Page 11 of Midnight Secrets

“Of course. I hope you reach him.”

“Thank you. Goodbye.”

“You’re welcome. Bye.”

I set the phone down and stared at it for a moment, then looked at Mina.

“What?”

“The Hammonds lied about where they were staying. They told me they were at The Four Points, but the receptionist said they’re at The Whitney.”

Mina’s eyebrows rose. “That sounds like an expensive place.” She took her phone from her pocket and opened her internet browser.

“I know. I wonder why they lied.”

“Or how they could afford it.” She let out a low whistle. “I was right. It’s not cheap.” She looked up. “Autumn Creek Road isn’t the ritziest part of town. This is definitely not a hotel I’d expect someone who lives there to stay at.”

I hummed, thinking. “They both work. And he is a financial investor. I’ve seen their finances. They mostly live off of her income. Most of his gets socked away into their savings.”

Mina raised a finger. “That’s the way to do it when you get married if you can swing it.”

“Yeah. And they don’t have children, which makes it even easier.”

“How old are they?”

“Early forties.”

“Wow.” Mina shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her frown returning. “Makes you think, doesn’t it? We’re not far off from that, and I don’t think I have the kind of savings they do.”

It did. I grimaced and nodded. “Yeah, me either.” I picked up the phone again.

“Who are you calling now?”

“The Whitney Hotel.”

“Wait.” Mina leaned forward and put a hand over the keypad. “Do you think that’s wise? What if he’s there and you get him on the line? What are you going to say to him? He might not know about his wife yet. I know if it were me, I wouldn’t want someone—especially someone who’s not law enforcement or someone I know well—telling me my spouse is dead. And definitely not over the phone.”

Crap. Mina was right. Scrunching my nose, I replaced the receiver. “Yeah.”

“Maybe you should just call Detective Quartermaine and tell him what you found out.”

I scrunched my nose harder. “Do I have to?”

Mina gave me a look.

I sighed. “Fine.” Reaching into my desk drawer, I rummaged inside my purse for his card. Finding it, I picked up the phone and dialed.

It rang six times, then rolled to voicemail, which made me happy. I didn’t have to talk to him and listen to him tell me to stay out of things.

“Hi, Detective, it’s Claire Holmes,” I said after the beep. “I wanted to let you know that the Hammonds were supposed to stay at the Four Points Hotel in Newton, Massachusetts, but the receptionist at Crandall and Crandall, where Mr. Hammond works, said they were staying at The Whitney in Beacon Hill in Boston. No, I didn’t call the hotel. I just wanted to see if anyone had spoken to him today. I’m worried. I also didn’t tell the woman on the phone that Mrs. Hammond is dead. Anyway, that’s it. Bye.”

I replaced the receiver and looked at Mina. “Happy?”

She grinned. “Yep.”

“Good. Now tell me what you wanted to talk about.”

“Oh, that.” She set her coffee on the desk, then leaned sideways and dipped a hand into her bag, producing a folder. “Read this and tell me what you think.” She set it in front of me.

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