A Weapon of Choice

by Jennifer L. Jennings

  “Yes. I’m very sorry about your wife, by the way.”

  He nodded and made a gloomy face. “Thanks. I appreciate that. But I’m not really sure why Candice felt the need to hire you. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure you’re great at your job, but the person responsible is already in jail.”

  “Candice seems to think there might be someone else responsible for your wife’s death.”

  Gregory opened the fridge and pulled out a Miller Lite. “Yep, that’s what she told me, but I think she’s wasting her time.” When he returned to the counter, he sat down and flicked the cap off with his hand. “Believe me, I get it. Candice adored her mother.”

  “Do you mind if I record our conversation,” I said, indicating the cell phone in my hand.

  “Sure, be my guest.” He took a slug of the beer and waited for me to speak again.

  “When was the last time you saw your wife?”

  “Thursday, April second. Mel dropped me off at Logan airport around six that morning. She couldn’t come with me to Saint Martin because she was under a lot of pressure to work on the new book. The deadline was only weeks away and she hadn’t even completed the first draft.”

  “Oh,” I said. “I thought her books were mostly graphic sex manuals for couples.”

  “Her publisher wanted something different this time; an autobiography. It required a lot more writing and Mel almost declined. She didn’t really want to write about her personal life, but the deal was too good to pass up.”

  That perked my interest. “Was she planning to share intimate details of your relationship in the book?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I have no idea. She never discussed what she planned to write about.”

  I thought about Melanie’s abortions and promiscuity. Would she have included those sordid details in her book?

  “How much do you know about Melanie’s past?” I asked.

  He gave me a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you know why she became a sex therapist?”

  “She wanted to help people, I guess.”

  I chuckled at the obviously generic answer. “Any reason she went into that field in particular?”

  He shrugged. “I suppose there is a reason, but she never told me.”

  I had a hard time believing that.

  “How long were you married?” I asked.

  “Sixteen years.”

  I took a moment to consider that my next question might be too bold. “Since Melanie was a sex expert, can I assume you two had a good sex life?”

  He paused for a brief moment. Then he smiled. “In the beginning it was good. As the years went by, not so much.”

  “I apologize,” I said. “Perhaps that was too personal.”

  The smile broadened. “That’s okay. To tell you the truth, Melanie became too involved in her work - never had time for fun anymore.”

  “Were you having an affair?” I asked.

  I expected the question to elicit some kind of emotion, but his face showed nothing.

  “Why does it matter at this point?” he asked.

  “I guess it doesn’t,” I replied. “I’m just curious.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up slightly. “I wasn’t the one who had the affair. I mean, she never admitted it, but I knew.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Who was Melanie sleeping with?”

  “I never found out.”

  “Did you try to find out?”

  “Well, I didn’t spy on her, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Why not get a divorce if you were so unhappy?” I asked.

  He sighed. “Look, Mel and I grew apart years ago. It happens, right? But every time I brought up the subject of divorce, Mel wouldn’t hear of it. She was afraid a divorce would sully her reputation as being a relationship expert and sexual guru. So we had an arrangement. I promised to stay married as long as she let me do what I wanted.”

  “In other words, you were free to date other women?”

  “Right. But I didn’t date other women.”

  So far, I was surprised at how candidly Gregory had answered all my questions. He certainly didn’t strike me as a person who could plot his wife’s murder. But I’d learned my lesson from past experience. People are never what they seem.

  “When did you find out that Melanie was doing marijuana?”

  He shrugged. “Honestly, I had no idea until after she died. I know it sounds hard to believe, but it’s true.”

  “Why did you fall in love with her in the beginning?”

  Gregory leaned back in his chair and gazed up to the ceiling like he was recalling a fond memory. “She was smart and sexy back when we met. Like a hot secretary, you know? She actually had a sense of humor.” He lowered his gaze to look at me. His eyes narrowed. “In the last few years, she became so serious. She worked too much. She couldn’t just relax and take a vacation. We started fighting all the time because she thought I was spending all her money. Well, what good is having money if you can’t enjoy it? She didn’t know how to enjoy herself anymore and it depressed the hell out of me. It was as though she tried to make me feel guilty for wanting to be happy.”

  “Well, it looks like you’ve moved on,” I said. “Are you happy now?”

  He blinked at me, innocently. “What are you talking about?”

  “I noticed a pair of ladies shoes in the entryway. I assume they’re not Melanie’s.”

  He stared at me for a few seconds, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Finally he chuckled. “So what? I have a girlfriend. It’s not a crime, is it?”

  “No, it’s not a crime,” I replied. “Just an observation.”

  Gregory pushed his beer away and sighed impatiently. “Well, I hope I’ve answered all your questions. If you don’t mind, I have things to do.”

  I stopped the recording, slipped my phone into my purse, and offered him a smile. “I really appreciate your time, Mr. Frazier.”

  Gregory escorted me to the door. I could feel his warm hospitality slipping away with each step. “By the way, Ms. Woods, when you see Candice, let her know she still has a bunch of clothes up in her room. I’d like to get them cleared out as soon as possible.”

