by J A Whiting
Heavy footsteps moved around the apartment.
“Michael!” the woman shrieked. “No!”
“You aren’t going to tell the police,” Michael’s voice boomed. “I won’t let you ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for.”
“Don’t. Don’t do this….” The woman’s tone was one of desperation.
Sucking in a long breath, Claire raised her fist and pounded on the door.
Silence in the apartment.
“Who’s there?” Michael demanded.
“Open this door.” Claire deepened her voice to sound authoritative and pounded again. Nothing happened. “Michael Burton, open this door!”
The door flew open. Michael stood before her, looking crazed and disheveled. Rose Smith stood meekly to the side, tears glistening on her cheeks. Confusion washed over the man’s face as he struggled to decide if Claire could possibly be a member of law enforcement.
Claire said the first thing that came into her head. “Michael Burton, the police have a warrant for your arrest.”
Rose hurried to Claire’s side, her face pale, her shoulders hunched.
“Step back,” Claire roared at the man. She hoped her command would cause Michael to move further into the apartment so that she and Rose could make their escape down the stairs.
Michael stood his ground, glaring at Claire, his arm held slightly behind his back.
“He has a gun,” Rose whispered to Claire.
Michael made a decision. He brought his arm around and pointed the gun at Claire and Rose. “Where’s your badge, Claire?”
Claire stepped in front of Rose as she told Michael, “Rose and I are going to leave and you’re going to stay in your apartment.”
“No.” Michael’s face hardened. “You’re not. Shut the door.”
When Claire didn’t move, Michael pointed at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. With a blast, a bullet drove through the plaster into the upper floor.
Michael began to pant. “Shut the door or the next bullet will go through Rose’s heart.”
Claire kicked the door shut with her foot and stayed positioned in front of Rose.
“What are you doing, Michael?” Claire asked him. “You’re only making it worse for yourself.”
His breathing was fast and shallow and the man looked like a wild animal ready to pounce.
“I know what you’ve done.” Claire tried to make her voice sound calm. “The police know what you’ve done,” she fibbed. “They’ll be here soon with an arrest warrant.”
“How do you know that?” Spit flew out of the man’s mouth. “Why did you come here?”
Claire’s mind raced. How was she going to get out of this? How would she get Rose out of this? An idea took form. She would try to frighten Michael by telling him the truth.
“You want to know why I came here?” She swallowed hard. “I came because I knew something was wrong in this apartment. I came because I know what you did. I can feel it, Michael. It’s all floating on the air.”
Claire took a step forward. “I have an unusual skill. I can sense things, my instinct is strong.” Knowing this was either going to work or it was going to be the end of her, Claire kept talking. “I know that Ashley was pregnant. I know you didn’t want her or the baby. I know that you’re attracted to Rose. I know that you wanted an open relationship so you could try to be with Rose.”
She took another step forward. “I’m a psychic, Michael. Yes. I work with the police. Your secrets are out.” Claire’s voice grew louder. “I know that you manipulated Ashley so that she would put you in her will because of the baby. I know there was life insurance ... and you wanted it.”
Michael’s face paled. He looked at Claire like she was a demon.
“I know you manipulated Rose so that she would trust you,” Claire went on winging her accusations and hoping her ideas were correct. “You made the whole terrible murder seem like mistaken identity. You frightened Rose into thinking that someone was stealing from her, you hired someone to kill Ashley to get rid of her and the baby, and by planting the seed that Ashley was killed by mistaken identity, you made Rose believe she was the intended victim. I’ll even guess that you made Rose believe her husband and Melvin Watts were working together to steal her money and were planning to kill her.”
Michael started to shake. As he ran his hand through his hair, his wild eyes darted around the room, but he still held the gun and pointed it at Claire.
“Put the gun down, Michael. Don’t make it worse for yourself. The police will be here any minute.” Claire wished the last sentence was true. “Just place it on the floor and step back.”
The expression on the man’s face made it seem that he didn’t understand a word Claire was saying.
“I’m going to ask Rose to leave now. I’ll stay with you.” Claire watched the man and then she touched Rose gently on the arm to move her towards the door. She turned her head a little and whispered, “Call the police.”
While Rose took hold of the door handle and turned it, Claire used a soothing voice, “Rose is going to leave. It’s going to be okay. I’ll stay with you until the police come. That way, they won’t hurt you, Michael. I’ll walk out with you when they come.”
Rose stepped out into the hallway and Claire spoke again to distract the man from focusing on the woman’s exit. “Michael, why don’t we both sit down. I’m going to sit down on the floor. Everything will be okay.”
Claire slipped down to seated position on the wood floor. “Sit with me, Michael.”
Beads of sweat ran down the sides of Michael’s face. His cheeks had changed from pale to bright red. He muttered words that Claire couldn’t understand.
Claire’s hands were freezing, her head buzzed, her ears rang. Everything seemed to slow. Endless minutes ticked by. She just wanted it to be over. Don’t shoot me, don’t shoot me.
Michael was still standing, his arm hung down loosely at his side and the hand holding the gun twitched as if it was being shocked. Taking a small step, his legs almost went out from under him. His eyes flashed around the near-empty room at the one chair and the one remaining table.
