Good Fortunes (A Claire Rollins Mystery Book 1)

by J A Whiting

  “I felt calm.”

  For a moment, Nicole looked confused and then an expression of relief washed over her. “Okay. That’s good. You didn’t feel anything bad? Nothing worried you?”

  “Nothing.” Claire shook her head, but then her eyes clouded and her shoulders slouched. “I should have warned Merritt.”

  “I know that sounds like it would have been a good idea, but what would you have said to her? By the way, I got this terrible feeling when we shook hands?” Nicole narrowed her eyes. “Merritt would have thought that you were crazy. She wouldn’t have taken it seriously.”

  Claire glanced over to the opposite sidewalk. “I should have called Detective Fuller. I….”

  “Right.” Nicole shook her head. “That would have been even worse. He would have had you locked up.” She touched Claire on the arm. “Let’s get out of here.”

  The girls and the dogs walked away from the scene and headed in the direction of the Common.

  Thoughts swirled in Claire’s head. “If I get these feelings, what good are they if I don’t use them to help people? How can I just stay quiet? Shouldn’t I do something with them?”

  Nicole didn’t answer right away. “I guess you should. But what … and how?”

  8

  The young women returned to Claire’s apartment in Adamsburg Square to make dinner and talk things over. The two Corgis sat at attention in the kitchen to watch the preparation of a chicken and vegetable stir fry and they wagged their little tails as Claire and Nicole bustled about chopping and cooking.

  “I’m starving.” Nicole scooped the chicken and veggies out of the pan and placed the ingredients over rice on a serving platter. The outside patio table was set with blue and white plates, napkins, and silverware. “It’s good we made a dish that was quick to prepare.”

  Claire carried two glass mugs and two bottles of craft beer to the table and lit the jar candles. When the girls sat down at the table and began to gobble their meals, Bear and Lady hurried into the rear garden and sniffed around the fence that enclosed the small yard. Claire called to the dogs. “Come away from there.” She glanced at Nicole. “There are two loose boards on the fence that I need to get fixed. Those two know they aren’t supposed to push on the slats, but they’re always sniffing around them.”

  The girls ate in silence for a few minutes until Claire said, “Who knew worrying about getting shot would increase our appetites.” She sipped from her mug. “I was just thinking about sending a text to Merritt saying we both heard what happened today and hoped she was doing okay.”

  Nicole swallowed the last bite of rice from her plate. “Merritt said she wanted us to keep in touch with each other so I think it would be a thoughtful thing to do.”

  Claire went inside to retrieve her phone and sent off the message. Tapping at the screen, she said, “I’m going to see what the latest news is reporting about the incident at the Jasper Building.”

  The leaves in the Maple tree rustled in a soft breeze and shadows started to stretch across the yard as lights twinkled on in the windows of surrounding brownstones.

  “It’s such a lovely evening.” Nicole sighed. “Too bad we can’t just enjoy it.”

  Reading from the online news, Claire reported, “The woman who was shot today is in serious condition, but she is still alive. Her identity is being withheld pending notification of her family. This article reports the incident to be the second random shooting in the city in two days.” Claire fiddled with one of her long curls. “They weren’t random. Are they just saying that to throw off the shooter?”

  “Most likely. They don’t want to alert the guy that they have an idea who the target really is. Knowing who the target is might help figure out who the shooter is. I bet the police are deliberately withholding information.”

  “Hopefully, the authorities can figure out who might bear Merritt a grudge and then arrest the guy.” Claire continued to read the news accounts. “The articles all say the same thing. Not one of them mentions Merritt by name.” Placing her phone down on the table, Claire said, “Merritt had the idea that something she’d done in her job might have triggered the shooting. Someone might be trying to get back at her for some case she worked on.”

  “It would be really helpful if someone saw the shooter and could give a description.”

  Claire rested her chin in her hand. “What could make someone want to kill Merritt?” Looking across the small yard to the two dogs dozing in the grass, Claire felt a twinge of regret for the ease and safety of the life she’d had with Teddy, but quickly dismissed the feeling.

