by J A Whiting
Claire put her chin in her hand. “I don’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.”
Tessa smiled. “You’ll come to think of it as a good thing. Your powers are strong. You’ll learn to handle them, and you’ll use them as a force for good.”
When the meal was over, it was already dark as they walked to the North End and to Grace’s former building.
Claire gestured to the first floor windows. “Grace’s bedroom was there at the back corner.”
Glancing around, they moved along the walkway to the green space at the rear. It was too dark to be able to see the bullet hole in the siding, but Claire explained where it was and how it lodged in the opposite wall of the bedroom. “Someone pushed Grace’s dresser along the wall in order to hide the spot where the bullet entered the room.”
Tessa moved back and forth in order to better see both windows of Grace’s bedroom, and then she looked around the sitting space behind the building.
“Did Ian tell you where the shooter was standing?” Tessa asked.
Claire nodded and led her friend to the place where the gunman must have been aiming from. Tessa stood in the spot and looked back to Grace’s windows. She closed her eyes and was quiet for a full minute.
When she opened them, she took Claire’s hand. “Open your mind to the currents around this place. Focus less on the suspects and the aspects of the crime. Pay more attention to what Grace must have been feeling.”
Claire tried to steady her racing heart, but her nerves were firing wildly as adrenaline coursed through her body. She pushed her thoughts to Grace. She recalled the many photographs she’d seen of the young woman.
Suddenly, a whoosh of something seemed to hit her in the chest and she stumbled backwards while Tessa held her hand and kept her from falling onto her butt.
“Oh.” Claire’s hand flew to her forehead. “There was a flash of light in my head.”
Tessa watched Claire’s face under the glow of the streetlamps that lined the back walkway. “Did you feel something?”
“I … I felt fear, and panic. I thought I heard a loud noise, but I know I really didn’t.”
“What did the noise sound like?”
Claire held her breath for a moment. “Like an old car backfiring. Like fireworks. Like … a gun going off.”
“What do you feel from standing in this spot?”
Claire looked down at the grass and the sensations bubbled up and pummeled her. “I feel rage.”
“I feel the same things.” Tessa nodded. “I also sense lies and jealousy and confusion. I think Grace was alive when she was taken from the building.”
Claire stared into Tessa’s eyes.
“But I don’t think she was conscious.” The woman’s shoulders slumped.
“So the killer must have been in Grace’s apartment,” Claire said. “Somehow he got inside the building and then made his way to Grace’s door. She must have let him in. She must have known him.” She whirled around and pinned her eyes on the building. “Wait. Was it a him or a her? Did you pick up on the killer’s energy? Could you tell if the attacker was male or female?”
“I couldn’t tell. But for now, I wouldn’t rule anything out.”
A cool breeze came off the water and made the women shiver.
“Shall we head back?” Claire asked.
“Let’s stand at the front door for a minute, shall we?”
Claire was uncomfortable standing on the landing at the front of Grace’s building, worried that Jenny might show up or see them out there and she voiced her concern to Tessa.
“We won’t be long.” Tessa looked at the row of buttons next to the tenants’ names. When she found Grace’s listing, she let her finger hover over the button without pressing it. She stepped back. “I believe the killer was able to enter the building because someone came by and went inside with a key. That person must have held the door open for whomever came for Grace.”
“How can you tell that?” Claire’s eyes were full of wonder.
“It’s all just snippets of feelings, snatches of images bouncing in my head.” Tessa wore a serious expression. “Don’t take this as gospel. Don’t take this as facts. Just be aware of possibilities.”
“I will.” Claire nodded.
“I’d like us to go to the Granary together, but not tonight. I’m worn out. I need to be fresh when we go there,” Tessa said.
Claire was happy not to have to go to the burial ground. She felt exhausted and frazzled and wanted to go home and sit on the sofa with her sweet dogs beside her. She needed them to beat back the murderous sensations of Grace losing her life. She needed to feel safe and surrounded by the affection of her loyal companions.
Claire wouldn’t allow the terrible darkness the killer left behind to smother her.
16
On the way to meet Jenny Harrington in her apartment, Ian told Claire that security cameras in the area where Robby saw Jenny fall confirmed it was her. “The cameras showed her for a few blocks. There weren’t any cameras for about a quarter of a mile and we lost her.”
“So she really was back in town that night.” Claire wore a frown on her face. “I really don’t like being lied to.”
“We’ll be hearing an explanation from her in a few minutes. It will be interesting to hear what she has to say.”
“She’ll make something up. Jenny seems pretty adept at coming up with stuff on the fly,” Claire grumped. “Even if there’s a personal reason why she came back, why wouldn’t she be up front with us about it. Her friend was murdered for Pete’s sake.”
“She isn’t thinking. She isn’t a member of law enforcement so she wouldn’t think her lie might impact the investigation,” Ian told his girlfriend.
“I’m not in law enforcement either, but somehow I have the presence of mind to realize not telling the truth could impede a murder investigation.”
