Fortune's Favors

by J A Whiting

Her finger moved again.

  Make the letter, make the next letter, Claire urged. Tell me who did it. Was it Brandon?

  Janice’s finger began to form the next letter.

  “Claire? Are you okay?” Gagnon’s hand was on her arm.

  Claire blinked and when the image of Janice vanished, her heart sank. “I’m okay. I just got a little dizzy,” she said softly.

  “Let’s go outside and get some fresh air.” Gagnon maneuvered the young woman to the door.

  Before stepping out, Claire took a quick glance back to the blood on the floor.

  Almost. So close.

  25

  Claire paced around the living room of her townhouse, her brain feverishly racing through details and potential clues she’d been able to gather on the case.

  Claire wanted to talk the whole thing over with Nicole, but she was on her way to the wedding taste testing with her samples of sweets to try and win the contract to supply the wedding cake and other desserts for the swanky upcoming wedding. The bakers who had been invited for consideration could only bring one twelve-by-twelve-inch platter and all the desserts had to fit on that one tray. Nicole had been a nervous wreck ranting about the requirement that only one baker could attend. “Why can’t you two come with me? It’s not fair,” she’d told Claire and Robby.

  “You’ll do just fine. You don’t need us there,” Claire had tried to comfort her friend. “When you win the contract, the three of us will be there at the wedding.”

  Robby and Claire helped Nicole pack up the goodies and sent her off in a taxi.

  Still pacing up and down the length of her living room, Claire was still horrified that someone had tried to murder Joe Bricklin. What does he know? Who attempted to keep him quiet?

  Detective Gagnon texted Claire to let her know that Joe was in surgery and it would not be possible to interview him for at least two days.

  Claire’s brain kept coming back to Dug Duggin’s report of Joe tossing out his clothes on the night of Janice’s murder. It was not a normal thing to do and it sent up a huge red flag of concern. Joe still could be the killer, but maybe he worked together with someone else to commit the crime and that person decided it would be best if Joe was unable to confess to the murder.

  Who was the other person? Decades ago, Joe Bricklin and Brandon Willis played together on the softball team. There was a connection between them, but what could have been their motivation to kill Janice Carter? It wasn’t money … Janice lived paycheck to paycheck.

  Bricklin had an infatuation with Janice and Brandon had dated her. From accounts provided in the interviews, it seemed that Janice had rebuffed both men. Were they out for revenge? Did they team up to take revenge on her?

  Claire sank onto the sofa with one Corgi on each side of her and she looked at the fireplace. Thinking it would be comforting to light a fire, she dismissed the idea since she had to leave shortly to meet Ian at the airport to welcome him back from the conference he’d attended. She stared at the empty firebox and thoughts of her dream that Rowan was in swirled around in her mind.

  Let what you can do go free and fly like the doves, Rowan told her.

  There was something important in the message, but what was it?

  Letting her head rest against the sofa back, Claire closed her eyes … and a minute later, a thought flashed into her mind with such force that she sat bolt upright frightening the dogs and causing them to bark.

  Brandon Willis told Claire that he’d seen Brittany Patterson and Bricklin, wearing his orange hoodie, walking around town on the night of the attack. Brittany reported to Claire that she’d been at home studying.

  A chill squeezed Claire’s stomach.

  The orange team hoodie.

  Brandon Willis, Joe Bricklin, and Brittany Patterson were all close in height. All were slender and fair-skinned.

  Claire leaned forward and held her head in her hands. Oh, gosh. Brittany.

  With her heart racing, she grabbed her phone and called Detective Gagnon.

