by Anna Wells
Trixie leaned forward, her interest in the story apparent. “That must’ve been some family dinner. What did your parents say?”
Michaela shook her head in disgust. “This is the best part. My parents weren’t shocked, they had recognized him too and just assumed I knew exactly who he was.” She laughed. “Apparently, I’m the only idiot.”
Trixie started laughing and couldn’t stop, tears streamed down her face as she tried to get herself under control.
Michaela tapped her fingers on her desk impatiently while she waited for Trixie to calm down. “Are you finished, yet?” Michaela asked in a dry tone.
Trixie reached over grabbing a tissue from the box sitting on Michaela’s desk and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, but when I picture the whole scene and it just cracks me up. Please tell me you didn’t leave anything out!”
“No, I’d say that pretty much covers it. Oh no, did I forget to mention that Donovan can’t stand Jordan because he lied to me?”
“Well, I sort of picked up on that yesterday. He did sound a little hostile.”
“A little?”
“Well maybe a lot.” Trixie shrugged in an unconcerned manner. “He’ll get over it.”
“Let’s hope so. It’s never good to have an over protective brother who carries a gun.” Michaela pointed out.
“Yeah,” Trixie nodded in commiseration, “awkward family get-togethers.”
“At least my parents seem to love him regardless of his billion dollar deception.”
“Honestly, the whole thing is a great story.” She nodded sagely before saying, “Just think you can tell your grandkids this story.”
“Oh, like I want my grandkids to know how stupid I am?”
“Don’t worry about it. It could have happened to anyone,” Trixie said in a conciliatory voice.
“Ya think?” Michaela asked hopefully.
“Nah, not really, but I think it’s all so fantastic. I mean at the end of the day you’ve gone from not dating anyone on Friday to being madly in love with your billionaire boyfriend on Tuesday.”
Michaela grinned. “When you put it that way…”
“Hah,” Trixie exclaimed in glee. “I got you to admit you’re madly in love!”
“You’re so sneaky, I can’t believe you caught me.”
“Interviewing Techniques, 101.” Trixie grinned at her own response before saying, “Enough about you and your crazy relationship. Have you heard from the fire department about your house?”
“No, I’m still waiting.”
“Well, let me know if you hear something. I should be going, I still have some work I need to finish before the end of the day,” Trixie said as she rose from her chair and left the office.
“See ya later.”
Michaela returned her focus to her work. She was just finishing up her client’s annual return when her cell phone chimed. She didn’t immediately recognize the number, but she picked up anyway. “Hello.”
“Michaela Prentice”?
“Yes, this is Michaela Prentice.”
“This is John O’Leary, the arson investigator.”
“Yes, of course. Do you know what started the fire?” she asked anxiously.
“It was definitely arson. We found evidence that several Molotov cocktails were thrown through the back windows. We’ve contacted your landlord and he’s aware of the situation, but I wanted to let you know as well. I’ll be working with the police to try to determine what type of arsonist we’re dealing with.”
“I’m sorry I don’t understand,” Michaela said confused.
“Well ma’am, it’s like this. There are two types of arsonists. There are arsonists who light things on fire for fun and there are arsonists who are professionals that are hired to burn down buildings,” O’Leary explained.
A shiver of fear ran down her spine at his words. “And you’re saying you don’t know if this was a random act or if I was targeted specifically?”
“Well, it could be you or your landlord. After all it’s his property.”
“What if I told you that on that same day I was almost run down by a car at a crosswalk?”
“I’d say you need to set up and appointment with me and the police detective in charge of the investigation. That’s definitely a coincidence I’m not comfortable with. Did anyone witness the car almost hitting you?” he asked.
“I was with a friend of mine when it happened.”
“That’s good. Okay, so here’s what I want you to do. I want you and your friend to come to downtown A-1 district police station, the one on 40 New Sudbury St. I’ll call ahead and let Detective Beck know that you’re coming.”
“Okay, I’ll try to get a hold of her. It shouldn’t be too difficult since we work in the same office.”
“Good to hear. Hopefully, I’ll see you in about an hour.”
“Thanks, Mr. O’Leary. I’ll see you soon.” Michaela ended the call wondering what could possibly be going on. Why would someone want to burn down her house? Was it really possible that the car that had nearly run her down hadn’t been an accident?
Chapter Sixteen
After she ended her call with the arson investigator, Michaela contacted Trixie to let her know that they needed to go to the police station. She quickly explained that O’Leary wanted both of them to talk to the police about the car that had almost run them down at the crosswalk. They agreed to meet at the front door of the police station since they were taking separate cars.
Before leaving the office she tried to call Jordan, but got his voice mail so she left him a message explaining why she was going to the police station and that she would meet him back at his house when she was done. She had no idea how long the interview with the police was going to take and she didn’t want him to worry when she was late getting home. Okay so that was weird, she thought, she was already thinking of his place as her home. She’d have to revisit that thought later.
Navigating Boston traffic was always tricky, but Michaela managed to make it to the police station fairly quickly. She was grateful she found street parking right in front of the building, pulling quickly into the spot. As she stepped onto the sidewalk she saw Trixie coming towards her at a brisk pace. The air was crisp and cold and she pulled her coat closed to ward off the chill.
