by J A Whiting
Claire leaned forward. “What seemed familiar about the gunman?”
Siobhan narrowed her eyes and turned her head to Claire. “I don’t know. A combination of his height, his build, the way he moved….” She shook her head. “He was wearing baggy jeans, a baggy shirt. He had a winter cap pulled over his hair. He wore gloves and sunglasses.”
Claire waited.
“Maybe I don’t know him at all.” Siobhan shook her head slowly, her auburn hair moving against the pillow. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling I had.”
“I think it’s important to listen to intuition.” Claire held Siobhan’s eyes. “Maybe something about him will come to you. Maybe you’ll remember something that will identify him.”
“I think we should keep in touch.” Siobhan asked Claire to exchange contact information and then she rested her head back and closed her eyes for a moment. Claire was about to say goodbye so that the woman could rest, when a tall man entered the room. He was dressed in an impeccably tailored dark navy suit, white starched shirt, and blue and red tie. His posture was straight and he had an authoritative bearing. His sandy hair was cut close to his head and showed some gray at the temples. He and Claire glanced at each other as Siobhan opened her eyes and saw the visitor. “Oh. Mr. Freeman.”
“How is our favorite paralegal?” A broad smile formed over his face and Claire immediately thought it looked fake.
Siobhan pushed herself up a bit in the bed. “I’m doing well, thanks, Mr. Freeman.”
The man made a show of the huge flowering plant he was carrying and Siobhan thanked him and gestured to the windowsill. “It’s lovely.”
When Freeman walked to the window to place the plant, Siobhan quickly turned her head to Claire and with wide eyes, mouthed the word, “Stay.”
Introductions were made and Alex Freeman sat down in the chair on the other side of the bed looking uncomfortable. “I can only stay a few minutes. Meetings.” Freeman was a partner at the law firm where Siobhan worked. “So sorry this happened to you, my dear. You’ll be as good as new and back to the office before you know it.” He winked. “I don’t know how we’ll manage until you’re back.” The man turned his attention to Claire. “This woman runs the entire firm, you know. The rest of us, well, we aren’t important at all. Siobhan is the one we can’t do without.”
Claire nodded and didn’t know what to say.
“How do you know Siobhan?” Freeman’s tone was almost demanding.
Claire straightened in her seat to full height and looked Freeman in the eye. In her previous career as an attorney, she was used to assumptions and condescension and challenges and that’s what she felt Freeman was giving off so she answered vaguely. “Siobhan and I have some things in common. Those things brought us together.”
Freeman seemed about to ask what the things were that brought them together, but his question was interrupted by Siobhan. “How is Merritt? How is everyone in the office handling what happened?”
Freeman cleared his throat. “It was most unfortunate. People were shaken by it. They all send their hopes that you are on the mend and will soon be back at work.” He nodded and smiled again. Leaning forward, he said, “It’s just terrible. What did the gunman look like?”
The abruptness of the question took Siobhan by surprise. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
“Did you get a look at him?” Freeman’s forehead creased. “Can you describe him?”
Claire watched the interaction with concern. Siobhan’s chin dipped and she didn’t make eye contact with the man while the intensity of Freeman’s stare seemed out of place and inappropriate. Claire wondered, if in his legal work, the man used his penetrating gaze to unsettle whoever he was questioning.
“No.” Siobhan’s voice was meek. “I can’t describe him. It happened too fast. I didn’t get a good look at him.”
Claire raised an eyebrow surprised at the woman’s response. Clearly, Siobhan did not want to share any information about the gunman with her boss.
Freeman continued his interrogation. “Really? Nothing? How was he dressed?”
“I don’t recall. It happened so fast.” Siobhan folded her hands together and placed them on her stomach before closing her eyes.
A nurse came into the room to check Siobhan’s vitals and Claire stood up and looked at Freeman. “I think Siobhan needs to rest.”
The nurse agreed. “Visits should be short until she gets some of her strength back.”
Freeman said, “I need to get back to the office.” Saying a few encouraging words to his employee, the law partner gestured for Claire to exit the room ahead of him.
Claire nodded and wished Siobhan well. She would have to return another time to ask Siobhan the reason why she didn’t reveal any details of the gunman to Freeman. An idea popped into Claire’s head as the nurse closed the door to Siobhan’s room. Claire stopped and turned, extending her hand to Freeman. “It was nice to meet you.”
Freeman took her hand and pumped. “Likewise.” He nodded and strode away down the hall.
Claire watched him go. She didn’t like what she felt when she held his hand.
12
Claire stood in the back room of the chocolate shop absentmindedly folding the sour cream into the mixture thinking about her visit to the hospital yesterday to visit with Siobhan Ellis.
“You look a million miles away.” Nicole bustled to the refrigerator to get a gallon of milk.
“I’m thinking.” Claire looked to the front room of the shop to be sure Robby was busy and waved Nicole over to the counter. She told her friend about Siobhan and the partner from the law firm, Alex Freeman.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going? I would have come along.” Nicole leaned against the counter.