  Growing up in North Carolina, Claire and her mother hardly ever felt any peace, with her mom working multiple jobs and Claire often alone until late in the evening. Money was either tight or nearly non-existent. The two were happy together though, sewing, cooking, baking, reading, making their tiny apartment pretty with some wildflowers they’d picked on the hill behind the town park and carefully placed in a tall drinking glass and set on the middle of their small wooden table. Claire’s mom talked endlessly about the importance of education and Claire rose to the challenge and excelled in school, determined to free her mother from the crushing and never-ending fear of becoming homeless.

  Bear lifted his head from his paws and Claire smiled. She was financially secure, she was healthy, she had a lovely apartment in a wonderful city, and she had a true friend, something she’d neglected in the past, never having time to get to know or go out with peers since she was always working, working, working to pull herself and her mother out of the pit of poverty.

  Bear jumped to his feet and let out a low growl as he stared from his spot on the grass through the glass patio doors into the house. Lady woke from her nap and leapt up, standing close to Bear, following his gaze.

  Nicole sat up straight as Claire pushed herself up from the table, a worried look on her face, her head turning from the dogs to the interior of the house. A moment later, her front door bell rang.

  “Who could this be?” Nicole’s voice shook as she lifted the dinner knife from beside her plate and held it tightly against her palm.

  Claire, starting for the door, noticed what Nicole had in her hand. “Nic, gee, hide it at least.”

  When Claire pushed the slider open, the dogs rushed inside from the garden and the two young women followed them to the front door.

  “Who is it?” Claire pushed on the intercom button struggling to keep her voice even.

  “It’s me, Merritt.” The tinny words crackled through the intercom’s metal register.

  As Claire turned the bolt, she shared a wide-eyed look with Nicole.

  Merritt stood under the lights on the granite front landing wearing jeans and a light sweater, her dark hair held back in a long braid. “Can I come in?”

  Claire shook her herself out of her surprise at seeing Merritt at her door. “Yes, please. Come in.”

  When Merritt walked into the hallway, Bear moved back a few steps and growled low in his throat.

  “It’s okay, Bear.” Claire reached down and ran her hand over the dog’s head, telling Merritt, “I just texted you a few minutes ago.”

  Merritt nodded. “I was out for a walk. When I got your text, I decided to make a detour and come here.”

  Nicole had her arms wrapped around herself and the dinner knife was stuffed into the back pocket of her jeans. “How did you know where Claire lives?”

  “I looked her up on the internet.”

  “It tells my address?” Claire’s stomach muscles tightened.

  “I searched the internet for your name. It listed this block of town homes. Your last name is on the mailbox.” Merritt shrugged.

  The group moved into the living room and the women took seats on the sofa and chairs. Bear and Lady sat near the door to the patio keeping watchful eyes on the visitor.

  After some initial silence, Merritt said, “I guess now we know which one of us the shooter was after.”

  Sitting at the edge of her se
at, anxiety shimmied through Claire’s body. “Did you see the guy? Did you see his face?”

  Merritt’s chest heaved with a huge sigh. She looked at the floor. “I was hurrying back to work. When I left your shop, I had to go to the State House. I had a meeting to get to. When it was over, I hurried back to the office. I crossed the sidewalk to the front doors of the building. There was something … something caught my eye and I turned just as I was about to push the door open. I saw a figure. I saw the hand holding the gun. Instinct took over and I lurched inside.” Merritt’s fingers shook as her hand passed over her forehead. She raised her eyes. “I thought it was me. I thought it was my involvement in a case that caused this. Someone is out to get me.”

  “Do you have any idea who might be behind it or what case it’s related to?” Nicole asked.

  “Not really.” Merritt leaned back against the sofa cushion. “Who knows?”

  “The police must be on it.” Claire tried to sound encouraging. “The detectives will figure it out. They must have lots of experience investigating things like this.”

  Merritt raised an eyebrow and one side of her mouth turned down. “I’m sure they’ve investigated many situations like this, but did they ever solve any of them?”