Michael wobbled and headed for the bedroom, stumbling out of the living room. Claire watched him go and then pushed herself up off the floor. She listened.
She backed up inching to the door.
Time seemed frozen as she moved so slowly, sliding her feet backwards into the hall, keeping her eyes glued towards the bedroom. She heard footsteps on the staircase and in ten seconds, two Boston police officers were at her side. Relief flooded through her body making her feel weak.
“He’s in the bedroom,” Claire told them quietly. “He has a gun.”
Just as the officers advanced into the apartment with their weapons drawn, a horrible blast sounded in the bedroom. The terrible noise rocked the walls and sent a wave of disbelief and dread smashing into Claire.
She covered her mouth and whirled towards the staircase just as someone rushed up the stairs, took hold of the shaken young woman, and with his strong arms wrapped tight around her, pulled her close.
Ian.
Claire rested her cheek against his chest, gripped him like a drowning woman, and began to weep.
25
Ian manned the grill in the small backyard of Claire’s townhouse while Tessa, Tony, and Augustus sat at the table sipping their drinks under the twinkling lights on the big tree’s branches. The Corgis sat one on each side of Tony’s chair and he had both arms hanging down to pet the dogs’ heads.
Bear and Lady had their noses pointed up inhaling the delicious smell of the kebobs, skewers of vegetables, and hamburgers and hot dogs cooking over the charcoal. The early evening air was warm and pleasant and the first distant stars sparkled against the navy blue sky.
Robby and Nicole worked in the kitchen recreating the co-winning dessert from the food festival and Claire carried out a plate of appetizers. Before setting it on the table, she offered some to Ian who selected a stuffed mushroom and popped it into
his mouth. When his eyes met Claire’s, little sparks jumped between them.
Nicole and Robby emerged from the house to join the others on the patio.
“The desserts are in the fridge,” Nicole announced. “They’ll be ready when we finish dinner.”
“They came out great, too.” Robby grinned and shoved the remaining part of the custard he’d stolen from the platter into his mouth.
They took seats at the table with their friends and joined in the discussion about the case.
As his world crumbled around him, Michael Burton took his own life. He had indeed hired a hit man to kill his girlfriend, Ashley Smith, with the assumption being that the man couldn’t handle the responsibilities of a committed relationship or of being a father. He had become fixated on and obsessed with Rose Smith and was determined to have her as his love.
Ashley, Michael, and Rose had met in their building and had gathered in each other’s apartments for drinks many times. When Rose became concerned about her business’s outflow of money and knowing both Ashley and Michael were in the financial industry, she consulted them about what might be going on.
Even though Michael wasn’t fully experienced in such things, he offered to investigate the boutique’s bookkeeping.
Michael told Rose that her finances looked suspicious and that someone was probably stealing from her suggesting the culprit could be Mel Watts. He even planted the idea that Rose’s ex-husband was in on it.
As it turned out, Mel was siphoning off money from Rose’s business and directing it to his own accounts. Although her husband had spoken to Rose suggesting she allow Mel to work with her for a period of time, Ricky was not involved in the financial deception and had himself wondered if Mel was up to something.
When Ashley was killed, Michael told Rose that he feared she was the intended victim and convinced her that Mel and Ricky were most likely behind it. Rose was terrified that Michael was right … she didn’t trust Mel and Ricky always had money crises and could easily be led astray under certain circumstances. She thought Ricky might be involved in stealing from her, but she’d recently heard terrible things about Mel Watts and believed he was acting alone to get rid of her.
She panicked and took off.
Rose returned from hiding when Michael emailed her and said he’d found evidence that Mel Watts was the person who wanted her dead. In actuality, he had no such evidence.
Michael wanted to reveal his love for Rose and had planned that she would accompany him out of the country. When Rose heard what Michael had done, she nearly collapsed in horror.
She told him he needed help and that she had to tell the police that he was responsible for Ashley’s murder. That’s when Claire showed up at the door.
When Ashley learned she was pregnant, she changed her will and took out a life insurance policy naming Michael as the beneficiary hoping her devotion and trust would encourage him to accept the baby and marry her.
Bradford Bilson from the financial firm had contacted Claire in regards to his murdered employee because he’d been informed that Ashley and Michael seemed to be having trouble with their relationship and it had been interfering with their work. An associate had also reported to Bilson that Michael had been acting erratically the day before Ashley was killed.
After hours of tireless investigation, the police considered Michael Burton a serious suspect, but they didn’t have enough evidence against the man to formally charge him.
The investigators also had a person of interest on their radar, the hit man hired by Michael Burton to kill his girlfriend, and would soon be bringing him in for questioning. A few minor details were left to be ironed out, but the hope was that the man would be charged with murder.
“Melvin Watts will now spend some time behind bars for funneling money from Rose’s business accounts to his own off-shore accounts,” Augustus said. “The man has been suspected for years of such misdeeds, and for far worse things than embezzlement, but he has always managed to keep the allegations from sticking to him.” The older man’s eyes sparkled. “This time, Mr. Watts was unable to outrun his villainy.”