  “Why don’t you call her yourself?”

  “I’d rather not deal with her directly. We had a big blow-out when she moved out last month.”

  “What caused the blow-out?”

  “Money, of course. She thought she was entitled to some of her mother’s book royalties. I didn’t. Candice is a spoiled princess. She got half a million bucks from the life insurance. What more does she really deserve?”

  Gregory was holding the door open for me, and I got the hint. “Well, thanks again for your time,” I said, passing by him. “Would it be okay to call you, in case I have more questions?”

  I noticed the slightest hint of annoyance in his eyes, but he recovered quickly. He smiled and shook my hand. “Sure, Ms Woods. Go ahead and call me anytime.”

  Chapter 6

  When I got back to my car, I noticed there was a new message on my phone from Brian.

  Hey, mom. Sorry, but I have classes all day so can’t do lunch. I can come home tomorrow night 4 dinner. Let me know, okay? Love you.

  It had been months since I’d seen my son, and I was thrilled at the prospect of spending time with him; although I knew I shouldn’t get my hopes up. He was notorious for cancelling plans. I called him back and left a message on his voicemail.

  Sounds great. I’ll take you out for pizza. See you then. Love you!

  Next, I called Candice.

  She seemed very eager to find out about my talk with Gregory so she suggested we meet for lunch at her favorite place in town.

  Molly’s turned out to be a quaint, self-serve, deli style restaurant. I loaded up a tray of turkey sandwiches, potato salad and cups of fresh fruit. I found a private table near the back and waited for Candice to arrive while nibbling on cantaloupe cubes.

  Ten minutes later sh
e walked into the place and found me. She looked frazzled.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late.” She sat across from me and leaned in, elbows resting on the table.

  “No problem. I was hungry so I got us some lunch. Help yourself.”

  Candice ignored the food and got right down to business. “Did you record the conversation with Gregory?”

  I placed my cell phone on the table. “He says some things about your mom that might upset you. So, just be prepared, okay?”

  She nodded anxiously.

  I started the recording. During the ten minute conversation, Candice listened intently.

  When the recording stopped, Candice stared at me in disbelief.

  “He’s lying. Mom wasn’t screwing around. She would’ve told me.”

  “I know you two were very close,” I said “but maybe she was embarrassed to tell you. Maybe she thought you’d think less of her.”

  Candice shook her head. “You don’t understand. My mom told me everything.”

  “Are you sure?” I said, remembering what Shelly said about the abortions and promiscuity. “If she was having an affair that guy could be another potential suspect. It’s worth looking into.”

  She didn’t seem convinced. “Okay, you can look into it, but what about Gregory?”

  “Oh, I’m not done with Gregory. I’m just getting started with him. However, I could use your help with something.”

  “Of course. What do you need?”

  “What can you tell me about Gregory? His family, friends, where he grew up, stuff like that.”

  “Well, his parents are gone, but he has a brother. His name’s Ryan and I think he lives in Florida now. He hasn’t been around in a while.”

  “Any other siblings?”

  “No. There’s a cousin from his dad’s side named Jake. He’s been in Afghanistan for over a year.”

  “How about friends?”

  “He has some buddies over at the country club he belongs to, but his best friend is a guy he went to college with. His name is Charlie Cox.”

  “Where does he live?”

  “Connecticut. Why?”

  I debated whether or not to tell her about my theory, but decided to go ahead. “If Jasmine didn’t poison the joint, then someone must have shown up at you’re mother’s office after Jasmine left. It wasn’t Gregory because he was out of the country, but he could have had help from a friend or a family member. Someone he trusted but, also, someone your mother knew.”

  Candice nodded slowly. “Okay. So how will you find out?”

  “Well, we’ll have to secure alibis for all of Gregory’s friends and family who were in the area on the night your mom died. I’d also like to go to your mom’s office and have a look around, unless you already cleared the space out.”

  “The landlord said I didn’t have to move her things out until the lease expires at the end of this month. I can give you the key. The woman who leases the space next to her is Amy Chang. She and mom were friends. If she’s around, you should talk to her, too. She was there that night?”

  “She was?”

  “Yeah. When I discovered my mom’s body on the floor, I must have screamed, although I don’t remember doing that. Amy came over to see what happened. She was the one who called 911 as I was doing CPR.”

  “Okay. Carter and I will go there first thing tomorrow morning. Hopefully, we’ll get a chance to talk to Ms. Chang. I’ll be interested to find out if she remembers anyone coming or leaving the office after Jasmine left and, speaking of Jasmine, I’d like to go to the prison and talk to her. Any idea when visiting hours are?”

  “I think it is twelve to three,” she said. “Monday through Saturday.”

  “Thanks Candice,” I said. “I should head home and get started looking through your mom’s laptop. Maybe something interesting will turn up there.”

  Chapter 7

  When I got back to my apartment, I called Carter to see how he made out with his research and I filled him in on my day. I told him about meeting Gregory Frazier.

