Weapon of Choice, A (8 page)

Chapter 16

By 11:15, I was sitting at a Formica table in a small windowless office at the Cambridge Police Department.  Sitting across from me was Detective Donahue; a balding, rotund man in his fifties, who reminded me of a Weeble. 

I explained the reason for my visit and showed him my credentials. 

“A private detective from New Hampshire?” He eyed me with a fair amount of distrust.  Either that, or he was just trying to be intimidating.  “The case of Melanie Barr Frazier is closed.”

“I know it is,” I said.  “The daughter hired me because she thinks Jasmine Thompson is innocent.”

He smirked.  “You’re kidding, right?”

“Look, I don’t expect you to reopen the case, I’m just wondering if there were any other suspects, before you arrested Jasmine?”

He leaned back in his seat and folded his hands across his ample belly.  “Sure, we always check into the husband.  But he was out of the country at the time of death.  We found no evidence to suggest that he was involved in the poisoning.  There were only four sets of prints found at the crime scene.” He counted on each finger.  “The deceased, the deceased’s daughter, the woman who leases the office next door and the drug dealer, Ms. Thompson.”

“Did you question other people in Melanie’s office building? Around the neighborhood? Maybe there was another person who went to Melanie’s office after Jasmine left.”

“Look, Ms. Woods,” he leaned forward, resting his burly arms on the desk.  “You’ve obviously read the police report, so why’d you really come to see me?”

“Do you think it’s possible that Jasmine was set up?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then, what was her motive?”

He put a hand up to stop me.  “Ms. Woods, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but there’s nothing more to do.  The case is closed.  Heck, Ms. Thompson pled guilty to the crime.”

“That’s only because her attorney made a deal with the DA.  He’d convinced her that a trial was too risky.  She felt she had no choice.  Now she’s in prison for five years while her husband is dying of cancer.”

“Well,” he said, unaffected.  “I guess Ms. Thompson should have thought about that before she became a drug dealer.”

I sighed.  This conversation was going nowhere.  I grabbed my bag and stood up.  “Thanks for your time, detective.  I won’t waste another minute of it.”

Chapter 17

As I walked out of the Cambridge Police Department, my cell phone vibrated.  I checked the caller ID and answered the call.

“Hey Carter, what’s up?”

“I have some information,” he said.  “Where are you?”

“I just spoke with Detective Donahue.  You were right, he’s an ass.”

“Well, get this,” he said.  “I talked to Ryan Frazier’s old boss in Pensacola. I think I figured out why they moved back here.”

“Why?”

“Apparently Ryan got involved with a woman he worked with. Presumably a one-night stand but who knows. Anyway, this woman became obsessed with Ryan. Wouldn’t leave him alone.  Ryan was afraid Heather would find out, so he packed up the apartment and told his wife they were moving back to Boston.”

“Interesting,” I said.  “I wonder if Heather eventually found out.”

“Who cares,” Carter said. “Doesn’t have anything to do with Melanie’s death. But I did find something else.”

“What?”

“Charlie Cox is going to be back in Boston for a few days starting tomorrow.  His flight gets into Logan around 3:00pm.  I’ll email you his itinerary.”

“How’d you get his itinerary?” I asked.

“I had a nice little chat with Charlie’s secretary.  She was very helpful.  Her name is Kelli with an ‘I’.”

“Great.” I rolled my eyes, knowing full well how the women responded to Carter’s charm.  “Do you know which hotel he’s staying at?”

“The Channing Hotel in Cambridge.  Apparently, that’s where he stays whenever he’s in town.”

My body stiffened.  “Hold on a second, Carter, let me check something really quickly.”

I flipped through the pages of my notebook and found the spot where I had written Melanie’s schedule.  I tapped my finger on the page and felt a twinge of excitement.

“Melanie met with someone at 9:00 with the initials C.H.  But maybe it’s not a person after all,” I said.  “Is it possible that she met Charlie at his hotel? Think about it.  CH could stand for Charlie or also for Channing Hotel.”

“It’s worth looking into,” he said.  “Go check out the hotel and show Melanie’s picture to an employee.  See if someone can ID her.”

“What are the chances that Melanie and Gregory’s best friend were having an affair?”

“Pretty good,” he said. “And if they were, I’m wondering if Gregory knew about it.”

