by J A Whiting
Robby walked up to the table and handed Claire her phone. “Text Ian and ask him if I can post about the case on those websites.”
Claire took her phone and sent the message.
In less than a minute, a reply pinged Claire’s phone. After reading the text, she said, “Ian says yes, go ahead and post on those sites.”
“I knew it,” Robby said triumphantly and turned for the backroom. “I have my laptop in my backpack. I’ll post right away explaining that the evidence and case notes are lost and if anyone knows anything about the case to please contact me.”
“It can’t hurt,” Nicole said as she watched the young man walk away.
“Do you know anything about Kelly Cox’s mother?” Tessa asked.
Claire said, “Her name was Janice Carter. She was thirty when she died. She never married Kelly’s father. He died while serving overseas in the military. Kelly never met him. Janice worked as a dental hygienist and she went to school at night with the hopes of eventually becoming a nurse practitioner.”
“Was she dating anyone?” Tessa questioned.
“Janice dated off and on,” Nicole said, “but there wasn’t anyone she was seeing on a regular basis. Kelly was told these things when she was older.”
“Did she ever have a fight with anyone she was dating?” Tessa questioned. “Did anyone bother Janice. She could have stopped seeing someone who didn’t care to be dropped.”
“Kelly didn’t know anything about that sort of thing,” Nicole said. “That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Janice might not have shared that information with her parents.”
“How about the neighbors?” Tessa asked. “Did suspicion fall on any of the neighbors?”
Claire shook her head. “Kelly only knew that the neighbor across the street told police he might have seen a man ring the doorbell at Janice’s house the night of the murder, but it was dark and the neighbor wasn’t able to describe the man. Other than that, we don’t know.”
Some customers opened the door and stepped in and Nicole and Claire stood up to wait on them as Tessa took the last sip of her coffee and headed back to work. “Don’t give up,” she encouraged the two young women. “It looks hopeless right now, but you’ve only taken the first steps. There’s a long way to go. Fortune will smile on you and your efforts.”
Later in the afternoon, Nicole, Claire, and Robby were baking in the backroom when Robby asked Claire, “How come you never told me your late husband was so much older than you?”
Claire spun around and stared. “How do you know that?”
“I looked you up on the internet.”
Claire’s face paled and her stomach tightened. There were things about her background that she didn’t want revealed and although she’d done internet searches on her name, she’d never found any evidence of her net worth. “Why did you look me up?”
“Because you’re secretive.” Robby folded some eggs into a mixture.
“No, I’m not.”
“You don’t admit you have paranormal powers.” Robby held his hand up. “Don’t deny it, Clairvoyant Claire. You knew I had that audition when I never mentioned a word about it.” Months ago, Claire had sensed that Robby had an important audition and without thinking, wished him well on his performance. He brought the matter up fairly frequently, but Claire always blew it off.
“Will you admit you have some sort of paranormal powers?” Robby asked and then grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ll still be friends with you.”
Claire picked up the whisk and began to whip the mixture in her bowl. “It’s rude to spy on people.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Robby said without looking up. “So your late husband was a lot older than you, huh? Like what? Forty years older? Don’t get angry with me. It’s unusual, that’s all. I wondered why you married someone so much older.”
Claire stopped whisking the batter and turned to face Robby. “Because … I loved him.”
Robby didn’t say anything right away, but he gave Claire a sweet smile. “The best reason of all.”
“Get back to work, you two,” Nicole said teasingly. “And no more spying on Claire. If you want to know something, just ask her. And don’t spy on me either.”
“I’m making no promises.” Robby spooned the batter into muffin tins. “Anyway, it’s not spying, it’s gathering information. It’s the twenty-first century. Everyone does it.”
Nicole was about to say something else when Robby’s laptop dinged from across the room. He dashed over to look at his email and after a few moments, he said, “That didn’t take long.”
“What is it?” Wiping her hands on a dish towel, Claire walked to where Robby was standing to look over his shoulder.
“It’s a reply to my request for help.” Robby beamed.
“What does it say?” Nicole hurried over.
“It’s from a retired police officer. He says the case was looked at several times over the years and despite not finding anything new to pursue, he and another officer took notes and compiled a report with details on the case.”
“Was the report lost in the fire, too?” Claire asked.
“It was.”
Claire’s heart dropped.
Robby said, “But, this officer has a copy of the report in his home office.”
“Where does he live?” Nicole’s voice was full of excitement.
“In Chatham Village,” Robby said. “The same town where Janice was murdered.”
With a wide smile, Claire raised a hand and high-fived Robby and Nicole. “Fortune’s favor has been sent our way.”
5
Claire and Nicole pulled into the driveway of a grey Colonial home and parked near the garage. A tan dog was sleeping on the front lawn and he lifted his head momentarily, glanced at the car, and then rested his head back on his legs.
Nicole noticed the dog and said, “I guess we don’t look very threatening. Either that or the dog has given up his position as house security officer.”
