the size of the notebook Claire had seen Melody Booker hand to Merritt at the airport.

  Lifting her eyes to Paul, she asked, “Do you know where Melody is?”

  Paul’s eyebrows shot up. “No. Absolutely not. I would tell you, if I knew.” The man’s chin dipped. “I suppose Melody is mixed up in the terrible trouble of this, too.”

  “I think she is.” Claire’s voice was soft. “I’d like to open the package and see what’s inside. Are you okay with that?”

  Paul swallowed and nodded, but he slid a couple of inches away from Claire.

  When the brown paper was removed, the notebook that Melody had handed to Merritt was revealed inside. Claire opened the cover and flipped through some of the pages. Handwritten notes were written on every page. Turning to the beginning, Claire began to read. It was an extensive and detailed account of the harassment that Melody was subjected to working at Fast Freight. Dates, names, and actions had been carefully recorded. After reading for several minutes, Claire flipped to a section of the notebook that had a tab attached to one of the pages and scanned some of the entries. She read part of it aloud.

  Merritt Handley got in touch with me today. We talked about what was going on at Fast Freight. She’s heard things about an attorney who is a partner in a firm downtown. She knows him from court. She’s heard some rumors and thinks he might be involved with a criminal ring working out of the airport. He’s asked her to join his firm. She is going to accept to try and find out what he’s up to.

  Paul cleared his throat. “Merritt was a good person. She always wanted to do the right thing.”

  Claire read another entry.

  Things seem to be escalating. We have to meet in private. Merritt knows that Alex Freeman is running something illegal at the airport. She thinks he’s making millions of dollars, but doesn’t have firm evidence. Yet. We think the guys who have been harassing me are working with Freeman.

  The next section that Claire read caused her heart to jump into her throat. She warned Paul about what was written and he nodded for Claire to go ahead and read it out loud.

  Merritt is very upset. She’s been confiding in Alicia Fitchburg about everything. Alicia kept telling Merritt to stop investigating, that it was too dangerous, but Merritt won’t stop. She’s determined to bring Alex Freeman to justice. Alicia went to the police and told them our suspicions about Freeman. Yesterday Alicia was found murdered. Someone at the police station has to be working with Freeman. The dirty cop must have told Freeman about Alicia’s visit to the police station. We don’t know if Alicia told our names to the police, but Merritt and I know that now we are in danger.

  Paul wept with his hands covering his face. “Alicia was only trying to help. She thought the police would go after Freeman and that Merritt and Melody would be safe.” Claire closed the notebook and moved closer to the man. She put her arm around his shoulders
, her own tears running down her cheeks.

  Claire stayed with Paul Fitchburg for another hour before leaving to pick up the dogs and head home. She and Paul decided that, for the time being, it would be safer for him to keep the notebook at his home and not to share it with law enforcement until Claire had spoken with Judge Augustus Gunther and found out who in the department could be trusted.

  Tony had sent Claire a text to say he’d gone out to help a friend with a plumbing problem and to use the key code on his door to pick up the dogs. Walking up the hill to her townhouse with the Corgis on their leashes, Claire thought that the dogs were acting oddly, sniffing everywhere and letting out occasional growls and she suspected that they had picked up on her own uneasy emotional state. “It’s okay, everything’s okay,” she told the dogs even though she knew they wouldn’t believe a word of what she was saying.

  Climbing the steps to the townhouse, Claire sighed audibly, her mind worn out and her body fatigued and sluggish. Dropping her keys on the entryway side table, she called for Nicole even though the apartment was dark. “Are you home?”

  No one answered.

  Claire dragged herself to the living room and not bothering to turn on the lights, she slid the door open so the dogs could go out into the garden. Bear had his nose to the floor sniffing all around the apartment, the hair standing up on his back. He stood at the open living room door sniffing the air and then darted into the yard with a growl. Lady moved to the door watching her dog friend. She stood like a statue for several moments, turned her head to the dining room, and then followed after Bear into the garden.

  Watching the dogs, a shiver ran slowly down Claire’s back. “We’re all on edge,” she muttered.

  A note from Nicole was on the refrigerator. The fire alarm company called her to report that the alarm had gone off at the chocolate shop and she’d gone down there to see what was going on.

  Claire kicked off her shoes and headed for her bedroom wanting to shower and change into pajamas. In the master bath, she was about to turn the shower knob to start the water when a noise in the living room caused her hand to freeze in mid-air. It sounded like the door to the garden was sliding shut.

  Feeling like her body was flooding with ice water, Claire hurried to the wall switch and flicked off the lights. Her heart pounding, she tip-toed into the bedroom and turned the lights off in that room. The dogs growled and barked frantically on the other side of the living room door and Claire cursed herself for leaving her cell phone in the kitchen. She couldn’t remain in the bedroom, she had to do something.

  Peering carefully into the dark hallway, Claire moved her feet slowly and carefully trying not to make the wood floor squeak and she shuffled into the hall where she pressed her back against the wall and sucked in a deep breath. Think, think.

  Claire considered trying to get to the front door, but if someone came at her, she had no weapon. If she could make it to the kitchen, she could get a knife and rush to the doors leading to the garden so that she and the dogs could fight the intruder together. She knew that neither choice was a good one.

  Deciding to try for the kitchen, Claire’s sense of hearing was on high alert noticing every little sound even with the din of the dogs barking outside. She hadn’t turned a light on in the kitchen, but her eyes had adjusted to the darkness as she slid her feet quietly over the floor to the counter drawer that held the sharpest knives.

  As Claire reached to open the drawer, she saw movement reflected in the glass door of the wall-mounted microwave.

  It was a man … standing several yards behind her.