  When he picked up, Claire talked in rapid-fire speech. “I know it’s a crazy idea, but I think Brittany Patterson could be the killer. She was dating Joe Bricklin. Maybe she found out Joe had a thing for Janice. Joe thought he saw a man at Janice’s door. He retracted his statement. He could have been trying to protect Janice by telling police he saw a man. Joe got home late that night and was tossing out his clothes. He could have been throwing out Brittany’s clothes, too. Maybe Joe saw Brittany going into Janice’s and went over to see if he could visit with them. But he saw what Brittany did and she forced him to hide her bloody clothes. Joe must have had blood on his own clothes. Maybe Brittany threatened Joe into silence. I don’t know, but my intuition is telling me you need to go talk to her. Right now.”

  Gagnon was quiet on the other end of the call. “It’s a possibility.”

  “Brittany might have attacked Joe today to keep him from telling what he knows. She might be desperate and panicking.”

  “I’ll take a ride over there,” Gagnon said. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  Feeling slightly better that Gagnon would look into her concerns, Claire ended the call with the detective and then used her phone to order a cab to take her to the airport.

  When Claire was ten minutes from Logan Airport, her phone buzzed.

  Gagnon spoke. “Brittany Patterson is not at home. Her car is not in the garage and is not in the driveway. Hopefully, she hasn’t flown the coop.” He said he would put out a bulletin for officers to be on the lookout for her vehicle.

  Claire wished him good luck and as soon as she ended the call, her phone buzzed again. This time it was Kelly Carter Cox.

  “Claire? It’s Kelly. I’ve been thinking so much about my mother and the crime and the night of the murder. Snippets of things run through my mind … sights, sounds, flashes of things that happened when I was five. I’ve been dreaming so vividly, often about waking up in the morning on that terrible day and finding my mother dead on the floor.”

  “I’m sorry you’re reliving it,” Claire told the young woman. “I’m so very sorry it happened.”

  “I want to tell you something. I didn’t want to wait until I see you again.”

  “What is it?” A shiver ran down Claire’s spine.

  “I’ve been dreaming the same thing over and over. In the dream, I’m five years old and I’m sleeping in my bedroom on that awful night.” Kelly went quiet and Claire waited for her to go on.

  After clearing her throat, Kelly said, “I wake up. It’s dark. I hear my mother talking to someone in the living room. I hear two women’s voices. My mother had a woman visiting that night.”

  Claire’s throat tightened. “This is all in your dream?”

  “I remember it whenever I dream about that night,” Kelly said. “But the voice … the woman’s voice that I hear … I’m certain I heard it on the night of the murder.”

  “Did the woman sound familiar to you?” Claire’s hands felt clammy.

  Kelly said softly, “I think I heard Brittany Patterson talking to my mother.”

  Claire tried to keep her tone even. “Do you think it’s happening only in the dreams that you recognize the voice or do you think it really happened that night?”

  “I think it happened that night,” Kelly said. “I think it was Brittany Patterson who was with my mother. In fact, I’d bet anything it was Brittany in our living room.”

  The image of Janice on the floor of the living room jumped into Claire’s head. Janice’s finger writing out the letters. B … R. Was the next letter going to be – I?

  Claire could see the airport terminal coming up as the cab headed towards it, and in a few minutes the vehicle pulled to the curb. “I’ll tell Detective Gagnon what you remember. It could be very important.”

  Before ending the call, Kelly said, “I know Joe Bricklin was attacked earlier today. Someone tried to kill him. Be careful, Claire.”

  Ice cold fear rolled through Claire’s b
ody. If Brittany killed Janice and attacked Bricklin that very afternoon, she must be in a desperate state. She must be willing to do whatever is necessary not to be taken into custody.

  Claire wanted to run into the terminal, wrap her arms around Ian, and go home as quickly as they could.

  With her heart beating like a bass drum, Claire headed into the busy terminal that buzzed with activity. After checking the flight board to be sure Ian’s plane was on time, she started walking to his gate.

  A sense of panic rushed over Claire and she stopped. Rowan’s words played in her mind again. Let what you can do go free and fly like the doves.

  Fly like the doves.

  Fly.

  Brittany is going to try to the flee the country.

  Claire’s head whipped to right and she studied a group of people moving through the airport. Most of them pulled small, wheeled, carry-on bags behind them. Something caught her eye.