Claire chuckled and rang the front bell. The door opened in just a few moments and a short, stout, gray-haired man greeted them with a warm smile and handshakes. “Jack Phillips. Come on in.”
He led them to a screened porch off the kitchen where they took seats on comfortable chairs. “I copied the report for you. I understand Detective Gagnon is having a look into the case. I called him to be sure it was okay to let you see the report. He was surprised to hear I had it. I dropped off a copy to him at the station.”
“Detective Gagnon must have been very happy to hear about the report,” Claire said. “There wasn’t much to go on since the evidence and case notes were destroyed.”
Jack smiled broadly. “He sure was. The report was tucked away in my file cabinets down in the basement. I never expected the case to be opened again.”
“We don’t know if it will be re-opened,” Nicole said. “It’s only in the information gathering stage right now. Years have gone by since you looked into the murder. We’re only doing this because the victim’s daughter has requested the case be re-opened.”
Jack rubbed at his chin. “The daughter must be what? Mid-thirties?”
“Kelly Cox is thirty-five,” Claire said. “She works as a teacher here in town.”
“She was in college when we looked through the case notes. That was about eighteen years ago. I always wondered what would become of that little girl. How does a child recover from such a thing? Not only losing her mother to violence, but finding her dead body.” Jack shook his head slowly. “I’m glad to hear she has a good job. Did she marry?”
“Kelly’s been married for about ten years,” Claire told the retired officer. “She seems happy. Except for wanting her mother’s killer to be found.”
Jack’s face turned serious. “Every law enforcement officer who worked on or looked into the case has done their best. When I went over the case notes years ago, I searched and searched for a shred of evidence to follow. I came up empty. I’m hoping new eyes on the info
rmation will find something. I think you two not being in law enforcement might be of benefit. Coming at the case with a different way of looking at things might prove to spark new ideas.”
Claire waited for the retired officer to ask about their backgrounds and why the police brought them onboard, but when Jack didn’t question them about it, she wondered how Detective Gagnon explained their participation in the investigation.
“Would you mind if we asked you a little about the case?” Nicole asked.
“Not at all. I read through the report last night to refresh my memory. I’d like to help if I can.”
Nicole thanked the man. “Kelly Cox has given us her account of the morning she found her mother on the living room floor and what happened subsequently. We know a little about Janice Carter, she had Kelly at age twenty-five, she was unmarried, she worked as a dental hygienist and was going to nursing school at night. Janice had dated now and then, but was not in a relationship. Does that all match up with what you know?”
“It does, yes. You heard there’s a good chance Janice knew her killer? There was no sign of forced entry so she must have opened the door to whoever knocked.”
“We heard that,” Claire said. “There could be the possibility that someone knocked and claimed to be a police officer or a utility worker who might have lied about a gas leak or an electrical problem in order to gain entry.”
“That’s within the realm of possibility,” Jack said.
“We also heard there was a neighbor who told police he might have seen a man knock at Janice’s door that night? Do you know anything about that?” Claire questioned.
“Yeah. He was no help at all. Too vague, didn’t see the man’s face, couldn’t describe what the man was wearing or how he arrived at Janice’s home. No one in law enforcement was sure the neighbor saw anything. The guy might have wanted to seem important so he made up a story. Either way, he couldn’t give any details so it didn’t lead anywhere.”
“The next-door neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Adams, didn’t hear or see anything either?” Nicole asked.
“They didn’t hear a thing. They only knew that something was wrong when the little girl ran out of the house and told Mr. Adams her mother was dead.”
“Did Janice have any close friends?” Claire questioned.
Jack said, “She did. Two women. One of them was going to nursing school with Janice. The other knew Janice since middle school. Neither could offer any information that could be called a lead. Time is funny, though. The passing of the years can bring an old memory to the forefront. Something triggers it, a question, a smell, a sound. When the person is in the midst of the turmoil, things can get glossed over or ignored, and then the memory wiggles its way out of the mind’s depths and shows itself. And that becomes the thing that leads to finding the killer.”
“I hope that happens this time,” Claire nodded hopefully.
“There was another incident on the night Janice Carter was killed,” Jack told them.
Adrenaline coursed through Claire’s veins. “What was that?”
“There were some kids playing down at the field. It’s a park and there’s a baseball diamond, a couple of basketball courts, a grassy area. The kids lived a block from the field. A guy sat on a bench watching the kids play. A girl was riding her bike. Her sister and brother were shooting baskets. It got late and the kids needed to go home. The older sister and brother headed out thinking their sister had ridden her bike home. Only she hadn’t. She was riding on the paved paths down by the ball field. When she got back to the basketball court and didn’t see her siblings, she started to head home.”
When Jack paused for a sip from his water glass, Claire leaned forward. “Did something happen to the little girl?”
Jack set his glass on the side table. “A guy was watching the kids. He was sitting on a bench drinking a soda or something. The girl rode her bike past a hedge at the edge of the field and somebody pushed her off the bike. She got up and ran, screaming. Her sister and brother weren’t far away. They heard the screams and ran back. The little girl ran to them and told them a man was running after her. The sister and brother didn’t see the guy around. The kid was pretty shaken up. She was sure the man was chasing her.”