“Thanks for coming. I know this isn’t a fun way to spend your time,” Michaela told her.
“That’s the least of my worries. I’m getting freaked out about the idea that the near miss with the car and the fire could be related somehow.”
“Me too,” Michaela admitted. “You know, Donovan mentioned the idea to me yesterday morning and I thought he was just being his usual paranoid self,” she said as they reached the bright yellow front doors of the station.
Trixie sent her a knowing look. “Well, you’re brother is a little paranoid, but he might be onto something after all, he is a professional.” Michaela shivered. “Oh God, let’s hope not. I’m praying that everyone is just over reacting.”
They entered the building together and walked to the front desk clerk who appeared to be a middle aged woman in her forties. Her nametag said “Robyn Greenfield.”
“Can I help you?” the clerk asked in a bored nasal tone.
Clearly, her career choice wasn’t working for her, Michaela thought, before saying, “Yes, we’re here to see Detective Beck. I believe he’s expecting us.”
The clerk looked at her skeptically. “And you are?”
“Michaela Prentice and Trixie Bloor?” Michaela told her.
The clerk nodded curtly. “One moment ma’am and I’ll see if I can reach him,” she said as she put the phone to her ear. “Mike, I’ve got a Michaela Prentice and a Trixie Bloor to see you.” She paused briefly glancing at Trixie once again. “No, I really did say Trixie and no she doesn’t look like a stripper.” The clerk briefly cleared her throat. “Sorry Mike, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
Michaela gave Trixie a sideways glance at that last comment. Trixie
just shrugged as if to say, what can you do?
The clerk hung up the phone. “Ladies if you just want to go down the hall and take the stairs to the second floor, Detective Beck will be waiting for you.”
They followed the clerk’s directions to the second floor. Michaela glanced at Trixie. “Didn’t the stripper comment bother you?”
Trixie shook her head. “Believe me it happens all the time. It used to annoy me but now it makes me laugh. The shock value is too much fun.”
Michaela laughed at Trixie’s response. “God, I love your outlook on life,” she said as she glanced up to see a tall man with dark hair carrying a file folder who she assumed was detective Beck. He was wearing jeans and a dress shirt with a sports jacket over top. He was handsome in a rugged way, his dark hair was thick and cut short, his face was all rough angles and he was tall with a strong muscular build. If she weren’t involved with Jordan, she would be really interested.
“Michaela Prentice?” the man asked.
“That’s me,” Michaela said, “and this is my friend Trixie Bloor.”
Nodding his head in acknowledgement he said, “You probably already guessed, I’m Mike Beck, the agent in charge of the arson investigation.” He paused before adding, “Why don’t you follow me so we can sit down and discuss your situation in more detail.”
Mike led them down a hall to a closed door. He opened the door and peered his head in. “This room looks available. After you, ladies.”
The room contained a table and some chairs and the opposite wall was covered with a large mirror. Trixie glanced back at Detective Beck and smiled. “Cool, you brought us to an interrogation room.”
He grimaced. “Sorry about that. It’s just that we don’t really have any other place where we can talk privately.”
“Really, it’s okay, I like the atmosphere in here,” Trixie assured him with a quirky smile.
“Trixie, that’s an interesting name,” he said almost tentatively.
“So detective, you must tell me, do I look like a stripper?” Trixie asked archly as she looked about the room.
The detective had the grace to look embarrassed at her question before giving her a quick perusal taking in her designer coat and expensive boots. He shook his head before saying, “No definitely not a stripper. I’m sorry about that, it was completely inappropriate but in this business you tend to be quick in your judgments. It works most of the time, but like today sometimes it backfires.” His tone was both sincere and apologetic.
“That’s okay, to be honest it’s not the first time I’ve heard that question,” she told him giving him a playful grin. “I hope you’re not disappointed.”
He threw Trixie a sexy smile. “I’m far from disappointed,” he assured her as he held out his hand indicating the institutional chairs surrounding the table. “Please, both of you have a seat.” He was obviously ready to focus on the business at hand.
Michaela grabbed a chair shrugging out of her coat as she sat down in front of the table. Trixie chose the chair adjacent to her while she too shed her coat. The detective sat across from them on the opposite side of the table placing his file folder in front of him.
Detective Beck focused attention on Michaela. “Now Ms. Prentice, I understand from O’Leary that not only was your house torched but someone also tried to run you down with a car,” he said as he pulled out a pen from his sport coat and opened the folder.
Michaela shook her head. “I’m not sure if the car almost running us down was an accident or not, but Mr. O’Leary thought you’d want to hear about it.”
“Well, he’s right. I do. Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me about it? Where were you when the incident occurred?”
“We were just crossing at the corner of St. Botolph and Newton St. when I heard a roaring noise. I looked up and blue car was heading straight for us. I grabbed Trixie’s arm and pulled us both out of the way,” Michael said trying to remember as many details as possible.
Detective Beck made some notes in the folder before looking up at Michaela again and asking, “I don’t suppose you noticed what make or model the car was?”
Michael sighed apologetically. “No I’m sorry, I was too busy trying to get out of the way.”