  A bright red scarf with colorful geometric patterns on it.

  The scarf was around the neck of a woman with blond hair wearing an expensive light jacket and black boots. The woman was in her late fifties or early sixties.

  Brittany.

  A gasp escaped Claire’s throat as she shook her shoulders and forced herself to follow the woman to keep her in her sights.

  She made a call to Detective Gagnon. “I see Brittany. I’m at the airport. She’s right ahead of me. She must be trying to leave the country.”

  “Keep a safe distance from her,” Gagnon was almost shouting. He asked what terminal she was in. “Don’t approach her. Don’t let her notice you. I’m going to hang up so I can call airport security. I’ll also send some officers. She needs to come in for questioning. Do not put yourself in danger. I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”

  Claire hurried her steps. She couldn’t lose sight of the woman.

  Brittany. The killer.

  You aren’t about to fly out of here. The police will be here soon. Your time is up. It’s the end of the line for you.

  26

  Claire lost the blond woman in a crowd heading to the security line and she panicked for a moment until she caught sight of the back of Brittany’s head. Bobbing and weaving through the terminal, Claire’s heart thudded with nervousness. What should I do if she gets into the security line? What should I do if she leaves the terminal?

  When Brittany bent to remove something from the front pocket of her small suitcase, she noticed Claire in the distance. She locked eyes with her.

  Brittany crumpled what she’d taken out of the suitcase and shoved it into the pocket of her light jacket. Claire gave a forced smile and a wave, trying to seem that nothing was wrong and that she was pleasantly surprised to run into the woman at the airport.

  Claire’s smile didn’t work.

  Brittany whirled around and moved quickly away.

  Glancing around the space for an officer or a security guard, Claire moved forward without finding anyone who might be able to help her.

  Brittany ducked outside and hurriedly crossed four lanes busy with vehicles coming and going from the terminals. Claire spotted her deft maneuver at the last second and darted out the wide glass doors to keep the woman in her sights.

  “Brittany,” she called trying to make it seem she was only interested in saying hello, but the blonde walked as fast as she could in the opposite direction.

  Taking a quick look over her shoulder, Brittany rounded a corner, abandoned her suitcase, and began to jog.

  Claire made the turn, but could not see where the woman had gone so she stood in one place and turned around in a circle searching for her.

  A sign for the restrooms pointed down a long hall and Claire made the spilt-second decision to head that way. She broke into a jog and raced to the women’s room where she burst through the door and stood askance.

  Walking slowly up and down, she trained her gaze below the stall doors for black booted feet.

  Nothing.

  With a sigh, Claire walked to the exit and was about to turn into the hallway, when a hand settled heavily on her shoulder, something hard was jabbed into the side of her waist, and a woman whispered close to her ear.

  “If you value your life, keep a serene look plastered on your face and move in the direction I’m guiding you.”

  Claire played dumb, but allowed the woman to move her along. “What are you doing? What are you up to? Why are you acting this way?”

  “Don’t ask stupid questions,” Brittany’s voice sounded like she had a mouth full of gravel. “You know what’s going on.” She gave Claire a slight shove. “You’re a smart woman. It was only a matter of time.” An iron grip squeezed Claire’s arm. “I need to get out of here and you aren’t going to get in my way.”

  Brittany’s fingers dug into Claire’s arm and she directed the young woman through the doors into the parking garage where she found the elevator, pushed the up button, and dragged Claire inside when the doors opened.

  “We’re going for a little ride.” Brittany punched the button for the fifth floor.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Claire snarled.

  A harsh smile gave Brittany’s face an ugly appearance. “Too late. You have no choice.”

  The elevator lurched to a stop and when the doors opened, Brittany said, “Move to the back of the elevator car. Do it,” she screamed.

  Claire took a step back.

  “Stay there and don’t move. Better yet, kneel down and put your hands behind your head.”