* * *

The Channing Hotel was a ten story boutique hotel located a block from Harvard Square.  There was valet parking, but I opted for a parking garage a few blocks away.  As I approached the hotel, I noticed a bellhop leaning against the outer building smoking a cigarette.  Not much going on, apparently.  I imagined there was a lull in the action from 11:00 (checkout time) and 3:00 (check in time).  Since it was almost noon, I figured my timing was perfect. 

I casually walked into the hotel lobby and looked around.  Small but elegant.  No guests in sight.  The reception counter was to the left.  To the right were elevators and a small waiting area with a few couches.  On the far end of the lobby was the bar.  No bartender in sight, either.

The concierge behind the counter was probably in his fifties with thinning, grey hair.  He had a phone to his ear, a serious, tight-lipped expression on his face, like he was listening to a whiny customer.

I decided to go back outside and approached the bellboy, who appeared to be eighteen or nineteen years old.  “Hello,” I said.  “I’m sorry to interrupt your break but may I ask you a question?”

He stubbed out his cigarette, straightened his posture, and smiled at me.  “Sure, how can I help you?”

I showed him my cell phone, with a picture of Melanie that I’d downloaded from the Amazon website.  “Is she a guest of the hotel?”

He appraised the photo with interest.  “I see hundreds of people a week but, yeah, she looks familiar.  I think she usually has blonde hair, though.”

“Blonde?”

“Yeah,” he said.  “I don’t know her name.”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“Come to think of it, she hasn’t been around in awhile.  A few months at least.”

That’s because she’s dead, I thought.

Maybe Melanie had worn a wig.  Made sense if she was sleeping with her husband’s best friend.  Incognito was a smart idea.

“Who is she?” the kid asked.

He obviously hadn’t watched the news or read the paper, and probably had no idea that Melanie was a bestselling author and sex expert.  I decided to ignore his question.  “Did you ever see her here with a man?”

The kid shook his head.  “Don’t think so.  She was always alone.  Never had any suitcases.  Come to think of it, she never stayed long, either.”

“Room number?”

“Sorry,” he said.  “I have no idea.”

“Do you know a guest by the name of Charlie Cox?” I reached into my bag and showed him the photo.

The kid looked at it.  “Sure, I’ve seen him before.  He comes here a lot.”

“But you’ve never seen the two together?”

“No, sorry.”

“Thanks a million,” I said, handing him a twenty-dollar bill.  “Here’s a tip.”

He looked down and grinned.  “Wow, thank you.”

Chapter 18

After leaving the Channing Hotel, I sat in my car, thinking. 

I almost called Candice with the news about Charlie and her mother, but I still didn’t have hard proof of an affair. 

This made me think of Gregory.  He was the one who initially suspected his wife of having an affair, but did he have any clue it was with his best friend?

I sat there and wondered; how had Melanie and Charlie communicated? There were no e-mails on her laptop.  No suspicious calls on her phone.  If Melanie had used a burner phone, it hadn’t been found, unless the person who gave her the poisoned joint took it on the night she died.

It was almost 4:30 pm by the time I got back to Bridgeport.  I spent the next hour cleaning my apartment and anticipating a night out with my son.

Brian showed up at 5:30 and I gave him the longest hug.  I noticed he’d gained a little weight around the midsection.  He was no longer my scrawny teenager.  He was becoming a full-fledged man.

“Jeesh,” I said, squeezing his face in my hands.  “Feels like I haven’t seen you in years.”

“It’s only been two months,” he said, smiling with his goofy grin.  “I’ve been busy, you know.”

“Busy eating out at fast food joints,” I teased.  “Please tell me you have a vegetable once in a while.”

“Sure,” he said.  “I always have ketchup with my French fries.”

“Very funny.  Maybe instead of pizza tonight, we should go to the salad bar.”

Brian made a face.  “Salad? That’s boring.”

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal.  We’ll get pizza, but instead of pepperoni, we’ll get veggie.  Is that a fair deal?”

He sighed.  “Sure, whatever.”

We drove to Flat Dough Pizza in downtown, Bridgeport and ordered the “healthy” pizza. 

“Hey, by the way,” I said, smiling at him across the table.  “Thanks for referring me to your friend Candice.”

