by J A Whiting
In a black suit, black and white checkered shirt, and a black blazer, Claire walked out of a ten-story building in the city’s financial district wearing dark sunglasses. She’d slicked her blond curls back into a bun. Leaving the meeting with her lawyer and her financial advisor, Claire made her way back to Adamsburg Square and entered Tony’s market.
“You’re looking good, Blondie,” Tony told her from behind the deli counter. “But you don’t have to dress up to visit me,” he kidded.
Bear and Lady heard Claire’s voice and ran from the back store room to greet her. Tessa was sitting in back sipping a coffee and Claire went to join her.
“You look very professional today,” Tessa smiled.
“You interviewing for a job or something?” Tony asked.
Sitting down at the table with Tessa, Claire shook her head. “I have a job that I love, so no, I wasn’t at an interview. But, my meeting did have something to do with the chocolate shop.” With a mischievous grin, she added, “You’ll have to wait for me to explain in a few days. It’s a surprise.”
Tony rubbed his hands together. “I love a surprise.” He and the dogs headed for the store room.
“I don’t like surprises,” Tessa said with one eyebrow raised. “Can you let your secret slip?”
“I’d rather not.” Claire eyed her friend. “I had a strange dream the other night.”
“Oh?” Tessa wrapped her hands around her cup.
“At least, I’m pretty sure it was a dream.”
Tessa gave Claire a careful look.
“You came to visit me at home one evening. The fire was going. It was cozy. We talked.” Claire sipped her hot tea. “Is your friend, Rowan, in town?”
“Rowan? No, she’s not. She’s in London. Why do you ask?”
“Rowan was with you. She gave me some advice.”
“I see. Then your experience was definitely a dream,” Tessa said. “Did the advice help you?”
“I think so. I think it will.” Claire shrugged. “But, it was only a dream.”
“Don’t discount dreams, Claire. They can be very useful.” Tessa looked at her friend with a pointed expression. “It can be very hard to send advice through dreams.”
A smile slowly spread over Claire’s face. “I knew it was more than a dream. Your friend can send messages through a dream, can’t she?”
“What a silly notion.” The very corner of Tessa’s mouth turned up.
“Did you ask Rowan to help me?”
“Hmm, I might have.” Tessa checked her watch. “Oh, look at the time. I need to get back to work. I only stopped by for a quick visit with that handsome market owner.” Tessa winked and said goodbye. “I’ll pop into the back room and grab a kiss from that big lug of mine.”
“Tell Rowan thank you,” Claire said with a twinkle in her eye.
“I’ll do that.”
Claire and Tony chatted together for twenty minutes while he worked at the counter when a text came in from Detective Gagnon.
It’s happening in a half hour.
“Can the dogs stay here a little longer?” Claire asked Tony. “I need to go to another meeting.”
“Those dogs can move in permanently. I’m happy to have their company.” Tony carried some paper bags to the front of the store. “You go to your meeting, Blondie. Take all the time you need. We’ll be here when you’re done.”
Tall trees grew on the far side of the cemetery’s property line and their leaves had a soft crimson tinge to them. The late afternoon peacefulness of the place was interrupted by the rumble of a backhoe’s engine.
Claire stood off to the side to watch the officials dig into the earth where Janice Carter had been buried. Kelly Carter Cox was next to Claire, sniffing a little and touching a tissue to her eyes.
“Would you rather not watch?” Claire asked kindly. “We can sit in your car.”
“I’d rather be here.”
The backhoe went silent and several men continued to dig with long-handled shovels. When the casket was raised, it was placed into the back of a hearse and driven away.
When Detective Gagnon approached the women and said kind words of support and encouragement to Kelly, Claire glanced around the area and noticed several people watching the process from different vantage points. They were too far away for her to clearly see their faces, but she felt something like a warning sensation run along her skin.
Before calling a cab to take her back to the city, Claire, along with Detective Gagnon, walked Kelly to her car.
