When Fortune Knocks

by J A Whiting

  “Does Jenny have hobbies she likes?”

  Martin looked baffled. “Well, she likes to work out.”

  “Anything else?”

  “She enjoys shopping.”

  Claire mentally rolled her eyes.

  “I have some questions that might be considered sensitive,” Ian warned the man.

  “Oh?” Martin leaned back in his chair subconsciously attempting to remove himself from anything he wasn’t going to like.

  “Did you have an interest in Grace?” Ian asked.

  Claire was sure Martin would deny this, but her eyebrows arched at his response.

  “Yes, I did. Grace had it all. I mentioned at the beginning of our discussion all the fine attributes Grace possessed. I felt like we were very similar in our drive, intelligence, and ambition. I would have liked to date Grace.”

  Ian asked, “Do you think that would have been awkward seeing that Grace and Jenny were friends and roommates?”

  “Perhaps, but I think Grace was a better match for me. I don’t think Jenny and I are the right fit.”

  Claire was amazed at the man’s admissions. Other people would be more discreet about their attraction to a friend of someone he or she was dating.

  “Did you ask Grace out?”

  “Yes, many times. She declined my offers.” The muscle near Martin’s jaw tightened. “I would have persisted if she’d lived.”

  Claire thought Martin was being insensitive to the fact that Grace had been murdered and she could sense the man didn’t like to be refused.

  “When was the last time you saw Grace?”

  “Let’s see,” Martin said. “I’m not sure when it was. Maybe a week before Jenny and I went to New Hampshire?”

  “Had you ever argued with Grace?”

  “No, of course not.”

  Did you ever run into Grace out at a restaurant or a bar?”

  “Never. I certainly don’t recall running into her.”

  “Did you text Grace on occasion?”

  “Yes, I did. I invited her to go out.”

  “Did Grace ever initiate contact with you?”

  “No, unfortunately.”

  “Do you happen to own any guns?” Ian asked.

  Martin’s face registered shock. “Why do you ask that?”

  “We aren’t accusing you of anything. We’re simply trying to determine if Grace knew anyone who had access to guns. It’s a fairly standard question in an investigation like this.”

  Ian’s explanation seemed to satisfy Martin because he said, “In fact, I’m a gun collector. I have many examples of historic weapons. I also have a smaller collection of modern day guns. Everything is in beautiful wooden cases in my library at my home in Weston. All of the cases are locked unless I’m admiring a piece or showing it to a guest. You may want to come have a look, Detective. I think you’d find them interesting.” The man turned towards Claire. “You are more than welcome to see them, too, Ms. Rollins. I’d love to show you the pieces. Come to my home sometime and I’ll show you around.” Martin gave her a look and a smile that made Claire want to get up and run from the room.

  Thanks, but no thanks.

  14

  Wearing a royal blue dress that emphasized her fit physique, Claire fiddled with her shoulder-length curls. Her blue eyes popped from the eyeliner, neutral shadow, and a bit of mascara. She’d chosen silver and navy dangle earrings to finish off the outfit and when she went into the living room, Ian’s mouth dropped open.

  “I … you … wow.”

  The Corgis barked with delight and danced around the man.

  The young couple told the dogs to be good and then hurried to the door to meet Ryan and Nicole who had arrived in a hired car. The group was swept off to the Boston Opera House to see the show Robby was starring in.

  The Opera House opened in 1928 as a luxurious movie theatre and now hosted Broadway shows, musicals, and was the home of the Boston Ballet. The theatre seats were covered with red velvet, there was a gorgeous mural painted on the ceiling, the walls had carved wooden inlays, gold accents abounded, and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Patrons could imagine they were sitting in a sumptuous, regal European palace.

  Settled in their seats in the opulent theatre, the foursome chatted and sipped from glasses of champagne.

  “I needed this.” Nicole glanced around at the people in their fine clothes. “A night out with friends to applaud our baking buddy ... away from tales of crime and from the business of the day.”