  The thought never occurred to Claire that law enforcement wouldn’t be able to solve a case like this. People swarmed the streets of the city, day and night. How could someone shoot a gun at a woman in front of an office building without someone seeing him do it or someone seeing him flee? How could someone shoot from a car into a crowd without being noticed? Claire’s chest tightened and when she spoke, her voice wasn’t very forceful or convincing. “They must have solved other cases like this. They’ll solve this one.” Claire felt uneasy and uncomfortable.

  “The police and the detectives will go over everything with you.” Nicole leaned forward. “They’ll go over all the cases you’ve been involved with. They’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  Claire offered Merritt something to drink, but she declined. “I’d better get home. When I read your text, I thought I’d come by and let you know I’m okay.”

  “Stay,” Clair urged. “We can talk. Have a drink with us.”

  Merritt stood. “Thanks, but I’m worn out. I need to get home.”

  The three walked to the front door together and when Merritt was outside on the stoop, she turned around, the entryway light shining on her face. “Just in case, you two better stay on your toes. Keep your eyes open. You never know.” Merritt hurried down the granite steps and along the sidewalk into the night.

  Claire shut and locked the door.

  “Why did she say that?” Nicole frowned.

  Claire glanced at the two scowling Corgis sitting a few feet from her. “Do you trust her?” she asked Nicole.

  Nicole’s mouth hung open for a moment. “What? What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I trust her? I don’t know. Do you?”

  Claire’s blue eyes clouded. “I’m not sure. I don’t think I do.”

  9

  The rest of the evening passed with the two young women discussing the situation. Claire couldn’t fully explain to Nicole why she had reservations about trusting Merritt Handley and while she was answering Nicole’s questions about her misgivings, something that had been picking at her took form in her brain. Shifting on the sofa to face Nicole, she leaned forward. “If you had been shot at today and you narrowly missed taking the bullet and you realized that you must be the target, would you go out in the dark and take a walk all by yourself just hours after the shooting?”

  Nicole let Claire’s words settle in her mind without responding because she didn’t know what to say.

  Claire told Nicole about her suspicions. “Wouldn’t you be afraid to go out, alone, in the dark? Wouldn’t you call a friend or a family member to stay with you for awhile? Is it wise to go strolling around the city when someone has just taken shots at you twice in less than forty-eight hours?”

  “I wouldn’t go out.” Nicole was adamant about that. “Maybe Merritt doesn’t have anyone in the area that she can call on. Or maybe her friends are away. Maybe she’s angry and wants to prove to herself that the person isn’t going to make her reclusive, that the person isn’t going to take her freedom away.”

  “It seems dumb. She doesn’t strike me as dumb.”

  “So what are you saying?” Nicole asked.

  “I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m just questioning why Merritt would go out. Maybe she has poor judgment.” Claire took a strand of her hair and twisted it between her thumb and index finger. “Isn’t it odd that Merritt was near my house when she got my text? It’s a big city.”

  “You’re scaring me.” Nicole shifted her eyes to the dark windows and glanced over her shoulders. “She might live nearby and that’s why she was in the neighborhood.”

  “Her showing up on my doorstep made me uneasy.” Claire shook her head. “I suppose I’m just feeling suspicious. I’m letting my mind run away with me.”

  With confusion and worry muddling their ideas, the young women called it a night and Nicole left the townhouse to head home, but not before making requests to borrow a big flashlight and the dinner knife that was still in her back pocket. Claire offered her friend the guest room, but Nicole declined wanting nothing more than to fall asleep in her own bed. Nicole chuckled when Claire offered to walk her home. “Then I’ll have to walk you home and then us walking each other back and forth between our apartments will go on all night.”

  A fitful night’s sleep caused Claire to rise bleary-eyed and weary wishing she could go back in time and erase the past two days from ever happening. The new, sudden strength to her intuition was unnerving and unexplainable, and desperate to understand it, Claire planned to ask Nicole for the name and address of the woman with the Tarot cards who had visited the chocolate shop the other day so that she could talk to her about what was happening. The morning was hot and already the air felt moist, heavy, stifling, and oppressive and little beads of sweat had formed on Claire’s skin. She pushed the door open to the Adamsburg Deli and Market, located two blocks from her townhouse at the bottom of the hill, and the two Corgis rushed inside to greet the owner.