“Now we just have to wait,” Kelly said as she gave Claire a parting hug. “I hope they can find some viable DNA. It might be our only hope to solve my mother’s case.”
“We’ll keep our fingers crossed.” Claire wasn’t pinning her hopes on the examiner’s luck extracting DNA from Janice Carter’s body. Her real hope was that the exhumation and the subsequent news stories about it would frighten the person responsible for the murder into making a mistake of some kind. Now, it was a waiting game.
Detective Gagnon said, “We gave a good performance to the press. Although we have no idea if viable DNA will be found, we’ve set the wheels in motion. If the killer thinks we might be on to him, he may do something desperate.”
“There’s a chance that DNA will be found, isn’t there?” Claire asked.
“It’s possible to be able to extract Janice’s DNA, but the real jackpot will be if the examiner finds foreign DNA on the body that could be matched to the killer. We’ll just let our plan for finding foreign DNA on Janice spread through the news agencies and hope that the information reaches the ears of the killer.” Gagnon let out a sigh. “It’s a heck of a long shot, but at the moment, we don’t have much else.”
Something pulled at Claire from the right side of the cemetery, but when she turned to look, there was nothing there, but the grassy lawns and the marked graves of the deceased. Giving herself a slight shake, she silently scolded herself for being so jumpy.
“When is Ian returning from the conference?” Gagnon asked.
“Tomorrow. I’m going to pick him up at the airport. He texted and told me it’s been a worthwhile event.”
“He’s lucky he attended a good one,” Gagnon said. “They’re not all so useful.”
The detective asked Claire if she needed a ride anywhere and when she declined the offer, he headed for his vehicle. “I’ll keep you and Nicole in the loop. I’m not going to hold my breath, but with a lot of good fortune, we’ll get the break we need in this case.”
Claire watched out the window of the cab as it moved along the streets carrying her back to her Boston townhouse. Houses, buildings, trees, a river, the highway all sped past as she traveled.
She thought about Janice Carter, her losses, the vicious end to her life. Who killed her? Why? How did the murderer manage to elude the police for so long? Will it ever be solved? Why can’t I do more to help?
Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the vehicle’s back seat. The dream she’d had about Tessa and Rowan came into her mind. The fire, the birds, the words Rowan said to her.
Let what you can do go free and fly like the doves. Let what you can see and feel be part of you. Everything you need is available to you. Let it flow over your hands like water.
It didn’t feel like her skill was available to her. It felt like it had abandoned her.
How could Rowan send advice to her in a dream?
It seemed so very ridiculous, but the past year had shown that there were things in the world that could not be explained, at least not by Claire. Paranormal skills, murder, liars, rage and jealousy that could lead someone to kill.
Jim and Jessie Matthews, the bakery owners, who were so envious of and threatened by Nicole that they managed to get her evicted from the building that housed her chocolate shop. How could they even hatch such a mean, hateful, and vengeful plan?
The negative thoughts caused Claire’s stomach to ache and she opened her eyes to glance out the window. The cab
had stopped at a red light.
Outside was a green park. Some colored leaves blew over the grass. A baby in a stroller was being pushed by his mother. The baby’s hat blew off in a gust of wind and bounced quickly away, over the grass. A young man noticed and ran off to capture the little cap. He returned it to the mother with a smile.
The short interaction warmed Claire’s heart and lifted her spirits.
Maybe what she needed to do was focus on the good things in the world. Her friends. The chocolate shop. Her Corgis. Tony. Tessa. Robby. Nicole. And, Ian. The joy of her life.
Maybe the power of good was the central point she needed to let her skills fly like the doves in her dream.
A smile played over Claire’s lips.
She would grip that power with both hands … and she would not let it go.
24
On the way home after her shift at the chocolate shop, Claire felt antsy. Before work, she’d met with Detective Gagnon to review the case and discuss where they would go from there. Claire brought up inconsistencies that had been bugging her.