  “I agree, but I’m a nervous wreck hoping Robby has a good performance,” Claire said.

  “You’re like a clucking mother hen,” Nicole teased. “But I have to admit, I’m nervous for Robby, too.”

  “He’s a pro,” Ian pointed out. “He’ll blow everyone away.”

  The lights dimmed and as the theatre-goers hurried to their seats, the music started, the deep red velvet curtains moved back, and the performers took the stage. For the next two hours, the audience was treated to musical performances that included songs from Broadway plays, rock music, pop music, country, gospel, and a bit of opera all skillfully woven together to tell a story that sucked the concertgoers into the hearts of the singers and dancers.

  Robby performed five times singing the lead and pouring his heart and soul into each note and every movement. His voice traveled effortlessly from the low notes to the high ones carrying the audience along in the beauty of his performance. When he received a standing ovation, tears fell from Claire’s eyes as she and her companions joined in the rousing applause for the talented young man.

  Ian leaned close to Claire so she could hear him over the cheering. “Robby’s going to be a huge star one day. He was amazing.”

  They slowly made their way to the lobby where they would wait for Robby to take him out for a celebratory dinner. Ian and Ryan brought over more glasses of champagne. “It will take Robby a while to come out. I’m sure he’s receiving a lot of congratulations on his performance,” Ryan told them.

  A few acquaintances made their way over and the four friends discussed the show, city happenings, and current events with them. The crowd slowly thinned out and Claire received a text from Robby saying he would be out to meet them in about fifteen minutes.

  When the young man finally emerged from the dressing room, he was greeted with whoops, cheers, hugs, and handshakes.

  “You were unbelievably fantastic,” Claire gushed.

  Nicole wrapped the singer in a big hug. “And I thought you were only a great baker,” she kidded him.

  Ian and Ryan lavished Robby with praise and vigorously shook his hand.

  A handsome young man wearing a fitted suit came over to the group.

  “Can my friend come along with us?” Robby introduced James Pearl to his four pals.

  “Of course,” Claire said as she shook hands with James.

  “James is studying composition and orchestral conducting. He’s a musical genius. He’s a master of piano performance.”

  James smiled, shook his head, and waved his hand in the air. “Robby’s exaggerating.”

  “No, I’m not. You need to come and see him play sometime. Then you’ll see I’m telling the truth.”

  The six friends went to a fancy restaurant down by the waterfront, and enjoyed delicious food and drinks and raised glasses several times to Robby’s incredible performance before moving into the lounge overlooking the harbor. Lights flickered over the dark water making it sparkle.

  Claire and Robby went to the bar to order desserts for the group and they stood together sipping glasses of seltzer listening to the music and watching the people come and go.

  Someone caught Claire’s eye and she straightened, with a look of surprise on her face. Robby noticed. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “The woman over there in the red dress.” Claire nodded her head in the direction of the tables by the windows.

  “Oh, her. I ran into her the other night.”

  Claire’s hea
d spun towards Robby. “How do you know her?”

  “I don’t know her. I was out walking with James one evening. We’d had dinner and it was so nice out, we went for a walk.” Robby’s face clouded. “It was the night Grace Dylan got murdered.”

  “Well, how do you know the woman?” Claire prompted, eager to learn how Robby was acquainted with her.

  “So we were walking and she came towards us from the other direction. She was walking really fast. She had high heels on. Anyway, she turned her ankle and fell down right in front of us. We went to help her. She was in a lot of pain so we offered to call an ambulance for her, but she refused. I had an unopened bottle of water. I gave it to her. After a while, the pain lessened and we helped her up. She thanked us for our help, and then she left.”

  “Where was she going?”

  “I don’t know.” Robby shrugged.

  Claire made eye contact with her friend. “You said it was the night Grace got killed?”

  Robby’s face drooped. “Yeah.”

  “What time did you run into her?” Claire demanded.

  “Um. Let’s see.” Robby stroked his chin. “Around 10:30 maybe. It’s an estimate.”