“It baffles me how people like Mel Watts and Michael Burton exist,” Tony grumped. “How can people do such evil things to each other?”
“They are troubled men,” Tessa said sadly, “who unfortunately wreaked havoc and misfortune on many lives.”
Nicole smiled at Claire and, referring to the phone that dropped into the sewer the night her friend went to Michael Burton’s apartment, she said, “From now on, Claire needs to keep two phones with her at all times.”
Claire shook her head making her long curls bounce around her face. “I replaced the phone. I didn’t think about getting two of them.”
“You did a remarkable job, Blondie.” Tony gave her a warm smile. “You saved Rose … and yourself. Thank heavens. But you shouldn’t have gone into that apartment alone.”
Claire exchanged a look with Tessa. She couldn’t tell the man about her intuition and why she’d been so compelled to go up to Michael’s place that night so all she said was, “You’re right. I shouldn’t have.”
“You sure convinced Burton that you were a psychic.” Robby winked at the woman he called Clairvoyant Claire.
Claire glared at him, not wanting that piece of information to get any attention.
Ian brought a dish of shish-kebobs to the table and gave Claire a look. “You also convinced Rose you were a psychic.”
Giving a nervous chuckle, Claire made up a tale to cover for what she’d told Michael Burton. “I was desperate and grasping at straws. I’d read an article that morning about a psychic and it popped into my mind when I was talking to Michael. I couldn’t think of anything else that might throw him off so I told him I had paranormal powers.”
“Well, nicely done.” Ian held the pretty blonde’s eyes which made her heart skip a beat.
Everyone squished around the table and dug into the food enjoying the delicious meal and conversation. The Corgis received plates of meat and veggies and they gobbled up the dinner with gusto.
When the table was cleared and the dishwasher loaded, Nicole removed the tray of chocolate swirl custards and placed the Florentine cookies into the tops. Claire set the table with small white dessert plates and silver forks and spoons.
“The winning desserts,” Tony’s voice boomed announcing the arrival of the sweet part of the meal.
When Tessa scooped a spoonful of the custard into her mouth, she closed her eyes and moaned. “No wonder you won first prize.”
“The Florentine cookie is just like my grandmother made for me when I was a little boy,” Augustus told the group. He nodded. “Thank you to the bakers for bringing back lovely thoughts of my childhood.”
Robby ate two of the desserts and was going for a third when Nicole bopped him. “Wait and see if someone else would like a second one,” she scolded.
“Let the young man have it.” Tony patted the little bit of a stomach that showed under his shirt. “I must keep my trim figure.”
“I don’t need to be encouraged a second time.” Robby helped himself to his third dessert.
When everyone was satisfied and full, Ian asked to see the medal awarded at the festival and Claire went inside to retrieve it. “I finally went to see Ricky Harris to pick them up.” The huge gold medal was passed from person to person and each one oohed and aahed over it.
“This is only the beginning,” Tony said. “I see more accolades in the future.”
“A writer for a Boston magazine got in touch with me. He wants to interview me and Claire and Robby.” Nicole beamed. “More advertising for the chocolate shop.”
“Is the writer interviewing the co-first-place winners, too?” Ian asked.
“No. He said because the other winners had received the first place award for the past few years, he wanted to focus on the up and comers.” Nicole seemed to deflate a little. “I ran into the owners of the other bakery that took the other first place award.
I saw them in the Back Bay and went over to talk. They got up abruptly and wouldn’t speak to me other than saying hello. They actually glared at me. They gave me the creeps.”
“I guess they don’t like sharing the first place position,” Augustus noted. “They must feel you have knocked them from their pedestal.”
“It was weird.” Nicole sipped from her tea cup. “I hope I never run into them again.”
“They must be very dissatisfied people with huge egos who are only happy when they are considered the best,” Tessa suggested. “Ignore them. You’re surrounded by loving friends.”
After another two hours of chat, Claire and the Corgis walked the guests to the door wishing everyone a goodnight.
Nicole hugged her friend tight. “You aren’t allowed to solve a case without me ever again. I’m your back-up, remember? From now on, you are not authorized to make a move on a case without me.”
Claire chuckled and promised she would follow Nicole’s rules whenever working on a mystery.
“Don’t ever go into a building alone again, Blondie.” Tony hugged her so tightly she lost her breath for a moment. “Got that? I don’t want to lose you.”
Ian was the last one in the line out the door. He paused. “Are you going to walk the dogs before you turn in?”
“I could. Would you like to go along?”
Ian smiled broadly. “You must be psychic. How else would you know I was angling for a walk?” he kidded.
Claire got the leashes while the Corgis danced around eager to go outside for the walk. Ian held Bear’s lead and Claire took Lady’s and the four strolled the neighborhood streets under the lamplights.
“We need to step up our training,” Ian said. “We’ve been slacking lately.”
“Ever the exercise tyrant.” Claire laughed. “It’s okay to take a break, you know.”
“Well, if we take a break then I don’t get to see you.”
A rush of warmth bubbled through Claire’s veins. She looked at Ian out of the corner of her eye. “Just so you know, I am willing to do other things with you besides run, bike, and swim.”