Murder and Misfortune Read online

  Murder and Misfortune

  A Claire Rollins Cozy Mystery Book 3

  J. A. Whiting

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Thank you for reading!

  Books/Series By J. A. Whiting

  About the Author

  Copyright 2017 J.A. Whiting

  Cover copyright 2017 Susan Coils at www.coverkicks.com

  Formatting by Signifer Book Design

  Proofreading by Donna Rich

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, or incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to locales, actual events, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from J. A. Whiting.

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  Created with Vellum

  For my family with love

  1

  The early morning fog and humidity hung like a wet blanket in the air making Claire Rollins feel like she was dragging her legs through a lake as she ran the path along the Charles River to the spot where she would meet her running partner and friend, Detective Ian Fuller. Claire and Ian had run a mini-triathlon several days earlier and they were both pleased with their performances and times.

  The two had gone out to dinner afterwards to a small restaurant in a cozy inn and although they both tried to ignore it, Claire couldn’t deny the sparks that flew between them. Just thinking of Ian sent a warm flutter through her body as she moved her feet swiftly over the path.

  There were few other runners out and thirty-five-year-old Claire chalked it up to the day’s dense fog making people hit the snooze button on their alarms and turn over for a little more sleep rather than head out to exercise in the damp, dreary day.

  A figure approached through the ground-level cloud and for a moment, a flash of nervousness flared in Claire’s chest and she gripped tightly to her small canister of pepper spray. As the runner got closer, she could see that it was a woman, similar in size and age to herself. Claire stepped a bit to her right to make more room on the path, and as she and the young woman nodded to one another as they passed, the baseball hat the girl was wearing flew off her head and hit the ground.

  Claire stopped, picked it up, and turned to see the person coming back to retrieve the cap. For a moment, Claire and the athletic, dark-haired woman held the hat in their hands at the same time.

  “Thanks.” The young woman gave Claire a warm, friendly smile, slipped the hat over her head, and turned to continue her run down the trail.

  Watching the woman run until she disappeared into the thick milky fog, Claire had an urge to call out to her, but she didn’t know why or what she thought she should say. Shaking off a shudder of unease, Claire turned and continued her run in the opposite direction following the bend in the trail until she spotted Ian moving towards her at easy, rhythmic pace.

  “Hi.” Ian stopped and smiled. His brown hair was damp and a little drop of water fell from a dark strand hanging over his forehead. “Kind of an eerie morning, huh? I wondered if we’d run right past each other in the fog and not even notice.”

  Claire returned the smile and as she tucked a loose piece of her long, curly blond hair back into her ponytail, she looked over her shoulder to the trail behind her. “It was weird running alone through the mist. It made me uneasy.”

  Ian looked down at her hand and nodded. “You’ve got your pepper spray with you. Good.”

  They took off together and when the path led in two different directions, they veered to the left to stay along the river. Ian chattered as they ran talking to Claire about keeping up their training, finding another mini-marathon to do, and reminding her that she’d promised to run the Boston Marathon with him if they both achieved their personal goals in the last event.

  “We have to qualify for Boston, you know,” Claire said. “Why don’t we plan to do the Marine Corps Marathon in D.C. as a qualifying run.”

  “Why that one?” Ian asked.

  Claire grinned. “I heard it’s a flat course.”

  Chuckling, Ian said, “If we get involved with a charitable organization and raise enough money, we can run Boston with the organization’s group and then we don’t need to complete a qualifying race.”

  “Good idea.” Claire extended her leg to jump over a puddle. “But, I still might need more convincing to work towards a marathon. We’re both busy and besides, training during the winter will be awful.”

  Tabling the discussion for the time being, they ran the final three miles and ended at a small parking lot where Ian had left his car. “Do you want me to drop you at your townhouse or at Tony’s market?”

  Claire looked back at the trail through the mist, as something unpleasant picked at her.

  “Claire?”

  She turned her blue eyes to Ian, blinking. “What did you say?”

  “Is something wrong?” Ian’s voice held a tone of concern.

  No.” Claire shook her head trying to throw off the annoying sensation she was feeling. “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Why do you keep looking at the path?”

  “I’m not.” Claire knew she kept looking at the path, but she didn’t know why. Something about that girl who dropped her hat kept pinging in her brain and she had a compelling urge to rush back to where they’d briefly met. “I’m looking at the fog. It makes everything seem mysterious.”

  “Well,” Ian kidded, “should we stay longer to admire the landscape or should we leave so we can get to work and not get fired?”

  “I like working at Nicole’s chocolate shop.” The corner of Claire’s mouth turned up. “I don’t want to lose my job. Let’s go.” Just as she was about to get into Ian’s car, images of the woman runner flashed in her mind and for a moment, her throat constricted and she couldn’t suck in a breath. Coughing to mask her momentary discomfort, Claire slid into the vehicle with the beginnings of a headache pounding in her temple.