“Did anyone call the police?”
“The kids’ mother called to report the incident. Officers arrived and took statements, then looked around for the man, but they weren’t able to locate him.”
“That was the end of it?” Claire felt a rush of nervousness pulse over her skin.
“No. Later in the week, the kids were asked to go to the police station to take a look at a lineup. The three siblings remembered the man who was sitting on the bench. Individually, the kids were asked to pick out the man they saw at the field from the men in the lineup. Each kid picked the same man.”
“Was he charged with anything?” Nicole asked with wide eyes.
“He was released. Not enough evidence.”
“Was the feeling back then that the man from the field was the same man who attacked Janice Carter?” Claire looked Jack in the eyes.
“The investigators wondered if that was the case,” Jack said. “But there wasn’t enough to hold the man or charge him with anything so off he went.”
“Does he still live around here?” Nicole asked.
“He moved away. I forgot where. Maybe Connecticut? It’s in the report.”
“From what you know about the case, should we head in a certain direction?” Claire asked. “Is there somewhere you think would be helpful for us to start?”
Jack blew out a long breath. “You could have Gagnon request the autopsy report. Perhaps, the two of you and Detective Gagnon could arrange to visit Janice’s former house, just to get a feel for the crime scene.”
“Do you think it would be helpful for us to track down the three siblings?” Claire asked. “Talk to them about what happened the night the man tried to abduct the younger sister?”
Jack looked from Claire to Nicole. “Like I said, when time passes, memories can surface that had been suppressed previously. It sure wouldn’t hurt to talk to them. Just because other officers have interviewed people and looked at evidence, it doesn’t mean you won’t find something new when you talk to those same people and consider the evidence. Leave no stone unturned. That will be key.”
The young women thanked Jack for his time and for the reports he’d prepared years ago on the case. Without the report, there wouldn’t be much that could be done.
On the way through the house back to the front door, Jack stopped and said, “I just thought of something. After Mr. Adams called the police to report the murder, the first officer on the scene that morning was a young guy. When he arrived, he went inside the house, but he was only a couple of feet inside the door when he stopped. He saw the body, turned, and hurried outside to his cruiser to call for more officers and an ambulance.”
A shiver ran down Claire’s back as she listened to Jack’s remarks.
“I forgot the guy’s name, but it’s in the report,” Jack said. “Track him down. Have him tell you what he saw that day. It will mean more hearing it from someone who was there rather than just reading the report. Ask him questions, jog his memory. Do that with everyone you can find who was involved in the case. That’s the way you’ll find new information. That’s the way you’ll solve it.”
6
When Claire entered the chocolate shop early the next morning, Nicole rushed out from the backroom with a look of panic on her face.
“I got an email from an event planner. She saw the article in the news when we won the prize at the food festival. She’s asking if we’d like to be considered for a big wedding that will be held at an historic mansion about thirty minutes from here.”
“That’s great.” Claire removed her jacket and went to the workroom to hang it up with Nicole following after her. “Why do you look so panicked?”
Nicole said, “We have to prepare the desserts and bring them to the
bride’s house for a taste test. Others are being invited to take part. It would be a huge contract, a ton of money, lots of promo for the shop.”
“That’s all good.” Claire turned to her friend. “Don’t you want to do it?”
“Yes.” Nicole looked like she wanted to cry. “But, I got a notice from the building manager. I can’t renew my lease here.”
“Why not?” Claire’s forehead was lined with concern and confusion.
“Someone else approached the manager and offered a lot more money for the space. I have to get out in a month.”
“What?” Anger tinged Claire’s question. “Doesn’t your lease say you have the right of first refusal? Are you sure they can kick you out? Where’s the lease? Show it to me.” Claire was a corporate lawyer by training and experience, and wanted to read the lease to see if the manager was in his legal right to force Nicole out of the space.
“I have a copy of it in the office safe.” In a few minutes, Nicole came out of the shop’s office carrying an envelope.
Claire read over the lease while her friend stepped nervously from foot to foot. When Claire looked up, her face was serious.
“It appears there isn’t a clause allowing you the right to first refusal.” She folded the papers and stuffed them back in the envelope. “They can kick you out when the lease period is over.”
Nicole practically wailed. “What am I going to do? Business is booming. I can barely keep up with it. I don’t have time to look for someplace to move. I don’t have the money either. I want to accept the offer to prepare bakery items for that wedding, but how can I do it? We’re bursting at the seams here.”
Claire put her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I think you just pointed out a big problem.”
Nicole’s teary blue eyes went wide. “What do you mean?”
“Ever since the shop won the grand prize at the food festival, business has exploded. The space here is too small. You need to expand. You need more café space and you need a lot more room for food preparation. If you expand, you can hire more workers, you can add a full-time catering side to the business. You’re successful, Nic. It’s time to make a business plan spelling out expansion.”
