by J A Whiting
Nicole stared at Claire. “I don’t know. It will take a lot of money. No bank will give me the line of credit I’ll need to do that. I wouldn’t be able to afford the loan payments anyway. Expanding will require a ton of money. I can’t do it.”
A smile spread over Claire’s face. “Then I guess it’s fortunate that you know someone who can help.”
“Who?” Nicole asked before she realized what her friend was saying. “What? You?”
When Claire’s husband, Teddy, passed away, he left her his business and more money than she could ever spend in a lifetime. Her financial advisor and several people in her financial services firm knew her net worth and Claire had shared with Nicole that Teddy had left her a good deal of money, but she hadn’t revealed the dollar amount. No one else knew that Claire was worth a bundle.
“I can’t take money from you.” Nicole shook her head vigorously.
Claire tilted her head to the side. “Money is no good unless you share it.”
“No. That’s crazy. I can’t take it from you. That money belongs to you.”
“The money actually belonged to Teddy,” Claire clarified. “I just ended up with it.”
“Oh, I know, but….” Nicole sank onto a stool and put her elbows on the counter so she could hold her head in her hands. “What am I going to do?”
“I think it’s pretty simple.”
Nicole looked up excitedly. “Wait. What if you become my partner? You can invest in the chocolate shop if I take you on as an equal partner.”
One of Claire’s eyebrows shot up.
“We work well together. You have legal and financial experience and you can bake like no one else. Well, besides me.” Worry lifted from Nicole’s face. “We’ll be business partners. You can help me expand. We can share the whole thing.”
“But you built this business,” Claire said.
“And now I need financial help to expand. Please do it with me.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Claire said, “that we should do some cookbooks. The shop has a name now, people in the city know about it, there’s been good press since we won the food prize. It might be the right time to do cookbooks.”
“I love the idea.” Nicole clapped her hands together. “We’ll have it all set up legally. Will you do it? Will you join me in owning the business?”
“I’d love to.”
Nicole whooped and did a little dance before wrapping her best friend in a hug. “We’ll build a chocolate shop empire,” she squealed with delight. “It sure was a lucky day when you walked through my door.”
“It was a lucky day for me, too.” Claire grinned. “Now we need to contact a Realtor to find us a new place for the shop.”
Several knocks were heard at the front door of the store and Nicole groaned. “The shop’s not open yet. Why do people think the closed sign doesn’t apply to them?”
When she went to the front of the store to tell the customer to return later, Nicole called to Claire. “It’s Ian.”
Claire hurried to greet him as Nicole unlocked the door to let the detective inside.
“I’m beat. I was on a case all night.” Ian wrapped Claire in his arms. “I was driving by and decided to stop before heading home to shower.”
Nicole brought Ian a coffee and a carrot cake muffin and he sat at the counter to eat while Claire and Nicole prepared the shop for the early morning rush.
“Did you have a chance to read the crime report?” Ian asked.
“We did.” Claire filled the cases with bakery items. “There’s a lot of good information in the notes.”
Ian said, “Jack Phillips wrote a good report, but he didn’t include everything that was in the original case file since he never guessed the files would end up destroyed. At least, it’s something to go on. Without his notes, the case would be dead in the water. It was a lucky break for us that Jack kept a copy.”
Ian went on to explain that he wouldn’t be able to spend much time on the case due to too much work in his own department. “If you two will do some of the legwork on the case to help out my detective friend, Keith Gagnon, in Chatham Village, then I’ll regularly consult with all of you and give advice.” Ian went on, “I’m meeting with Keith for dinner tonight. Can you join us? You can meet each other and discuss the case.”
Claire and Nicole agreed.
“The first thing I’d suggest is to talk to the officer who was first at the scene of Janice Carter’s murder,” Ian said. “Sam Holden. I tracked him down. He’s living in Brookline. Shortly after finding Janice’s body in the living room of her house, Mr. Holden left the police force deciding the work wasn’t for him. He went back to school for engineering. He has his own company.” Ian took a small piece of paper from his jacket pocket. “Here’s his address. I arranged a meeting for the two of you with him. Keith okayed it.”
Claire said, “We read about the attempted abduction on the young girl near a ball field on the evening Janice was killed. Do you think it’s worth finding those siblings and speaking with them?” A nagging sensation had been picking at Claire ever since she’d heard about the man trying to snatch the girl. It seemed too much of a coincidence that both an abduction and a murder occurred on the same night.
“If Keith can find them, I think it would be wise to pay them a visit,” Ian said. “Listen to what they have to say. Jack Phillips’s notes didn’t include a lot about the abduction attempt. I don’t believe he interviewed the siblings either. The guy was let off due to lack of evidence so Jack must have thought it wasn’t worth pursuing.”
Nicole filled three carafes with cream, milk, and fat free milk to set out on the coffee bar. “How likely is it that Claire and I and your detective friend will be able to find anything new on this case?”
“Not very.” Ian sipped his coffee and set the mug down. “But if no one tries, then there’s absolutely no chance to find the killer.”