  Claire stared at the woman in the red dress.

  “Why do you look like that?” Robby asked his friend.

  “Because … that woman was Grace’s roommate.”

  “Was she? I had no idea.” Robby’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute. Grace’s roommate was in New Hampshire that night.”

  “So she claimed.” Claire’s lips were tight. “Are you sure the woman over there is the woman you helped?”

  “I’m positive.” Robby waved James over.

  James and Nicole came over to the bar.

  “Tell me if you know the person over there,” Claire gestured so both Nicole and James would glance to the other side of the room.

  “Which one?” Nicole asked.

  Claire was about to say the woman in the red dress when she realized Jenny Harrington was no longer sitting where she had been. Claire turned her head looking all over the room for the woman.

  “Who do you mean?” Nicole asked again.

  “She’s gone.” Robby shook his head.

  “Who was it? A celebrity?”

  With a frown, Claire said, “It was Jenny Harrington, Grace’s roommate.”

  “Was it? Where did she go?” Nicole’s expression suddenly flattened. “So Jenny is out having a good time even though her best friend died a few days ago? She must really feel badly about losing her friend.”

  Robby repeated the story of how he and James had run into Jenny on the night Grace died.

  “How did she seem?” Nicole questioned.

  “Like she was in a hurry,” James said.

  “Did she seem drunk?”

  “No.”

  “What was she wearing?” Claire wanted to know.

  “Dark jeans, high heels, a nice shirt,” Robby said.

  “She had on a navy blazer, too. It looked expensive,” James added.

  “Did she have any blood on her?” Nicole questioned with narrowed eyes.

  “Blood?” James sounded alarmed, but then asked, “Oh, you mean from the fall?”

  “Did you see any blood?” Nicole asked again.

  “I don’t think so. I didn’t notice any.”

  “Why was she in Boston that night?” Nicole tapped a finger on the bar.

  James looked confused by the discussion.

  “The woman told us she was in New Hampshire with her boyfriend that night,” Claire explained.

  “Maybe they came back earlier than they planned,” James suggested.

  “She lied to us.” Claire was steaming. “She lied to the police.”

  “Wait a second.” Nicole thought of something. “The police said Jenny’s phone pinged in the area of Portsmouth.” Turning to Robby, she asked, “Are you sure the woman Claire pointed out was the one who fell on the sidewalk?”

  Robby put his hand on his hip. “I’m positive. I notice what people look like. I notice what they’re wearing. I have a keen eye and I don’t miss much.”

  Ian and Ryan came over to join them.

  “Are you going to come back to the table?” Ryan asked. “Or should we stay here at the bar with you?”

  Claire told them who had been on the far side of the room sitting with a couple of people.

  Ian’s face became serious. “Was she?”

  Robby told his story about running into the woman.

  “This was the night Grace was killed? Are you sure about that?” Ian asked.

  Robby let out a loud sigh. “You all know me. Why do you keep asking me if I’m sure? I’m always sure. The woman who was sitting over there was the woman who fell on the sidewalk in front of us.”

  “But Jenny’s phone pinged from a Portsmouth location in New Hampshire on that night,” Nicole reminded the detective.

  Claire’s stomach felt cold and ill and her heart sank. She was pretty sure she knew what Ian was going to say next.

  “Well,” Ian said, the muscle near his jaw tightening. “Her phone was in New Hampshire. It doesn’t mean Jenny was there with it. I guess it’s time we had another chat with Ms. Harrington.”

  15

  The early evening air was warm with hardly any humidity. Claire was running around the perimeter of the Boston Common while Bear and Lady played with the other dogs on the hill chasing and darting around as fast as their little legs would take them. An acquaintance of Claire’s who had two beagles was keeping an eye on the Corgis while she exercised.

  When she rounded the corner, Claire saw Tessa wave at her from the bench she was sitting on by the Frog Pond and she jogged over.

  “You’re early.” Claire smiled as the Corgis raced over to greet the woman.