Ian smiled. “You hang around with me so you do have a connection to law enforcement.”
“It should be common sense,” Claire said. “I don’t like this woman. She strikes me as selfish and not very sensitive to Grace’s death.”
“Remember what Tessa told you,” Ian said. “You can’t go into the interview with preconceived notions. That will mess up what you’re able to pick up from the person.”
Claire sighed. “I don’t know how I can remove my impressions about Jenny from my mind. I’m biased. I’m influenced.” With a groan, she added, “I’m a terrible psychic.”
Ian couldn’t contain a chuckle. “That’s probably not something to say too loudly.”
“The terrible part or the psychic part?”
“Either. Both.” Ian laughed.
When they arrived at her door, Jenny didn’t look very happy to see them.
“I don’t have a lot of time. I hope we can make this quick.” Jenny was dressed in a fitted black skirt, black and white checked blouse, and a red jacket.
“We’ll try,” Ian said agreeably as they took seats.
Claire tried to make small talk, but Jenny shut her down. “I’m not thrilled to be talking about Grace again. I thought we went over everything there was to go over last time you were here.”
“Something new has come to light.” Ian kept his voice non-accusatory.
A shadow of worry passed over the woman’s face and was gone in an instant. “What is it?”
“It’s been reported that you were seen in Boston on the night of Grace’s murder.”
Jenny looked like she’d almost swallowed her tongue. “What? Who told you that?”
“It doesn’t matter who reported seeing you,” Ian said evenly. “You were observed on several security tapes taken from Downtown Crossing that night.”
Jenny’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Her eyes darted around the room as she thought of something to say.
“Were you in Boston that night?” Ian questioned.
Claire was breathing deeply and slowly trying to focus on Jenny in that moment without
any preconceived ideas getting in the way.
Jenny fidgeted on the sofa and took several moments to reply. “Yes.” The word came out quick and soft.
“You told us previously that you were in New Hampshire that night,” Ian pointed out.
“I was in New Hampshire that night,” Jenny blurted.
Ian was about to say something when Jenny cut him off. “I had to come back to town for a little while.” The young woman held up her hand. “I know what your next question is going to be. You’re going to ask why I came back. I don’t want to tell you the reason, but it has nothing to do with Grace’s death.”
Ian gave a nod. “Although, we understand there might be reasons why you wouldn’t want to discuss why you came back to Boston, we’re running an investigation into the brutal murder of your friend and all information is important.”
“It has nothing to do with Grace.” Jenny’s voice was loud and firm. “Everything I do doesn’t have to do with Grace.” She shook her head with an angry expression on her face. “It’s always about Grace, isn’t it?”
“How do you mean?” Ian wanted to get Jenny talking.
Jenny waved her hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter.”
“About what time was it when you left New Hampshire?” Claire asked.
Jenny’s eyes blazed when she turned to look at the blond woman sitting across from her. “I don’t know what time it was.”
“What time was it when you returned to New Hampshire?” Ian asked. “You did return that night?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Around what time?”
Jenny blew out some air. “I got back around midnight, maybe 12:30am.”
“Your phone pinged from the New Hampshire location all night,” Ian pointed out.
“I forgot my phone in the hotel room.”
“Can you give me a rough estimate of when it was you left New Hampshire to return to the city?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“Well, what if you thought about it this way,” Ian said helpfully. “What time was it when you arrived in Boston?”
Jenny pushed her hair back from her face. “Around 9pm.”
“Did you come by train?”
“I came by car.”
“You drove yourself?” Ian asked.
“I took an Uber.”
“If we check with the company, will they be able to confirm that?”
“Of course. Unless they lost the records,” Jenny added sarcastically. “I paid with a credit card. There’s a record of credit payments. You can look it up.”
“And you took an Uber back to New Hampshire?”
“Yes.”
“What town where you staying in that night?” Ian questioned.
“Portsmouth.”
“And the name of the hotel?”
Jenny told him the name.
“What was your boyfriend doing when you took the trip back to Boston?”
“He was in a business meeting. He was offered an opportunity to open an office in New Hampshire with another dentist. That’s part of the reason we went there for a few days. Martin had some consulting meetings to attend. The rest of the time we had to ourselves for sightseeing.”
“Does your boyfriend know you went back to Boston?” Claire asked.
Jenny’s blue eyes darkened. “Why don’t you ask him?”
“Are you still seeing Dr. Gray?” Ian asked.
“Yes, I’m still seeing him.”
“And you both met back at the hotel after his meeting and your short trip to town?”
“We did.”
“Who arrived first?”
Jenny’s lips tightened. “I did.”
“Do you think Martin knows you returned to Boston?”
“He knows I went out. I don’t have to give him an account of everything I do and everywhere I go.”
Claire knew that comment meant Jenny hadn’t told Martin Gray where she was for part of the evening.
Ian asked, “Did Martin’s business meeting run that late?”