“You don’t think it’s a waste of time then?” Nicole asked.
“If there’s a chance to bring someone to justice, however slim the chance may be, then no, it isn’t a waste of time. And I appreciate that you two will help out.” Ian made eye contact with Claire. “You have strong intuition. It’s a special skill. An important skill. Not everyone has your ability.”
Claire swallowed hard and her heart began to pound.
Did Ian sense her abilities? Did he think she had skills that most people didn’t? Was he waiting for her to tell him what she could do?
Her racing heart sank into her stomach.
What if I tell him and I lose him?
7
“When I saw the dead woman on the floor, I knew I would be quitting my job.” Fifty-five-year-old Sam Holden sat at the glass table in his engineering and tech office and looked out the window to the Boston skyline. “I nearly passed out when I saw her … and all the blood.” The heavy-set, gray-haired man shook his head as his body gave a shudder. “I can still see it, that crime scene. After so long, after all these years, I can still see the details in the room. The image must be burned into my brain cells.”
“It must have been terrible for you.” Claire sat opposite the man, watching his face. The misery of walking into the bungalow and seeing Janice Carter dead on the floor was evident in his expression. “You were twenty-five at the time?”
“Yes, I was. A few years younger than the victim,” Sam said.
“Can you tell us about the morning?” Claire asked. “What happened when you arrived at Ms. Carter’s home?”
Sam blew out a breath. “I was in the squad car driving around the neighborhoods when I got the call. I really didn’t think much about it. There was no violent crime in Chatham Village. I thought maybe the woman had fallen and was unconscious or something. I thought the guy who called it in was being overly dramatic.”
“You went straight to the house after getting the call?” Nicole asked.
“I did. When I pulled up, the neighbor was waiting. I forget his name.”
“Mr. Adams,” Nicole reminded the man.
“Right. So I got out of the car and the guy hurried over to me. He looked shook up, kind of pale, he was talking fast. He told me he was raking his front yard when the little girl who lived in the house next door came outside and said her mother was dead. Adams told me he’d peeked into the house and there was a lot of blood in there. I asked if he checked the woman. He said he hadn’t. I still figured the woman had simply fallen down and bumped her head.”
“What happened next?” Claire leaned forward slightly.
“I reassured the guy and asked him to stay outside while I went in.” Some beads of perspiration showed on Sam’s forehead. “Then I went inside.” A long pause followed his words, and then he shook himself and blinked a few times. “Ms. Carter was on the floor, near the sofa. She had a lot of blood on her. Blood had pooled on the floor. There was a strange smell in the air, kind of metallic. I was told later the smell was from all the blood. I think about that scene and I can still smell it.” A look of disgust crossed Sam’s face.
“Did you go inside the house?” Claire asked.
“I took a couple of steps inside. I planned to check the woman for a pulse, but I … I couldn’t move my feet. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but my brain froze up. I couldn’t make my feet move forward. I started to shake. I got dizzy. I had to get out of there. I whirled around and took off, went back outside.” Sam looked down at the tabletop. “I had to gulp in the fresh air. The Adams guy came over to me. He said a few things, but I can’t honestly remember any of it. I heard him mumbling, but I couldn’t understand a word he said.”
“Did other officers arrive?” Claire wished she didn’t have to ask Sam any more questions.
“They did. I heard the sirens and it sort of shook me back to life. I was still like a zombie, but I went to my car and called it in. I asked for an ambulance. The dispatcher told me one was already on the way. I knew it wouldn’t matter how long it took to arrive. That woman was dead.”
“Is there anything else you can tell us about the scene?” Claire hoped Sam could provide more details on what the living room looked like when he stepped into the house.
The man shifted around in his seat seemingly unwilling to dwell on the terrible image. “The sofa was against the wall. The body was on the floor in front of the sofa. On the far wall, there was an open door to a room. I could see an unmade bed in there. A coffee table near the sofa was pushed out of place like it must have been bumped into during a fight.”
“Did you see a weapon or anything that could have been used as a weapon?” Nicole questioned.
“I didn’t. I could have missed it in my shock, but I think I would have noticed a weapon. Anyway, the officers who arrived and went inside did not find a weapon.”
“So the murder weapon was never found?” Claire asked.
“That’s correct. It was never found.”
“Janice Carter was stabbed to death?” Nicole asked the man.
Sam said, “She was. There were marks on her neck consistent with a strangulation attempt, but according to the medical examiner, the woman died from the stab wounds.”
“Did Janice fight back?”
“Yes, she did. There were defensive wounds on her hands and arms.”
“We’ve heard there was no sign of forced entry,” Claire said wanting to ask something less upsetting.
“That’s right. Ms. Carter must have opened the door to the person.”
“Can you describe how Janice was positioned?” Nicole asked.
Sam swallowed again. “She was on her stomach. Her head was turned so her face was looking to the right, to the sofa. Her right arm was out to the side, her hand in a blood pool. Her left arm was under her body.”
“Was she clothed?” Nicole asked the question.