  Claire and Nicole put the finishing touches on the vegetable lasagna they’d spent the past hour and a half making and Claire slid it into the oven and set the timer. Nicole went to the closet to get the dogs’ leashes and when the Corgis saw what she was doing, they began to dance around the kitchen eager to leave the townhouse for a walk.

  The fog had lifted around noon revealing a bright, cloudless blue sky and an afternoon breeze off the ocean had cleared out the heavy humidity. Claire, Nicole, and the dogs left the house and headed through the Beacon Hill neighborhood streets down to the path that ran along the river. Walking the trail that led to the path Claire ran on that morning caused a shiver of worry to race through her as she remembered the young woman who passed her and dropped her hat.

  Nicole chattered about the people she’d interviewed for the waitress job at the chocolate shop. “I just don’t know. I’m not sure any of them will fit in. I have tw
o more to talk to tomorrow.”

  “You’ll find the right person,” Claire told her.

  They walked the dogs to the small wooded park located off of the river path and freed them from their leashes so they could dart around sniffing the grass and trees. Claire and Nicole settled on a bench facing the water and watched the people strolling by and the runners jogging past.

  “When I went to meet Ian this morning, it was so foggy I could hardly see where I was going. There weren’t many people out. It felt sort of weird running through the mist.”

  With a worried look, Nicole shifted on the seat to better face her friend. “Did something happen?”

  “No.” Claire sighed. “I don’t know why I felt so odd. Maybe it was the spooky atmosphere of the fog.”

  Nicole narrowed her eyes. “Nothing happened? Nobody spoke to you? Nobody bumped into you? You didn’t sense anything?”

  Claire looked out at the boats on the river. “A girl, maybe a little younger than us, ran by me. She had a baseball hat on. A gust of wind came up and blew it off. I picked it up and handed it to her.”

  “Then what?” Nicole asked warily.

  “Then I ran to meet Ian.”

  “What about the girl?” Nicole’s gaze was intense.

  “I didn’t see her again.”

  “Claire,” Nicole said with a tone of seriousness, “did you have some sensation? Was your intuition trying to tell you something?”

  “I don’t know what it was.” Claire reached up and twisted a long lock of her hair. “I kept wanting to look down the path. Something felt off. I don’t know why, but I wanted to talk to that girl. It seemed urgent.”

  Claire had recently developed the ability to sense or pick up on things about people especially if she touched the person or something the person owned. The skill had come in handy during the past six weeks when she and Nicole had been drawn into two difficult mysteries.

  Claire gave a shrug and smiled. “Maybe I shouldn’t run in fog.”

  Nicole continued to question Claire. “Did you feel something when you handed the runner her hat?”

  “Now that I’m thinking about it, I suppose what I felt couldn’t have had anything to do with her.” Claire wasn’t so sure the interaction didn’t hold some importance, but she wanted to forget the whole thing so she tried to convince herself it was nothing.

  “Good.” Nicole sat back against the bench and turned her face to the sun. “Let’s talk about something else. How about those cream cheese brownies you were telling me about? Want to make some tomorrow and see how they go over with the customers?”

  “Sure.” Claire switched her attention to chocolate and desserts. “I think they’ll be a hit.”

  “Do you have any other ideas for new sweets we can add to the menu?”

  Claire made some suggestions and while she listened to Nicole’s opinions, she noticed someone walking along the path near the water with a young man and she sat up straight, her eyes wide.

  Feeling Claire’s sudden movement, Nicole shaded her eyes with her hand. “What are you looking at?”

  “Over there.” Claire gestured and let out a sigh of relief. “It’s the girl I saw on the path this morning.”

  A young woman with a long dark ponytail wearing shorts and a t-shirt and a baseball hat on her head walked along beside a tall, slim man with dark blond hair. The man had on a short-sleeved t-shirt that showed the muscles in his arms.

  “She looks fine,” Nicole said. “So your feeling must have been from the foggy weather, like you said.”

  “Yeah.” Claire nodded. “I have to admit that I worried about her. I’m glad to see that she’s okay.”

  “Now you can transfer your attention to the chocolate shop menu.” Nicole checked her watch. “The lasagna will be ready soon. We should head back.”

  Claire called to the dogs and Bear and Lady dashed over to the bench wagging their tails. She hitched the leashes onto their collars and handed one of them to Nicole and they started on their way out of the park.

  Lady hesitated, turned around to look at the walking path near the river, and let out a whine. Claire’s heart rate sped up when she saw what the Corgi had her eyes on.

  The dark-haired runner with the baseball hat had turned around and was strolling back up the walkway with her companion. The earlier feeling of unease wrapped around Claire like a vise and would not let go.

