Claire walked into her editor's office.
"You wanted to see me, Sam?" she asked as she sat down in the chair in front of his desk.
Sam looked at Claire over the top of his glasses. "I sure do. I had a great idea last night and I think you're the one to make it work."
Claire started to get up. "Oh, no you don't. I remember your last idea all too well. 'A bar story' I think you called it. Geesh, Sam, I still haven't gotten the liquor and cigarette smells out of my wool jacket! Uh, uh, no, no no, to your great idea!" She walked over to the door.
"Claire, wait! Hear me out." Claire stopped at the door, hand on the knob. "It's almost Halloween right? Everyone's thinking of trick or treats and wondering how they'll cover the cute kids in their costumes - or tampered candy - or how we should enact a minimum age law for the kids going door to door. Come on, Claire, let's be different this year," he said as he stood up and walked over to her. "Let's do a story about that man that was murdered in his home, ah, what's his name…" Sam looked down at his notes. "Ahern. That's his name. Ahern. That case was never solved, the house is vacant, and I," he said with relish in his voice, "have the key!" He reached into his pocket and showed her a silver key.
"What?" she almost yelled. "You expect me to go into a house with no electricity, no heat, and just what, roam around, see if I can find any clues? And you want me to do this on Halloween night?" She walked back toward his desk, hating the smug look on his face. She sat down. "Come ON, Sam, the cops have been all over that place with a fine toothed comb! Besides, I'm covering a local Chamber of Commerce board election." That last comment fell on deaf ears as she knew it would when she said it.
"Claire, it's decided. Take the key. And don't worry about that Chamber stuff. The election's not till next week." He looked at her for a moment, remembering their past. Shaking his head he laughed. "Though it was a nice try."
Claire stormed out of his office. Her blue eyes were flashing, her long curly red hair shaking as she went back to her office. Sitting down behind her desk, she picked up a small foam basketball and threw at a basket hanging on the opposite wall. Then she turned her chair to face the window as she thought about her new 'assignment'.
An hour later, she was engrossed in newspaper archives: Brian Ahern, age 46, dark brown hair, 5'8", 175 lbs...single at time of death. There were no real clues to the crime. "The deceased was known as a 'playboy' type," the chief homicide detective, John Murphy, stated. "We found a few objects and other items that could be leads in this case. We're now following them up."
She looked up from the computer to see her best friend, Kate walking toward her. "I have a question. How can the police follow up leads to a homicide if they found no real clues?"
Kate looked over her shoulder and read the screen. "Well, Claire, they did find something interesting. It just wasn't released. They discovered red hair strands on his pillow and on one of his T-shirts. Blood spots on the shirt indicated it was worn by the murderer. As to 'who' murdered him, they lost the trail. Ahern was kind of a jerk. Had a black book and everything." She set a coffee cup next to Claire. "Why what's going on?"
Claire eyes now flashing with interest, anger forgotten. "I've got this assignment to visit his house, see if I can find anything." She laughed. "Can you imagine the headlines? Ace reporter talks to dead spirit on Halloween night -- provides new leads in murder."
Kate grinned. "Good luck. Call me if you need anything else. I have some hard copy with pictures and other wonderfully gory stuff to look at. Halloween and you looking into a murder ..." She shook her head. "Gives me the shivers, girl! Gotta go. Call me if you need anything, ok?" Claire nodded her head, once again lost in thought as she continued to research her dead subject.
October 31st dawned, cold and rainy. Great, thought Claire. She pushed off the quilt as her cat KC meowing his disapproval. Just the weather for a murder home visit, she groaned. She almost pulled the quilt back over her head but it was too late. KC and her other two cats heard her moans and decided it was people language for "time to eat, guys!"
"Okokok," she grumbled as she got up, grabbed her robe and headed for the kitchen. She made coffee, fed the cats and walked into the living room. As she opened the blinds, she noticed a white envelope lying on the floor by the front door. She picked it up, walked back into the kitchen and poured some coffee. Sitting down at the kitchen table, she opened the letter: 'I hear you're going to re-investigate the Brian Ahern murder. Meet me at the house, 9 tonight. Come alone.'