Joe Bricklin made it seem that he hadn’t been seriously dating Brittany Patterson, but others reported that the two of them had been a couple. Joe didn’t reveal that he went out later in the evening after claiming to see a man on Janice’s doorstep. He’d implied that he was home all night. Why did he return to his rented house a couple of hours before dawn in a rush to toss out the clothes he’d been wearing that night?
Brandon Willis claimed to have left the ball field area before the Harrison girl was attacked, but all three siblings were sure it was Brandon who knocked Sally from her bike. Brandon admitted to dating Janice a couple of times, but didn’t seem bothered that she didn’t want to see him anymore. Was he hiding the fury he’d felt at being dumped? But Brandon supposedly had been stalking Janice.
Brittany Patterson told Claire she’d been at home studying the night Janice was killed, but Brandon remembered seeing her and Joe Bricklin in town together.
Gagnon suggested that Claire talk to Bricklin again about his relationship with Brittany and about where he went later on the night of the murder.
The whole thing picked at Claire. She glanced at the time on her phone and made a decision. Turning around, she headed for the subway to take her to Somerville.
Arriving at Davis Square, Claire checked the notes on her phone to find Joe Bricklin’s address, and then walked for fifteen minutes to a neighborhood of tree-lined streets, tended houses, and three decker apartment buildings.
Claire stood in front of Bricklin’s small, white ranch-style house thinking she should have called before showing up unannounced at the man’s home. She knew Joe got off work at 3pm and might be home by 4 and she was right since his truck was parked in the driveway. Feeling badly about barging in on Bricklin, she decided to walk to the end of the road and give him a call to see if he would be willing to speak with her.
As Claire was about to turn around, a blue truck pulled to the curb and a tall man got out. She noticed a resemblance between this person and Joe Bricklin.
“Excuse me,” Claire called.
The man glanced back and looked surprised that Claire was speaking to him. “Me?”
“Yes. Are you Joe’s brother, Mack?” Claire introduced herself. “I work with the police as an interviewer. I’ve spoken with Joe recently.”
“Today?” Mack asked. The man had broad shoulders, dark eyes, and dark hair cut close to the head and Claire guessed he must work construction like his younger brother.
“Not today. About a week ago. I need to speak with Joe again, but I didn’t make an appointment. I was in the neighborhood,” she fibbed, “and thought I’d see if I could catch him at home.”
“You said you work for the police?” Mack asked.
“On an as-needed basis, yes.”
Mack moved a little closer and took a quick look at Joe’s house. “I’ve been worried about Joe.”
A sense of unease raced through Claire. “Have you?”
Mack ran his hand over his head. “Joe seems kind of anxious. He hasn’t been himself. He told me the Carter case has been re-opened. It seems to be bothering him.”
“Has he said much to you about the case?” Claire asked.
“No, he hasn’t. He used to live across the street from the woman. You must know that. I wonder….”
“What? What do you wonder?” Claire’s heart began to race.
“I wonder if Joe … oh, I don’t know.”
“You have some concerns?”
“Joe seems upset since he found out the case has been opened again.” Mack looked to the house again. “Listen, Joe is no killer. He didn’t kill that woman, but I wonder … I wonder if he saw something that night. Something seems to be eating at him.”
“Is Joe at home?” Claire asked.
“I came by to pick up a key. Joe told me he’s going away for a few days. He wants me to check on his cat. I had a key, but I can’t find it.”
Alarm bells rang in Claire’s head. “Do you want to talk to Joe about the case? The three of us could sit and talk. Do you think he’d be willing? Do you have the time?”
“Yeah, sure. I think it’s best to have Joe get whatever’s bothering him off his chest,” Mack said. “Maybe if the three of us talk together, he’ll open up.”
“Does your brother go off for a few days on a regular basis?”
“No, he doesn’t. That’s why I’m worried that this case is eating at him.”