“You had an appointment yesterday afternoon. I wanted to go meet the woman and get a sense of things.” Claire lowered her voice. “Siobhan thinks the gunman seems familiar, but she doesn’t know how or from where she might know him. It might pop into her head one day. What she said about Merritt though complicated things. I thought the trouble might revolve around a case that Merritt had worked on and that could still be the reason that someone is after her, but her behavior in the office and the way she treats the people she works with could be another reason she is being targeted.” Claire’s face clouded. “That lawyer, though, Alex Freeman, something seemed off with him.”
“How so?” Nicole asked.
“He seemed phony, saying how Siobhan ran the whole office, his flattery seemed over the top.”
“He might just be awkward in situations like that,” Nicole offered.
“But….” Claire began.
Robby walked in to pick up some clean plates for the front room shelves. He glanced at Claire and Nicole and realized that their conversation had halted when he entered the room. Eyeing them, he said, “Discussing my handsome good looks?”
“Yes,” Claire told the young man with an even tone of voice.
“Keep it up then.” Robby left the room.
“So this Freeman guy left Siobhan’s room with me,” Claire picked up her story. “I decided to shake his hand to see if I could pick up on anything.”
“Ohh,” Nicole said eagerly and took a step closer to Claire. “Did you …?”
Claire nodded. “I felt something. When I shook with him, I had an overwhelming sense of distrust, bad intentions, like he was up to something, like he was involved in something bad. I wanted to pull my hand away and wash it off.”
Nicole considered what Claire had just reported. “He might not have anything to do with Merritt and the gunman though. He might be crooked or dishonest or involved in some corruption.”
“I know, but I got the distinct feeling that it had something to do with Siobhan or Merritt.”
“What a tangled web.” Nicole shook her head.
Robby stuck his head into the room. “I hate to disturb your important conversation, but am I the only one working here tod
ay? We’ve got a crowd out front.”
Nicole and Claire hurried to the front of the store to wait on customers and, for the next few hours, there was hardly a break in the flurry of people to be served. Claire’s new strawberry cheesecake was a huge hit and sold out before lunchtime. When things slowed, the shop crew cleaned and refilled the bakery cases.
“Whew. I’m going to need to hire more help if things keep going like this. It’s never been busier.” Nicole carried a serving tray of mini eclairs to the refrigerated case.
Claire smiled. “It’s a good problem to have.”
“I’ve been thinking of having you concentrate on the baking and preparation and hiring someone to just take orders and serve. You have a real talent.” Nicole wiped down the counter.
“Whatever works best is fine with me.” Claire noticed two older men sitting by the window and one of them raised his finger and caught her eye. Walking to their table, Claire heard a snippet of their conversation.
“Did you hear the news reports?” The older man who wore glasses asked his companion. “The woman from the Public Garden has been identified. Sixty-two years old. She had some relation to a person who was outside the Jasper Building when that gunman showed up.”
Claire interrupted. “Do you know the woman’s name? The woman from the Public Garden?”
Dark brown eyes looked at Claire through thick glass lenses. “I didn’t catch it.”
“The dead woman had some connection to a person who was outside the Jasper Building when the gunman showed up there?” Claire wanted to be sure she’d heard correctly.
“Yes.” The gray-haired man nodded. “Don’t you find that odd? Do you think the gunman at the Jasper Building killed the woman who was found in the park?”
Claire looked out the shop’s big window, thinking. “I wonder.”
“I bet these things are tied together,” the man opposite the eyeglass wearing man said. “I’d bet the same person is responsible for all this recent trouble.” The man gave a shudder.
Claire wasn’t sure if the same person was involved in the shootings and the murder of the woman in the park, but she felt positive that there was a link between the three events. She just didn’t know what that link could be.
Claire brought Bear and Lady to the Common and while they played and dashed about with the other dogs, she ran around the perimeter of the grassy area several times to log four miles, all the while keeping an eye on the two Corgis. After their outing, the three went home so Claire could shower and then they walked down the hill to Tony’s Deli.
“Yeah, I heard the news,” Tony said while stacking a section of the shelves with cans of tomato paste. “The woman was sixty-something, a hairstylist. She owned a small salon off of Newbury Street. She had a customer the other night and was running late. She called her husband to tell him she was finishing up at the salon and would be leaving in ten minutes. She never arrived home.”
The Corgis sat on each side of Tony supervising the man’s work.
Claire, perched on a step stool, sipped from her cup of tea. “Supposedly, the hairstylist has some connection to someone who was at the Jasper Building at the time of the shooting.”
“I heard that.” Tony broke down the cardboard box that had contained the tomato paste cans. “The news report didn’t say the name of the person though. I bet the cops are keeping that under their hats.”
“What was the hairstylist’s name?” Claire asked.
Tony shrugged. “I don’t recall. I do know they said the name of the salon was Amore.”
“Amore?” Claire sat up straight. “I used to go there when I went to law school in Cambridge ten years ago. Was the woman’s name Alicia?”
Tony rubbed his chin. “Maybe?”