He seemed intrigued.  “So she actually hired you?”

“Yeah, I’ve been working on her case for the past few days.  How’d you meet her?”

“We had a class together last semester.  She seems pretty cool.  Sad what happened to her mom, though.  I read about it online.  Was she really poisoned from smoking a joint?”

I nodded.  “The dealer who sold her the joint is in prison.  But Candice thinks there’s more to the story.”

Brian perked up.  “Really? Like a conspiracy theory?”

“I shouldn’t talk about it.  Even though you’re friendly with Candice, I’m not sure she’d want me to share the details.”

“That’s okay.”

“Enough about work,” I said.  “I want you to tell me about college.”

He took a sip of his ginger ale and shrugged.  “It’s fine.  I like my classes.”

So typical, his generic answers for everything.  Getting details from Brian was like pulling teeth. 

“Are you dating anyone?” I asked.

“Not really.  I mean, there’s a girl in one of my classes, she’s pretty cool.  I haven’t actually asked her out yet.”

“What’s holding you back?”

He shrugged.  “I don’t know.  She’s smart.  Dean’s list all the way.  And she’s funny.”

“Smart is good,” I said.  “Funny is even better.”

The pizza showed up, and the conversation ended.  We devoured the large veggie pizza in ten minutes.

Finally, I decided to tell Brian the big news.  “So, it looks like I’m moving to San Francisco.”

Brian laughed.  “Good one, mom.”

“No, I’m serious.  Max got a job and he wants me to move there with him.”

Brian just blinked at me.  “When?”

“September.”

“That’s only a few months,” he said.  “What about the lease on your apartment?”

“I’ll figure it out.  Should be plenty of time for my landlord to find someone to take it over.”

Brian’s shoulders slumped.  “Wow.  I guess I thought you’d never leave Bridgeport.”

“Are you upset?”

He remained quiet for a few, long seconds.  “I mean, it’s your life.  You can do whatever you want.”

“I know that,” I said. 

“I’ll miss you.”

Those three little words warmed my heart.  I reached across the table and held his hand.  “I’ll miss you, too, sweetheart.”

He looked up at me and tried to smile.  “You better buy me a round-trip airplane ticket to California for Christmas.”

“You bet I will,” I said.  “As long as I can find some jobs when I get out there.  It might take me a while to get my PI license in a different state.”

“How does Carter feel about you moving away? He must be bummed.”

I chuckled.  “You know how Carter is.  He doesn’t seem to care either way.”

Brian leaned back and laughed at me.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“You have no idea, do you?”

I crossed arms over my chest.  “What are you talking about?”

“Carter might play it cool, but he’s got a thing for you.  Everyone can tell.”

“Everyone?” I shook my head.  “That’s ridiculous.  He’s my partner.  And he’s never even hinted at wanting anything more.”

“That’s because he’s a decent guy.  He’s not going to hit on you because he knows you’re with Max.”

I hadn’t really thought of that.  “Even if you’re righ
t—
which you are no
t—
a romantic relationship with Carter would never work out.”

“Whatever, mom.”

“Let’s talk about something else.  Have you heard from your dad?”

He gave me a look of incredulity.  “You’d rather talk about dad than Carter? Wow, I never thought I’d see the day.”

I lightly slapped his arm.  “Where did you learn to be such a smart ass?”

“I learned from the best smart ass of them all,” he said with a wink.

“Touché.”

Brian dropped me off at my apartment around 9:00pm.  I gave him another long hug and we made plans to get together soon.  He even promised to help me pack when the time came to move.

As soon as he left, my cell phone chimed.  It was Carter.  He got right down to business.

“How’d it go today at the hotel?” he asked. 

“The bellboy was very helpful.  I showed him a photo of Melanie, but he said she had blonde hair.  Must have been a wig.  Thing is, he never saw her and Charlie together.”

“No big surprise.  They were just being careful.  Are you still planning to see him when he comes to Boston tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to go with you?”

“Not necessary,” I said.  “I can handle it.  Besides, maybe you can keep an eye on Gregory.  Find out who his girlfriend is.”

“I can do that,” he said.  “Let’s touch base tomorrow.”

I thought about telling him that I’d made a decision to move, but the timing didn’t seem right.  “Sure.  Goodnight.”

And that was that.