Claire took out her phone. “Let me just text my supervisor and let him know what I’m doing.” The message to Detective Gagnon spelled out Mack Bricklin’s concerns about his brother and added - I’m not sure I’m going to go inside. If Joe seems agitated I’m going to leave. If you don’t hear from me in five minutes, send help.
Claire forced a smile. “Okay. Shall we?”
Mack led the way to the front door where he rang the bell.
Claire heard the chimes, but no one answered the door.
Mack hit the bell again. “Joe’s truck is here.”
“Could he have walked somewhere? Gone for a run?” Claire asked.
“I don’t think so.” Mack tried the doorknob. Locked. “Let’s go around to the back. Maybe he’s in the yard.”
When they reached the rear of the house, there was no one in the yard. Mack tried the back doorbell, and got the same response. Nothing. Perspiration beaded up on the man’s forehead. “I’ll call him,” Mack said as he removed his phone from his back pocket. No answer.
Mack walked back to the front with Claire right behind and he pressed his face up to the glass in the bay window. His shout sent adrenaline racing through Claire’s veins.
“Joe! My brother! He’s on the floor!” Mack raced to the front door and crashed against it using his full body weight, but it didn’t budge. Hitting the door a few more times produced the same result.
Claire picked up a rock she found next to the driveway and handed it to Mack who used it to break the glass in the door so he could reach inside and unlock the door.
Joe was on the floor of the living room, on his back, unconscious and all Claire could think about was the image of Janice Carter, dead on her living room floor.
Mack knelt next to his brother and called his name.
Claire saw the blood. Joe’s wrists had been slashed. His face was deathly pale.
“He killed himself,” Mack wailed.
Claire used her phone to call for an ambulance and then sent a text to Detective Gagnon before kneeling down to check for Joe’s pulse. “There’s a pulse. He’s still alive.”
“Joe, Joe,” Mack murmured.
Claire noticed the blood pool next to the unconscious man and her heart jumped into her throat. Pulling Joe’s shirttail up, she gasped when she saw the knife wound in the man’s stomach.
“He didn’t try to kill himself.” Claire stood, her legs shaking. “Someone attacked him.” Wheeling around, Claire listened for footsteps inside t
he house. Did the attacker run or is he still in the house? She pulled her pepper spray from her small handbag and stood in a defensive posture in case someone rushed them.
Sirens.
Claire breathed a sigh of relief.
In less than three minutes, two EMTs hurried into the room through the front door with a police officer right behind.
Claire gave an account of what had happened when she arrived to the house. Mack was in no state to chime in, he was so distraught about his brother.
Next through the door was Detective Gagnon looking for Claire with nervous eyes. Relief flooded his face when he spotted her standing with the officer.
“Someone attacked him, tried to make it look like Bricklin attempted suicide.”
“I suppose Bricklin could have stabbed himself in the stomach before slashing the wrists,” Gagnon speculated while taking a look at the man on the stretcher being removed from the house to the ambulance. Mack followed behind to ride with his brother to the hospital.
“No, he didn’t,” Claire said with authority. “That’s what someone wants us to think. We aren’t falling for it.” She looked Gagnon right in the eyes and lowered her voice. “We wanted to push someone to act with the exhumation of Janice’s body. We hoped someone might panic and do something stupid. Well, we got what we wished for, didn’t we?” Claire teared up and swallowed hard. “Somebody panicked. Somebody thinks Joe Bricklin knows something important and decided to silence him. Now the question is … who did it?”
“Any guesses?”
“Brandon Willis?” Claire suggested.
“I’ll have someone find out where Mr. Willis was this afternoon. Then I’ll pay him a visit and have a talk.” Gagnon shook his head. “Bricklin would have bled out if you and his brother didn’t show up here.”
Claire turned to look at the bloody spot on the wood floor where Joe had fallen.
Her vision dimmed and the image of Janice Carter on the floor of her house swam in her mind.
Janice’s hand moved. Her finger touched the pool of blood. She made a letter, and then another one. B … R.