“It was a blue, Nissan Altima. It had a Boston license plate. First four letters were AMPH,” Trixie interjected, her tone matter of fact.
He turned and looked at Trixie with more interest, the surprise evident in his voice. “You’re sure?”
Trixie returned his stare and arched her brows. Michaela knew she really didn’t like it when someone questioned her facts. “Yes, I’m sure.” she responded in a slow patient tone before continuing, “sorry I didn’t get the rest of the plate.”
The detective wrote more notes in his folder. “No, that’s great Ms. Bloor. Now we have a chance of tracking the car.”
Michaela gave her friend a big grin. “You know, you never cease to impress me.”
Trixie gave her a nod acknowledging her friend’s praise.
“Ms. Bloor can you remember any other details about the car? Did you perhaps get a look at the driver?” the detective asked.
Trixie shook her head. “Sorry that’s all I got.”
Detective Beck nodded. “Okay, understandable,” he told Trixie. “Now let’s talk about the fire.”
“Oh, I wasn’t at the house when it burned down. Jordan was with Michaela,” Trixie explained quickly.
The detective turned his attention back to Michaela. “Is that right, Ms. Prentice?”
Michaela shifted in her seat wondering why she had to go over everything she had already discussed with the Arson investigator again. O’Leary was supposed to meet her at the police station, but he still hadn’t arrived. That was odd, she thought. “Detective Beck, Mr. O’Leary, the arson investigator said he was meeting us here.” She checked her phone. “He’s about thirty minutes late.”
“Oh don’t worry, he left me a message and said there were a couple of more things he was going to check out at the scene of the fire. So you’re on your own with me for now,” he paused checking his notes, “so let’s get back to the interview. You had just arrived back at your home?”
“Yes, Jordan and I had just returned from a dinner at my parents when we saw the flames coming outside of the upstairs window.”
“And who is Jordan?” he asked.
Uhmm, good question she thought hesitating a little before she answered, “My boyfriend?”
Detective Beck shot her a curious stare and said dryly, “You’re not sure?”
“No, no, I’m sure,” she said feeling slightly embarrassed. The guy must think she was an idiot, she thought before continuing, “See we were friends for a long time, but recently we started dating so now I guess he’s my boyfriend and we are sort of living together, well maybe...” As she babbled on the detective waited for her to finish. Okay, so maybe she had offered way too much information.
The detective cleared his throat. “I’m glad we’ve got that cleared up. So can you tell me his full name?” he asked her in a patient tone.
Michaela shook her head as if to clear it. “Yes, of course. It’s Jordan Marsh.”
The detective brows raised slightly in surprise. “The Jordan March? The CEO of ECOM Works?”
Trixie turned her head and coughed. Michaela narrowed her eyes and shot her a nasty glare before returning her attention to the detective. She pasted a grin on her face before saying, “Yes, that’s him. I guess you’ve heard of him.”
“Who hasn’t?” he said as he took more notes. “I see here in O’Leary’s report that you’re not the owner of the house that burned down?”
“Yes that’s right. I was renting,” she confirmed.
“Have you had any arguments or disagreements with anyone? Anyone who might have a grudge against you?” he asked.
She shook her head. “There’s been nothing.”
“Michaela how about when you found your fiancé in bed with Jordan’s gi
rlfriend?” Trixie reminded her.
Michaela made a face not liking the images that brought back. “Yeah, but that was over a year ago.”
Detective Beck leaned back in his chair. His brows drew together thoughtfully as he said, “Let me get this straight, you caught your fiancé in bed with a woman who was at the time Jordan Marsh’s girlfriend and now you’re his girlfriend?”
She nodded. “That pretty much sums it up.”
“I’m going to need the names and addresses of the old girlfriend and your ex-fiancé and I think I should speak to Mr. Marsh.”
Michaela was a little surprised at the request. “You suspect one of them?”
The detective shrugged. “I have to look into any possibility. So far that’s the only one I’ve got.”
“It was a long time ago and they were the ones cheating. Why would one of them be mad at me?” Michaela asked, her tone perplexed.
The detective gave her a half smile. “Well you’re the one that ended up with the rich boyfriend,” he explained.
Michaela shook her head at the idea. “Like I said before, it happened a year ago and Jordan and I just started dating. I really don’t think there could be a connection.”
“Oh my God,” Trixie interrupted leaning forward, “maybe he’s onto something. We ran into Joyce about an hour after we were almost run down. You haven’t seen her in a year and then an hour after a car almost runs you down you run into her at the mall. And the whole thing happened within a day of you and Jordan, well you know, for the first time. It’s too much of a coincidence!”
The detective turned to Trixie, tapping his pen on the edge of the desk asking dryly, “Did you want to conduct this interview or can I continue?”
Trixie shifted in her chair slightly, not the least bit phased by the detective’s comment. Giving the detective a dismissive wave she said, “No you go ahead, but if you need any help you just let me know.”
He gave her a quick wink, obviously working hard to suppress a smile. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said as he turned back to Michaela. “Can I get the names of these two people?”
“Okay sure, Joyce Landow and Noah Jenkins,” Michaela answered.