Claire stood up and took her phone from the counter. “The owner of that salon used to be Alicia Fitchburg.” With shaking fingers, Claire tapped at the phone screen trying to find a news article reporting the name of the woman who had been found in the Public Garden. A minute passed and then Claire gasped as her arm dropped to her side, her wide eyes focusing on Tony. With a shaky voice she said, “It’s right here. She’s the one. Alicia Fitchburg. She’s the dead woman.”
“You knew her?” Tony gaped.
“She did my hair for three years while I was going to law school.” Claire sank back onto the step stool. “Why Alicia? Why would someone kill her? What connection could she have to someone who was at the Jasper Building?”
Tony folded his strong arms across his chest. “What was she like? Did you ever get the notion she was into anything she shouldn’t have been?”
“What do you mean?” Claire’s forehead creased.
“Drugs? Did she sell out of the salon?”
“I never saw anything like that.” Claire was adamant. “She wouldn’t do anything like that.”
Tony dipped his chin and leveled his eyes at Claire. “Just because you didn’t see it, doesn’t mean it wasn’t going on. Think back. Did you ever hear or see anything that caught your attention, that seemed out of place?”
Claire’s mouth turned down. She couldn’t believe that Alicia Fitchburg would have been involved in illegal activities. “It was years ago. Nothing like that stood out. Never.”
“Well, something got her killed.” Tony retrieved another box of goods from the store room.
“Maybe she ran into a nut.” Claire scratched Bear’s ears.
Tony raised an eyebrow. “Seems it was the same nut who shot at you and Nicole.”
“Maybe.” Claire’s thoughts twirled round and round like they were tethered to a carousel. “I need to find out how Alicia was connected to the shooting at the Jasper Building.”
“Don’t you go pushing your nose into this.” Tony’s voice was stern. “You got no business sniffing around. I mean it, Blondie. Keep out of it.”
Claire’s voice was soft. “I think I’m already in it.”
13
Claire wore a short-sleeved black dress and had her curly locks pulled up into a soft bun as she walked up the steps to the funeral home with her palms sweaty and her heart pounding. Although she hadn’t seen Alicia Fitchburg for more than ten years, she felt an affinity for the woman who had cut and straightened her hair while she was in law school and she wanted to pay her respects.
Claire enjoyed her visits to Alicia’s salon where she was able to relax for an hour or two away from her studies. Alicia believed in equal rights and opportunity for all people and she and Claire would discuss legal cases and politics and they would weigh in on current and world events while Claire sat in the stylist’s chair. Claire admired the warm, well-informed woman who had managed to put herself through hairdressing school, save enough money to open a salon, and raise four children with her loving husband. She’d saved diligently and was able to pay off the mortgage on their home where the family lived in the first floor apartment and rented out the other two apartments in the building. Alicia believed in living within one’s means, which was lucky for her family because her husband had suffered a heart attack when Claire was in her second year of law school and the man could no longer work in construction leaving the couple dependent on what Alicia made at the salon and their rental income from the apartments.
Claire joined the long line of people who had come to remember the hard-working woman. The line snaked through the rooms of the funeral home and Claire was glad she had come early because she was certain that in a short time, the line would be outside and around the building. Moving from one room to another, Claire got a peek of Alicia’s family standing together greeting the people passing by the closed casket. A short stocky man with gray hair stood uncomfortably shifting from foot to foot and Claire assumed that he was Alicia’s husband. Other family members formed a line next to Mr. Fitchburg including adult children and spouses and youngsters that must have been Alicia’s grandchildren. Many of them dabbed at their eyes with a tissue and one of the young women openly wept.
Anger bubbled up in Cl
aire’s chest as she thought of the person who had robbed years from Alicia’s life and who had stolen her away from the people she loved and who loved her in return. A quiet conversation taking place in front of her caused Claire to focus on what the three people who seemed to be clients of Alicia’s were discussing.
“The cops better find the monster who did this to Alicia,” a woman with short red hair said to her companions.
“She’d been worried about something lately.” A short woman with chin-length silver hair touched at the corners of her eyes to brush away tears. “I asked her several times what was bothering her, but she always told me that nothing was bothering her.”
A platinum blond spoke keeping her voice so soft that Claire had to strain to hear her. “I was in the salon two weeks ago. A young woman came in and when Alicia saw her, her face changed. She almost looked frightened. She scurried over and stood whispering with the woman for a few minutes. They seemed to be arguing. When Alicia came back to me, her face was pale and she wasn’t herself.”
“Did she say what they talked about? Did she say what the argument was about?” the redhead asked.
“No. I tried to make light of it by asking if the woman was angry because of a haircut or something, but Alicia didn’t even hear what I said. It was very odd. Very unlike her.”
Claire leaned forward. “Sorry to interrupt. I was a client of Alicia’s years ago. I
wasn’t eavesdropping, but I overheard your conversation.” Claire turned her attention to the blond. “What did the woman look like who seemed to be arguing with Alicia?”
The blond looked surprised by the question and she seemed to be deciding if she should share the information with Claire. “The woman was attractive, looked to be in her early thirties. She had long dark hair, almost black, that fell just below her shoulders. She was dressed professionally in slacks and a suit jacket.”