  28

  Claire wheeled around to see Alex Freeman on the other side of the kitchen island staring at her, the whites of his eyes bright in the darkness. “You.” Even though her head was spinning with fear, Claire practically spit the words out of her mouth. “What are you doing in my house?”

  The dogs were howling in the yard and Claire could hear their frantic clawing at the glass door. She took a step forward towards the island. “How did you get in here?” She did not want to show her fear to Freeman so she continued to babble. “Where were you hiding?”

  “I invited myself in. I hope you don’t mind. You have a nice basement.”

  Claire couldn’t see a weapon in Freeman’s hands, but in the dark she couldn’t be sure. “I do mind. Why don’t you see yourself out?”

  Freeman chuckled.

  Claire took a step to the wall intending to flick on the lights.

  “Don’t move.” The hate in Freeman’s voice chilled Claire.

  “I’m going to turn on the lights.”

  “Stand still.”

  While Claire’s eyes darted around looking to see if Freeman was alone in the house, she realized the dogs had gone quiet and her heart thudded, fearing one of Freeman’s helpers had hurt them. “Did you bring one of your flunkies with you?”

  “No. I didn’t. The last losers I sent here failed the job and are now tucked away in police custody. Fools. I really hope they’re able to keep their mouths shut because that’s the only way they’ll ever draw another breath.”

  Moonlight filtered in through the windows and lit up Freeman’s face. Beads of sweat glistened over his forehead and Claire thought he looked crazed. Feeling lightheaded and afraid that she might pass out, Claire stuck her fingernails into her palms to try to focus her mind. “Where’s Melody?”

  Freeman’s right eyebrow raised. “I’m sure you must know.”

  “Wrong.” Claire tried to sound bold and confidant, not like the pathetic wimp she felt to be. She continued to babble. “Why did you kill Merritt?”

  Freeman released a breath of air. “What a waste. Such an intelligent woman. She had such a bright future.”

  “You took her future from her.”

  “She took it from herself. The traitor betrayed me … working with Melody,” Freeman muttered and shook his head as he advanced several steps. “They shouldn’t try to stop me,” he sneered at Claire. “Where’s Melody?”

  Realizing that the only reason she was still alive was because Freeman thought she knew where Melody Booker was hiding, Claire tried to buy time to figure out what she could do. “What are you doing at the airport? How are you making your money?”

  “Melody didn’t tell you? I thought she’d figured it out.”

  Claire shook her head.

  “Can’t you figure it out?” Freeman smiled. “My guys access the airline’s computer system to find out the weight of the incoming cargo. The logs don’t list the contents of the cargo, but they do list the weight. Isn’t that stupid? It’s basically the same things being shipped all the time, but when the weight goes up, then we know that what we want is arriving.”

  “What’s on the plane that you want?”

  “When the cargo weighs more, we know that the post office is shipping something valuable to this area. They’re shipping new credit cards. The return address on the boxes is always the same. From South Dakota. You wouldn’t believe how many cards come in on one shipment. My guys go in to unload the cargo, they find the boxes with the credit cards, and they remove the individually addressed envelopes containing the cards. We sell most of them. We keep some to make purchases with and then we sell the things we buy. It’s very, very profitable.”

  “The police help you?”

  “A couple of them do.” Freeman’s grin was like a sneer. “We have to cover our bases, you know.”

  “Who in law enforcement helps you?”

  “Enough of this.” Freeman reached behind his back and when his hand came forward he held a knife.

  Claire’s throat was so tight she could barely breathe any air into her lungs. When Freeman had moved for the knife, she saw a gun was strapped to his hip. Her mind was spinning. How am I going to get out of this? What can I do?

  “Where is Melody Booker?” Freeman took several steps closer to the kitchen island.

  Claire, standing on the opposite side, held the man’s eyes. When Freeman too
k advancing steps around the island towards Claire, she moved in the opposite direction so that they were beginning to walk in a circle.

  “Answer my question,” Freeman sneered. “You will talk eventually.”

  “Why do you think I know where she is?”

  “You seem to know a lot of things, things that are none of your business.”

  Claire tried to act tough. “I made it my business after your flunkies’ bullets got too close to us.”

  “Not close enough, it seems. But don’t worry. My bullet won’t miss.”

  “It won’t matter. You’ll be arrested soon. We have Melody’s notebook. She wrote everything down in it.”

  Freeman’s eyes bore into Claire’s. “That notebook isn’t proof of anything.”

  Moving her arm slowly, Claire edged her fingers to the knob of one of the kitchen cabinet drawers and gently slid it open just enough to reach inside. “It will help though, once they have your secret laptop.”

  Claire could see the man’s chest rising and falling as his eyes bugged.

  “What are you saying?” His voice was a hoarse whisper. “What do you know?”

  Gripping the thing in her hand and removing it from the drawer, Claire said, “I know you keep that laptop in the safe in your office closet.” She let the words sink in and then leaned forward. “They’ll come with a search warrant … and all your secrets won’t be secret anymore.”

  Freeman looked wild. He dropped the knife and yanked the gun from its holster. As he brought up his arm, Claire extended hers and her finger pressed on the top of the canister releasing a shot of pepper spray right into Freeman’s face. He let out a cry of surprise and as Claire dropped to the floor, a thundering boom rocked the walls of the house. The living room’s glass doors shattered into a million pieces from the bullets of Detective Ian Fuller’s gun and two of them lodged in Alex Freeman’s shoulder, bringing him down with a thud.

  29

  Although Claire didn’t know whose feet crunched over the shattered glass, she knew it was one of the good guys. When she heard others running into the house, she pushed herself to sitting position. The kitchen lights came on and in the dining room, a man’s voice called out, Clear! just as Detective Fuller came around the island and peered down at Claire with worried eyes.

 

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