  “What’s your impression of the guy?” he asked.

  “He was very polite and answered all my questions without hesitation, but he got a little defensive when I asked about his girlfriend.”

  Carter asked, “Did he tell you her name?”

  “No, and I didn’t ask. I don’t want him to think he’s a suspect. If he knows we’re looking into him, he might make things difficult. At any rate, can you do some research on Gregory’s brother, Ryan Frazier, and his best friend, Charlie Cox?”

  “What do you know about them?”

  “They both live out of state. According to Candice, the brother lives in Florida and Charlie lives in Connecticut. It would be nice to know if one of them just happened to be in Cambridge on the night of April third.”

  “I’m on it,” he said.

  “Also, I think we need to talk to Jasmine face to face, to get her version of what happened that night. Want to make a trip tomorrow with me to the Framingham Correctional Facility? Visiting hours start at noon. It takes two hours to get there.”

  “Sure,” he said. “I’ll drive. Pick you up at ten?”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  Chapter 8

  Later that evening, I made myself a sandwich and had a glass of wine for desert. I settled in on the sofa and searched through Melanie’s laptop.

  There was a file called Photos. I clicked on it and found an album with hundreds of photographs, mostly of Candice at different ages. School pictures, prom, high school graduation. Melanie was in a few of the photos, standing beside her daughter. I could tell they were close, just by the way they looked at each other with adoring smiles. Melanie had a youthful essence to her. She was trim and stylish; she’d clearly taken care of herself. I’m sure the money had helped in that department. She could have easily been mistaken for Candice’s older sister.

  I also noticed that Gregory was absent from most of the photos. Perhaps he was always the one taking the shots.

  There were a dozen emails in her inbox, some of which hadn’t been read. There were no e-mails from friends or potential lovers. In fact, there seemed to be no personal e-mails at all mostly solicitations. There were a handful of emails from Greta Stone whom, I surmised, had to be Melanie’s publishing agent. Greta was very concerned that Melanie hadn’t sent the first draft of the new book and, with each subsequent email, her anxiety seemed to increase.

  I wondered about that. Why had Melanie struggled to write her autobiography? What did she plan to write about? Did it have anything to do with her unsavory past?

  The next thing I found rather odd was the fact that all of the files in her Microsoft Word program were missing. Where was the manuscript in progress? Certainly there’d be notes or a rough draft at least. Even if she had saved her work to a hard drive, the files would still be present in the program unless she had deleted them on purpose. I made a note to remind myself to ask Candice about it later.

  Next, I noticed there was a calendar application and, when I clicked on it, the month of April showed up on the screen. Melanie’s schedule. On Friday, April third, there were four entries.

  9:00am C.H.

  12:30pm Libby

  7:00pm Jasmine

  7:30pm Candice.

  As I stared at the entries and scratched my head, I wondered who C.H. and Libby were.

  Since it was only eight o’clock, I called Candice to see if she might know. She answered on the second ring.

  “Sarah?” she asked. “Did you find something?”

  “I was just going through your mother’s laptop and I have a few questions.”

  “Sure,” she said, her voice hesitant. “What are they?”

  “On the day of April third, your mom had a meeting at 9:00 with C H. Do those initials ring a bell to you?”

  A slight pause. “C H? Nothing comes to mind.”

  “How about twelve-thirty with Libby?”

  “That one’s easy. Libby Lenore is my
mom’s massage therapist. She has her own studio in Cambridge. A few blocks from my mom’s office.”

  “Really?” I said. “I used to be a massage therapist before I became a private detective. How often did your mom see her?”

  “She’s been going to mom for years. About twice a month, I think.”

  I made note of that.

  “Okay,” I said, moving along to the next topic. “The other question is about your mother’s work files. I expected to find a draft of the autobiography, but I could not find any files. Did she use a separate computer just for work?”

  “I don’t think so,” Candice said. “I’ve looked all through my mom’s office for a USB storage file, but didn’t find anything like that.”

  “Don’t you think it’s odd that her book files would just disappear?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I guess I just figured I’d come across them at some point.”

  “Well, it’s getting late,” I said. “I won’t keep you. Carter and I are going to visit Jasmine tomorrow so I’ll give you a call after that.”

  “Sure,” Candice said. “Thanks again for doing this, Sarah. You have no idea how much it means to me.”

  “I think I do,” I replied. “I understand what it feels like to lose a mother. My mom died of cancer years ago. She was too young to go.”

  “Were you two close?” she asked.

  “Very close. But I speak from experience when I say; the pain you’re feeling now will fade. You will always miss her but, trust me, time heals all things.”

  “Thanks Sarah,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “I’ll try to remember that.”

  * * *

  Around 9:45, I was getting ready for bed when Carter called back.

  He said, “I got some information on Ryan Frazier and Charlie Cox.”

  “That was fast. What did you find?”

  “Gregory’s younger brother is forty-one, married and he and his wife moved back to Boston from Florida about six months ago.”