  “What a nice hello from my favorite dogs.” Tessa chuckled as the dogs bounced around her. When they settled down, she patted their heads and behind their ears. “I’m happy to sit here and wait if you’re not done with your run.”

  “I’m all set.” Claire wiped some perspiration from her forehead and sat down next to her friend. “It will give me an excuse to stop.”

  The dogs ran off to play with a Poodle and a Labrador retriever.

  “It’s pleasant to be outside after being in the office all day,” Tessa said. “It’s a beautiful evening.” The woman was a professional medium, did psychic readings, palm readings, and Tarot card interpretation in addition to working four days a week at a financial firm in the city. She and Claire were meeting to get a bite to eat and talk about Grace Dylan’s case.

  Tessa, Claire, and the dogs walked to Claire’s townhouse in Adamsburg Square just a few blocks from the Common. Claire changed, fed the dogs, and then the two women strolled to a small, cozy restaurant in Beacon Hill.

  “How are things going?” Tessa sipped her red wine.

  “Not so good.” Claire split the antipasto between their plates. “The case is confusing.” She went over some details with her friend. “Grace’s boyfriend, Harry, claimed to be accepting of their breakup, but a colleague from Grace’s program went out with her one evening. Harry stormed in and made a scene. He was removed from the place by a bouncer. Grace’s colleague told me he’d never seen anyone so angry.”

  Tessa narrowed her eyes. “It seems Harry hadn’t fully accepted the breakup.”

  “And then last night, we were at Robby’s show. We all went out for dinner and drinks. I saw Grace’s roommate, Jenny, sitting with two men on the other side of the room. Robby told me he’d run into Jenny near Downtown Crossing when she twisted her ankle and fell.” Claire made eye contact with Tessa. “That happened on the night Grace was killed. It was the night Jenny and her boyfriend were supposedly in New Hampshire.”

  Tessa held her fork in the air for a few moments as she digested what Claire just told her. “So Jenny lied about her whereabouts.”

  “Robby is absolutely positive the woman who fell on the sidewalk was the woman in the restau
rant lounge. It was Jenny.”

  When their meals were delivered, the women paused their conversation for a few minutes.

  “The question is,” Tessa said, “did Jenny lie for personal reasons or did she lie to cover up something about Grace’s death?”

  “Personal reasons like what?” Claire asked.

  “She might have needed to come home for something unrelated to Grace.”

  “Why would Jenny lie about it if she had a legitimate reason for coming home?” Claire blinked.

  “She might not want to tell a stranger the reason for her return.” Tessa cut into her eggplant Parmesan. “Are you or Ian going to speak with the young woman again?”

  “Tomorrow. We’re both going to talk to her.”

  “Good. Watch her face, watch her hands. Look for slip-ups in her timeline. But remember, if she appears nervous when answering your questions, her discomfort may have nothing to do with Grace. Try to go into the interview with no preconceived notions. That can prevent you from picking up on things. If your feelings of mistrust are pulsing through your mind, you will miss information Jenny will be giving off. Breathe deeply, clear your mind, and open your heart to what floats on the air.”

  Claire released a sigh. “Easier said than done.”

  “It will get easier with time and practice.”

  Shaking her head, Claire lifted her wine glass. “I don’t know if I’m picking up on people’s feelings when I’m talking with them or if I’m making judgments about them based on what they say to me. I don’t know if my ability is working on not. Nothing is clear-cut.”

  “Your ability is always with you.”

  Claire made a face. “Then why did it kick in only when I moved here to Boston?”

  “You’ve always had strong perception. You’ve told me of many experiences you had as a young girl and a young woman. Before moving here, you’d lost your husband, you’d sold your homes, you left your job. That’s quite a lot of emotional upheaval for someone to bear. Your senses were raw and you were in a vulnerable state which can release the powers someone has. All your life you were probably dismissing or ignoring your feelings. When you arrived in Boston, your mindset wasn’t able to hold them back any longer.”