  Tony Martinelli, tall and burly with a full head of white hair and tanned skin that gave the impression that he’d worked outside his whole life even though he hadn’t, had owned the corner store for over fifty years. It was a small market and deli that also had a cramped self-service beverage counter tucked into one corner in front of several tables and chairs. Tony bent to pat the dogs and retrieved two dog bones from a basket near the cash register. Bear and Lady sat at attention with their two tails wagging back and forth, their eyes glued to the treats in Tony’s hands. Tony put the bones on the floor in front of the animals and when he winked, the two leaned down and gobbled them up. “Where’ve you been?” He looked across at Claire.

  Claire took the dogs and made a trip down the hill to the deli every morning before she went to work at the chocolate shop to get a cup of coffee and one of Tony’s homemade granola bars. There was something about the man’s coffee that no one else could replicate. Claire smiled. “We only missed yesterday morning.”

  “I notice when my two favorite dogs don’t come in.” Tony bustled behind the counter.

  Claire frowned. “What about when I don’t come in?”

  Tony teased. “Oh, you weren’t here yesterday? I didn’t notice.”

  Claire smiled and shook her head as she poured a cup of coffee from the carafe on the counter. “Where is everyone?” Every day, there was a steady stream of regulars who stopped in on the way to work or to shoot the breeze.

  “You’re early. You beat the others by a half hour.”

  Claire carried her cup to the side of the counter where Tony was stocking some shelves. “I couldn’t sleep so I got up.”

  “Worried about something?” Tony eyed the pretty blond.

  Claire shrugged. She and Tony had gotten to know each other over the past
year, each one feeling a strong connection to the other. They’d shared stories about the past, talked about family, work, things that were important to them. Besides her mother, Claire had never really opened up to anyone the way she did with Tony, not even with Teddy. Tony felt like a kindred soul, almost like family.

  “You heard about those shootings?” Tony emptied a case of candy and broke down the cardboard container with his big hands. “You be careful, Blondie. Stay aware of your surroundings.”

  Claire sighed and told him about being at the first shooting and what she knew about the two events. While she gave him the details of the story, Tony stood in front of her with the cardboard in his hands just staring at Claire, his eyes wide. “What’s gone wrong in the world? What’s wrong with people?”

  “There have always been people like this.” Claire took a swallow from her cup.

  “I wonder. Things seemed safer years ago. We didn’t even lock our doors in the neighborhood.” Tony had grown up in Boston’s North End with four brothers and his parents sharing a small apartment. Claire had heard stories of neighborhood parties, delicious Italian food, kids playing outside with other kids, being poor, tight-knit families and friends, silly teenage brawls, and neighbors helping and relying on each other. Claire could relate to the being poor part, but the rest of Tony’s growing-up years sounded like Heaven to her.

  The corners of Claire’s lips turned down. “Well, we need to lock them now.”

  “Keep these dogs near you. Don’t walk around alone. You call me if you need me.” Tony’s brown eyes were serious. “Get some pepper spray.”

  “I’m not the target.”

  “Get some anyway.”

  Claire smiled inwardly at how pepper spray wouldn’t be much help when facing a gun, but Tony’s kind, concerned words and his worried eyes warmed her heart and she told him that she already had some and carried it at night and whenever she went out exercising.

  The door opened and in walked Augustus Gunther, a slim, bent but spry older man with light blue eyes and thin silver-gray hair. He was dressed in trousers, a suit jacket, and a necktie. Claire always marveled how the man could be so dressed up even on the hottest days and never seemed to break a sweat. Augustus, ninety-one years old, was a former state supreme court judge and lived in a beautiful townhouse on Beacon Hill. He nodded to Tony and Claire and gave the Corgis a smile and a pat on their heads. “Good morning.”