Page 10 of Midnight Secrets

“Detective Quartermaine.” I rolled my eyes. “I hope he’s a better detective than he is people-person.”

“Quartermaine? He’s the new guy. I don’t know much about him, other than he likes his coffee as black as his hair and makes every woman in my shop stop and stare when he comes in—me included.”

“Yes, well, handsome doesn’t mean nice.”

“What do you mean? He’s always polite when he comes into the shop.”

I lifted a shoulder. “Then maybe it’s just me. He wasn’t very pleasant to deal with.” I took another drink of her coffee, trying to keep the frown off my face.

It was Mina’s turn to shrug. “I don’t know. He’s always been nice. Maybe it was the situation.”

I hummed, not buying it. He’d been rude this morning too. “Could be.” I didn’t want to dwell on Detective Jerkface, though.

“So, are you okay? That had to be a shock. Why are you here and not at home?”

“I’m okay. I needed to stay busy, so I came in to work. It’s helped keep my mind off things. Helped the spinning, you know?” I twirled a finger near my ear.

“Understandable. You sure you’re all right, though?”

“I’m fine, Mina. Just wondering what happened. And where Mr. Hammond is. He’s not answering his phone. I’ve tried his cell and the number they left for their hotel.”

Mina snorted. “Maybe that’s because he did it.”

I frowned. “What do you mean? You think Mr. Hammond killed his wife?”

Mina’s eyes widened. “You don’t? Claire, spouses are the first suspects in homicides. You watch enough crime dramas, you should know that.”

“I know. I mean, I do, but…” I trailed off and shook my head. “I just can’t see him doing it. He seemed so nice.”

“Ted Bundy seemed nice too.”

I rolled my eyes. “Mr. Hammond is not a serial killer. I don’t think he’s a killer of any kind. He and his wife seemed pleasant toward each other when we met to discuss selling their property. Maybe a little strained, but what they were planning was a huge life change.” I frowned, thinking more about their attitudes toward each other. I truly didn’t remember any animosity between the couple. “I am curious about what happened to him, though. I hope he’s okay. That he’s not hurt somewhere.”

“Do you have any other numbers you can call to reach him?”

I started to shake my head, then stopped, my brows dipping. “Wait. Maybe.” Shifting, I pushed the contracts I’d been reviewing to the side and pulled my keyboard closer. “I have their banking and employment history on file. I could call his office and see if anyone has heard from him. Or knows how to reach him.” I paged through the scanned records until I found his paystub. The name and phone number for his company were at the top.

Lifting the receiver on my desk phone, I dialed the number.

The receptionist picked up after the second ring. “Hello, Crandall and Crandall Investments. This is Alicia.”

“Hello, this is Claire Holmes from Homes by Holmes Realty. I’m trying to reach Warren Hammond.”

“Oh, he’s not in today. He and his wife went to Boston. May I take a message?”

Clearly, Detective Quartermaine had not been to Mr. Hammond’s office to break the news of Mrs. Hammond’s death. “It’s rather urgent that I speak to him. Do you have a way to contact him other than his cell phone? He’s not answering.”

“Hmm, did you try his wife?”

“I did. She’s not answering, either.” I was not about to tell this woman she was dead. The police could do that. “I tried their hotel as well. The Four Points in Newton?”

“Oh, actually, they’re staying at The Whitney Hotel in Beacon Hill.”

My eyebrows knit together. “Oh, I must have the wrong information, then. Do you have a room number?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t give out that information.”

“Oh, right. Yes, of course. I’ll just call the hotel and have them connect me. Thank you for your help.”

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