  2

  Before going to work at Nicole’s chocolate shop, Claire and the Corgis, heading to Tony’s Market and Deli, walked along the brick sidewalks of Adamsburg Square, a small neighborhood consisting of a few blocks at the edge of Beacon Hill. The early morning sun’s rays promised another hot, humid day for the city of Boston.

  Bear and Lady wagged their tails, sniffed at the base of light posts and at spots on the brick walkways, and jauntily trotted in front of their owner. The dogs knew the routine and looked forward to staying with Tony in the store or lounging in the small, walled-in grassy space off the market’s store room while Claire was at work.

  Claire carried a large pastry box full of different versions of the cream cheese brownies she and Nicole had discussed the previous day. There was an upcoming food festival that would take place near the city’s waterfront which would feature various chefs, restaurants, and dessert shops. A contest would be held that day to vote for and choose the best items entered into different categories.

  Nicole wanted to feature the chocolate shop by setting up a booth to serve pastries to festival goers, but more importantly, she wanted to enter a dessert in the food contest’s pastry category and she’d been discussing possible options with Claire.

  Inside Tony’s market, Claire joined retired State Supreme Court Justice Augustus Gunther at their usual table. There were only three small tables tucked in a corner of Tony’s place near the coffee and tea station he’d set up alongside some muffins and donuts for customers who wanted to run in for a quick takeout item.

  Augustus already had his first coffee of the day on the table in front of him. The dogs rushed over for their morning pats and they wiggled around the older judge like they hadn’t seen him in years.

  “You’re early.” Claire set the pastry box on the table before going to get her tea. “Where’s Tony?”

  “He’s taking some recycling items to the bins out back,” Augustus said and eyed the brown box. “What do we have here?”

  Tony Martinelli, in his early seventies, tall, tanned, and stocky with a head of white hair, came in through the store room and the dogs hurried to greet him just as they’d done with Augustus.

  Opening the pastry box, Claire explained to Tony and Augustus about the food festival and Nicole’s plan to enter something into the contest. “So I made these cream cheese brownies as our first option. They’re all basically the same, but I’ve divided them into three batches and added some secret ingredients to them. I’d like you to sample the three different kinds and give your opinion on the taste.”

  Tony carried over paper plates so Claire could arrange the three different flavors on separate dishes.

  “I won’t tell you the flavors. I don’t want to feed into your preconceived notions of what you like and don’t like. Try them and let me know what you think.” Claire folded her arms on the table and leaned forward. She said to Tony, “Maybe I could bring in a platter of desserts and some of your customers can vote for their favorites.”

  Tony reached for one of the brownies. “That’d be fine with me as long as I get to eat more of them. I’ll move stuff around on the front counter so you can set up your platter where the customers can see it.” The big man bit into the sweet treat, chewed, and swallowed.

  Claire watched him with wide eyes.

  Tony took another bite, savored it, and swallowed.

  “Well?”

  “Don’t rush me.” He raised his index finger. “I’m giving this serious thought.” Tony went through the process with each of the brownie flavors taking his time with the taste test
.

  Claire gestured to the dishes. “Augustus? Would you like to share your opinion?”

  “I would indeed. I’m so fascinated with Tony’s process, I got distracted.” The slender man was dressed in his usual manner. Today’s fashion variation had the judge wearing a light blue summer suit, white starched shirt, and a dark blue tie. He removed three of the brownies and placed them on his plate.

  “I’ve made my choice,” Tony announced as he licked the tip of his finger.

  “Wait,” Claire admonished. “Let Augustus make a decision before you tell him which one is your favorite. You’re not allowed to influence him.”

  Tony folded his arms over his chest and watched the man bite and chew.

  “I have made my choice.” Augustus dabbed his lips with a paper napkin. “All three are delectable, but this is my favorite.” He pointed.

  “That’s the one with toasted coconut.” Claire looked pleased.

  “Nope,” Tony said. “That was my least favorite.” He pointed to a stack of brownies on the plate in the center of the table. “I liked these the best.”

  Claire nodded and said, “Those have caramel swirl. Why didn’t you like Augustus’s favorite?”

  “I don’t like coconut.” Tony went to the front of the market he’d owned for fifty years to wait on a customer.

  “What about these? What secret ingredient is contained in these brownies?” Augustus asked.

  The young woman grinned. “Marshmallow.”

  “I almost chose the marshmallow flavor as my number one.” Augustus raised his coffee mug. “Well done, Claire. Any of these brownies would be grand prize winners.”

  Claire thanked the judge. “We’ll have other things we’d like you and Tony to try. I’ll bring some things in most mornings until we decide which bakery sweet will be our contest entry.”

  “Well, I can look forward to that.” Augustus nodded his snow white head in approval and patted his waist. “At my age, I have trouble keeping weight on. These wonderful desserts will be good for me.” The judge was over ninety years old and he had a very slim frame.