Jenny straightened her back. “The group went out for dinner and drinks afterward.”
“Did you stop here at the apartment that night?” Claire asked.
“Of course not. I would have told you if I had,” Jenny’s tone was defiant.
“Did you talk to Grace?” Claire ignored the woman’s irritation. “Did you text with one another?”
“I left my phone back at the hotel. Remember?”
“Did you visit someone when you came back to the city?” Ian asked. “Can someone vouch for you?”
“No, no one can vouch for me. I did what I had to do and left.”
“That statement could be taken in different ways,” Ian warned Jenny.
“Take it any way you want to. I had nothing to do with Grace’s death.”
“Do you own a car?” Claire asked.
“What? I have a car, yeah.”
“Did you take it to New Hampshire?”
“Martin drove his Porsche,” Jenny told them.
“So your car was in Boston while you were away?” Claire asked.
“Yes,” Jenny said with exasperation.
“Where do you park your car?” Ian questioned.
“I park it on Broad Street most of the time. If there isn’t anything available on Broad, then I drive around until I find a spot.”
“Was your car on Broad Street while you were in New Hampshire,” Ian asked.
“Yeah. I think so.” Jenny rubbed at her temple. “Maybe I parked on another street. I don’t remember. It was over a week ago.”
Claire was trying to pick up on the woman’s emotions. Some things she said seemed to be half-truths. Other things sounded like lies. How would they sort through the mess Jenny was laying out for them? Claire wished Tessa was with them. What was Jenny hiding?
Ian cleared his throat. “There’s something we need to bring up. It might be considered a sensitive topic.”
Jenny eyed the detective.
“How is your relationship with Martin?”
Jenny’s face hardened. “It’s fine. Why is that any of your concern?”
“We’ve heard that Martin may have had an interest in Grace.”
The young woman’s cheeks flushed red. “Who told you that?”
“Several people.”
Keeping her voice even, Jenny replied. “Martin is a very friendly person. He’s gregarious, outgoing. He puts his arm around people, both men and women. Some people take his attention the wrong way. They misinterpret Martin’s intentions. Martin did not have an interest in Grace except as a friend.”
“What about text messages?” Claire asked.
“What about them?”
“I understand that someone can be friendly and chummy, but when a man sends a woman text messages inviting her to get-together and those messages upset the woman, well, I might take that as inappropriate interest,” Claire explained.
Jenny leaned forward. “I’ll tell you what inappropriate interest is. It’s when your good friend flirts with your boyfriend. It’s when your good friend dumps her long-time boyfriend because she’s interested in the man you’re dating. It’s when your best friend tries to steal the guy you like. That’s what inappropriate interest is.”
Her chest visibly rising and falling with anger, Jenny stood up. “I need to go to a meeting. I’ll show you out.”
17
Tony’s deli was quiet for the moment and he, Augustus, Claire, and Nicole sat together at two cafes tables pushed together going over the publishing house’s contract for the cookbooks. Claire’s friend, an intellectual property attorney, had gone over it with the two bakers and made a few changes which she said the acquisitions editor should be more than okay with. Claire and Nicole wanted Tony’s and Augustus’s opinions before they went any further.
“It makes me nervous,” Nicole said. “What if we’re making a mistake?”
“What sort of mistake do you mean?” Augustus sat strai
ght looking kindly at the young woman next to him. He had a silver pen in his hand he was using to make notes in the margin of a copy of the contract.
“I don’t even know. Are we biting off more than we can chew? Will doing the cookbooks change our lives in a way we don’t want them to change?”
“Are you afraid we’ll get so busy we won’t have time for things that are important to us?” Claire asked.
Nicole gave a quick nod and asked in small voice, “What if we get famous? Do we want that?”
Claire explained to the men that the editor believed that a television producer would come calling with an offer for them to do a cooking show.
“How exciting.” Augustus beamed.
Tony’s eyes widened. “Really? You’d be on television?” He looked at Claire. “You’d have your own show, Blondie?”
“It’s a possibility, I guess,” Claire said. “Probably a very farfetched possibility.”
“Our first cookbook is going to be part history of Boston and part recipes,” Nicole told them. “We’re going to write brief descriptions about different landmarks in the city, talk about recipes from Colonial times, and then connect our recipes to them. It’s kind of a fun twist to a traditional cookbook.”
“I can see why a producer would love that idea,” Tony said. “It’s new. Sort of a mix of a travel show and a food show.”
“I feel excited about it when we’re talking, but sometimes, I wake up worried this whole thing is going to propel us somewhere we don’t want to go.” Nicole looked at her friend. “I don’t want outside pressure and work issues to influence our friendship in a negative way.”
Claire smiled. “We wouldn’t let it. We’d quit before I’d allow the work to jeopardize our relationship. We’re happy now. If we aren’t happy with this new stuff, then we’ll give it up. We need to be sure we always talk about what’s going on. We need to tell each other when we don’t like a direction things are moving.”