Her heart stopped for a second as she reread the words. Wondering who knew she had this assignment besides Kate and Sam, she grabbed the phone and dialed Sam's direct number. "Sam, Claire. Did you tell anyone I was doing a story on the Ahern murder?"
"Claire? Well, good morning to you, too."
"Ah, Sam, okokokok, good morning. How are you? And the kids? How's the weather?" she asked sarcastically.
"Claire, you do know how to start my day. Kids? What kids? None because you and I never made it work."
"Don't start with me, Sam. It never worked because you had an eye for every woman but me. Now, let's stop this. Did you tell anyone about my assignment?"
"No, I didn't. Why?"
"No reason, I was just curious. Didn't want to pay a visit on the scene and deal with other papers. Do me a favor and keep it quiet, ok? I have a feeling about this."
"Sure, Claire. And don't forget, the deadline is 3pm tomorrow."
She hung up the phone, more curious than panicked. She stood up, stretched, and walked into the bedroom with her coffee in her hand. Pulling off her T-shirt, she stood naked in front of her closet, deciding what to wear. She threw jeans and a gray T-shirt on the bed, then headed for the shower.
As she stepped under the hot water, she stood up straight. She felt cold as she stood under the hot water! Startled, she turned the hot faucet up but the coldness stayed with her. Scared, she shut the water off.
Trying to shake off her fright, she turned the water back on, relieved to feel hot under the hot. She tried to convince herself it was nothing but she made record time in getting in and out of the shower. Her hands were shaking as she dried herself off, thinking about what had happened. "Am I losing my mind?" She looked at her reflection in the mirror. "Just a freak of nature...the water wasn't really that hot..." She shook her head, a chill still running through her. "Hell, I really felt what I felt!" She left, picking up her cold coffee.
She tried to convince herself it was just her imagination while she got dressed. She headed back into the bathroom. As she braided her hair, the little hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up. She stared at her eyes in the mirror, feeling something softly caress the nape of her neck. She watched her nipples harden under her thin shirt. Her breath quickened. As suddenly as the feeling came, it left. Standing in front of the mirror, she held onto the edge of the sink.
I am losing my mind, she thought. It had been 6 weeks since she had last seen Dan. Claire knew she was still not over him. "That's it!" she almost yelled! KC, lying outside the bathroom door, jumped and ran into the living room. "I'm just doing some sort of weird grieving thing." Feeling much better, she finished her long braid, then left the house, feeling almost her normal cheery self.
She got to the office and did some research on the Chamber and a couple of other ideas she had for next week. Then she went back to the archives to find out more about the murder victim. "He was a good neighbor, but quiet and kept to himself," said Mrs. Reynolds. "I've lived here all my life. He moved into the neighborhood about 6 years ago and you couldn't have asked for a better neighbor. Always had a kind word. I can't believe this happened to him!" she sobbed.
"Well, he was a nice enough chap," said Mr. O'Neill. "I lived across the street from him. When he had time, he'd come over and help me with my yard work. Women? Brian? Nope, never saw any. He kept to himself, kind of shy if you know what I mean."
Claire looked at her notes. Playboy like the cop said or nice neighbor? She continued reading, making notes on the discrepancies she was finding.
Kate brought her a sandwich as she worked through lunch and on into the evening.
It was 7:30 by the time Claire got home. Not much time, she thought. Hanging up her coat, she headed into the kitchen. Looking in her refrigerator, she sighed. Looks like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich dinner, she thought. After feeding the cats, she read the day's news while eating her sandwich.
"Time to go, KC" she said, getting up. Just as she grabbed her coat she saw another note by the front door. She picked it up and nervously opened it. 'Bring a tape recorder to Ahern's house. Don't forget, come alone.'