  “No.” Claire was certain that Brittany would try to stab her or shoot her when she was in a vulnerable position and unable to defend herself.

  Brittany had her hand against the elevator door to keep it from closing. “Kneel,” she shrieked.

  “Keep yelling,” Claire told the woman with a sneer. “Someone will hear you and come to see what’s going on.”

  “Shut up. Turn around and kneel.”

  Claire wouldn’t budge thinking if Brittany had a weapon in her possession, she would have used it by now. She took slow steps forward, advancing on her.

  The woman’s face turned stony and she lunged at Claire, cursing.

  Claire raised a hand, clasped it into a fist, and pounded Brittany right in the face just as the elevator door closed with the two women inside and began its slow descent to a lower floor.

  Brittany caught Claire under the chin with a strong blow sending her staggering back, sparks flaring in her brain and light-headedness causing her head to spin.

  When Brittany came at her again, Claire side-stepped her, wheeled and punched again, this time, the blow landing against the woman’s shoulder.

  With sweat running down the side of her face, Claire crouched, her fists up, ready to continue the battle.

  When the elevator door opened on the first floor, Brittany bolted to escape, but Claire was too quick. In a split-second, she extended her leg catching the woman’s foot and sending her flying out onto the hard tiled floor of the terminal. Losing her balance in the melee, Claire tumbled forward and hit the floor right behind Brittany and scrambled forward before her opponent could get up.

  Claire sat on the woman and pulled both of Brittany’s arms behind her back until the blonde wailed in pain.

  Four businessmen stood to the side, their mouths open and eyes wide, staring at the surprising scene before them.

  “Get security,” Claire bellowed. “Now.”

  Sitting in an airport security office holding an ice pack to her swelling lip, with her hair askew and her jacket ripped, Claire had done her best to explain what had happened and that Brittany Patterson was wanted by the police.

  Detective Gagnon and several other officers finally arrived and took Brittany into custody for assault and battery and would have a long talk with her about a crime that had been committed thirty years ago. The woman was hauled off by two officers.

  Gagnon asked questions and Claire answered as best she could.

  “I didn’t say a word t
o Brittany about being a suspect in Janice Carter’s murder. I figured I’d leave that to you.” When Claire smiled, she winced from the discomfort of her broken lip.

  “I didn’t know you could throw a punch,” Gagnon smirked.

  “Neither did I.” Claire gingerly rubbed the side of her face.

  When Ian’s flight landed, a security guard was there to meet him and led him to the office where Gagnon and Claire were waiting.

  When Ian came in through the door, he stopped short for a moment when he saw his girlfriend battered and bruised, his eyes wide with worry. “Are you okay?” He rushed to Claire’s side and hugged her gently. “Is anything broken?”

  “I don’t think so even though my nose was bleeding for about twenty minutes. Sorry I wasn’t at the gate to meet you.” Claire’s jaw ached like crazy from taking a blow.

  Ian knelt next to Claire’s chair and smiled at her. “You did a good job.”

  Gagnon cleared his throat. “A word of warning. Never make this woman angry.”

  Ian laughed. “I’ll always stand an arm’s length away.” He pulled his girlfriend close and ran his hand over her long blond curls. “Forget that idea. That’s never going to work.”

  Claire attempted a chuckle and groaned. “I think maybe I should go to the hospital to get checked out now. I wanted to wait for you.”

  Ian helped her to her feet. “Come on, hon. And when we’re done there, I’ll take you home and make you some tea. Then I’ll give you your pain meds and help you to bed.”

  Feeling safe and loved in Ian’s care, Claire slipped her arm through his and let him lead her aching body slowly outside to get a cab.

  27

  Brittany Patterson was arrested for the murder of Janice Carter. Joe Bricklin came out of his surgery with a request to speak to the police. When Detective Gagnon arrived in his hospital room, the man spoke nonstop for an hour and when the nurse reminded them that Joe needed to rest, law enforcement returned the next day to hear the rest of the story.