“She was fully clothed. A shirt, jeans. Bare feet, though. No socks or shoes.” Sam sat up straighter. “I did see a wine glass on the floor.”
“Just one glass?”
“I think I heard there were two wine glasses on the floor, but I only noticed the one.”
“Two wine glasses,” Claire repeated. “If that was the case, then Janice must have known the person. She knew the attacker well enough to serve him or her a drink. What happened?” Claire thought out loud. “Someone comes by, either expected or not. Janice lets the person in, they probably sat on the sofa and sipped the wine. Then what? An argument? An unwanted advance? A kiss or a touch was rebuffed and the person became enraged?” Claire looked at Nicole.
“Did the killer bring a knife into the house?” Nicole asked. “That might indicate premeditation. Or did the killer run to the kitchen, get a knife, and begin his attack?”
Claire asked Sam, “Were these possibilities discussed? Did the detective or the investigators discuss what might have happened in that living room?”
“I avoided the discussion when I could. I gave my notice a week after I was in that house. I worked for two more weeks and that was the end of that. As far as I know, there was never a definitive decision on whether or not the attacker used his own knife or took one from the kitchen.”
“What about suspects?” Claire could feel tightness in her temples, an indication that a headache was coming on. “Did the investigators have any suspects in mind?”
“Have you heard about the guy who attempted to attack a little girl? It happened before Ms. Carter was killed.”
“We heard someone tried to kidnap a child that evening.” Nicole brushed a strand of her dark brown hair from her eyes.
“That’s right. The girl and her sister and brother looked at a lineup and the three of them picked out the same guy. The kids said they saw the guy on a bench at the ball field. It had to be him who tried to grab the girl, but he was let go. Not enough evidence against him.” Sam put one of his meaty hands on the table. “So the guy goes free. Terrible.”
“Do you recall the man’s name?” Claire asked. “We heard it was someone named Brandon Willis.”
“Yeah, that was him. Willis.” Sam said the name like it tasted bad. “If I remember right, the guy only lived in town for about six months. He moved away after being let go. I don’t know where he went.”
“Had you ever seen Janice Carter in town?” Claire questioned.
Sam’s eyes went wide and his breath hitched for a second. “I did see her around town now and then. Sometimes with the little girl. I talked to her once in a pub. A buddy and I went in for a beer. She was there with a friend.” Sam shifted his gaze out of the big glass windows. “I thought she was pretty,” he said softly. “Huh … if only there had been some way to have warned her about what was to come.” With sad eyes, Sam looked back at the two young women sitting across from him. “I have two sons. I was secretly relieved not to have had a daughter. I would never have been able to let her out of my sight.”
Claire’s heart clenched at the man’s depth of emotion. “Did you know the case files and the collected evidence from the case were destroyed in a small office fire?”
Sam’s face took on a look of shock. “I didn’t know that. How can the case be re-opened without the evidence? DNA testing was in its infancy back when Ms. Carter was murdered. I thought with the technology today, if you found a suspect, the DNA could be matched to what was collected at the scene.”
“It’s not to be,” Nicole said. “It’s all gone. All we have are some notes from a retired detective who looked into the case about ten years ago. The information is far from complete.”
“We’ll just need to figure out another way to catch the killer,” Claire said.
After a few minutes of chat, the young women thanked Sam for his help and stood to go.
Sam walked them to the door and as they were about to exit, he said, “I just thought of something else. Maybe it’s in the detective’s notes that you have, but that guy who tried to grab the little girl … he was wearing an unusual hoodie. It was orange. It had something written on it, but I can’t remember what it was.
” The man shrugged. “I don’t know why that popped into my head.”
A little shiver darted over Claire’s skin.
I bet because it’s important.
8
The little white lights Claire had strung along the fence at the back of her yard twinkled under the evening sky. Her Adamsburg Square brick townhouse had glass doors off the kitchen that led to a stone patio, a small plot of grass, and a huge shade tree. It was just enough space for the dogs to chase a ball and rest in the grass, and for Claire to grill and have dinner on the patio.
The Corgis lay in the grass and chewed on the ends of a long stick. Ian worked the grill while Nicole and Detective Keith Gagnon stood with him and chatted. Forty-five-year-old Keith was over six feet tall with a muscular build, brown hair, blue eyes, and a warm, friendly smile.
Claire brought out a green salad, a bowl of potato salad, and dish of creamy macaroni and cheese.
“You have a beautiful home,” Keith said to Claire as he sipped from his glass of beer. “This backyard is really great.”
“I love it here. It helps to have the yard for the dogs.”
“And thanks for offering to cook instead of meeting at a restaurant,” Keith said.
Ian carried platters with the burgers, kebobs, and veggie burgers to the table and the foursome took seats and dug into the food.
“How did you and Ian meet?” Nicole passed the salad dressing to Keith.
“At a conference,” the detective said. “We hit it off right away. We’ve consulted with one another on a regular basis and we trained together for a few half marathons. I started having some trouble with my hip so no more running for me.”
Claire smiled. “Now he makes me train with him.”
