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“What can you tell me about Ashley Holland and Hannah Parks?”
Rita Osbourne dropped her head toward her chest. After a measured display of sorrow, she said, “How tragic. Losing them both in two terrible accidents.”
Burke and Sanchez had already questioned Rita Osbourne. She understood the deaths were suspicious. At least enough for two State Police detectives to look into how they died.
Maybe she didn't want to believe Ashley and Hannah's deaths were anything other than tragic accidents. Or she knew and didn't want to say. I wasn't sure which yet.
Rita took a deep breath and looked up at me.
She said, “Ashley and Hannah were two of my best employees. I can’t fathom how I will ever replace them.”
“No one can ever be truly replaced,” I said. “We are all unique. Special in our own way.”
“Of course,” she said. “I meant more like filling their positions. It takes a lot of training to join my escort service.”
“What kind of training?”
“You must think very little of what my girls do?”
I shook my head. “No. I'm just trying to understand your business better.”
Rita got up and crossed the office. She stared out the window as people went about their day along Massachusetts Avenue four stories below.
After a minute passed, she said, “It's all so horrific.”
Rita continued to stare out the window. Her posture was perfect. More finishing school. The black pencil knit skirt was form fitting. Rita Osbourne kept herself fit.
She turned toward me. “I’m aware of what the State Police think,” she said. Rita paused a beat. “I don't believe it.”
“I tend to agree with them,” I said. “I wouldn't be here if I didn't. I'm no longer even being paid to investigate.”
“I wasn’t aware private investigators did pro bono work.”
“We do when no one is paying us and we care enough about a case.”
“How noble,” she said. Rita sat back down in the plush leather chair and resumed her earlier position.
I said, “Two young women are dead under suspicious circumstances. Their parents deserve the truth about what really happened. If someone did kill them, and I believe someone did, they need to be brought to justice.”
“And what is justice, Mr. Patrick?”
“It's different for different people. But a murderer going to prison for life is a good place to start. It won't bring Ashley and Hannah back, but it can offer some closure.”
“And a measure of justice?” she said.
“Yes,” I said. “It's imperfect, but it's something.”
“My girls are highly educated with liberal arts educations. They can converse intelligently on many subjects. Were you aware that many of them speak at least three different languages fluently?"
“Impressive,” I said. “I'm still mastering English. And not the Queen's English. Our own version of it here in Boston.”
Rita Osbourne ignored me. She continued, “To work as an escort at Premier, a young woman must be comfortable around wealthy executives. It's not as easy as that may seem.”
“I imagine not. I'd want to stick a fork in my eye if I had to spend all that time around wealthy executives.”
“You are not a fan of wealthy and powerful men?”
“I'm not a fan of lots of folks.”
“Be that as it may,” Rita said, “escorting an elite clientele requires a level of sophistication, grace, and discretion.”
“Not to mention genuinely attractive,” I said.
Rita grinned and offered a slight nod of her head. “Yes, my girls are all attractive.”
“And tall,” I said. “Have you ever considered starting a women's basketball team?”
“You are an extremely interesting man, Mr. Patrick. A few moments ago you were talking about finding justice and closure for Ashley and Hannah, now you are attempting to be humorous.”
“A lot of people tell me I'm a wise ass. I'll take humorous. But don't think for a second I'm not serious about what I do.”
“I understand,” she said. “You must see the darker side of humanity in your line of work. Humor releases the stress.”
I nodded.
“I recognize what most people say about escort services,” Rita said.
“And?” I said.
“Most people would be wrong. Escort services like ours are completely legitimate. Our young women accompany men out to dinner, work functions, and society events. They offer stimulating conversation and the company of true beauty. Nothing more.”
“And these men pay a lot of money for this service?”
“The expense is relative,” she said.
“If you have to ask, you can't afford it,” I said.
Rita Osbourne smiled. A more genuine smile. She was warming to my charm.
“Perhaps,” she said. “We have extremely exclusive clients.”
“So for what they pay,” I said, “these extremely exclusive clients don't expect more?”
“We make it quite clear what they are, and are not, paying for.”
“But sometimes it turns into more than dinner, work functions, and society events,” I said.
“We do not sell those services,” she said. “The escorts of Premier Escort Services are not prostitutes.”
“I think you've made that pretty clear,” I said. “But there certainly are times when an escort voluntarily provides extra-curricular activities. Without being paid for them.”
“The contracts my escorts sign prohibit any physical intimacy with our clients.”
Rita Osbourne had been coached well by Premier's attorneys. And what she said would legally hold up. I had no doubt what the contracts said. I also had no doubt those contracts were sometimes broken. What mattered to me was if Ashley and Hannah were killed because of it.
“Were you aware Ashley Holland was sleeping with Grant Worthington?” I said.
“I cannot discuss a client with you.”
“So you don't deny Grant Worthington is a client?”
Perhaps I should have been a lawyer. Or at least played one on TV.
“I know you are already aware of the fact,” Rita said. “But I still cannot discuss a client with you. You are not the police.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “But are you also aware there is photographic evidence of Ashley and Grant sleeping together?”
“I am not going to discuss this with you,” she said.
Rita Osbourne was one smart cookie. And had first-class lawyers.
“All I want to do is find out who killed Ashley and Hannah,” I said.
“Assuming they were murdered,” she said.
“Ashley and Hannah both worked as escorts here. They both died in apparent tragic accidents just days apart. You don't find that strange?”
I waited a few beats. “Well?” I said when Rita didn't answer.
“There are such things as coincidences, Mr. Patrick.”
“Not like these,” I said. “At least not most of the time.”
“And that's your professional opinion?” Rita said.
“Mine, and those of two excellent State Police detectives. But don't tell them I said they were excellent.”
We were silent a few more beats. Then I said, “I've done this many times. Too many. So have detectives Burke and Sanchez. Detective Captain Robert Burke has seen more cases than he can even remember. We can solve this one. With or without cooperation. But it will be a lot easier with cooperation.”
Rita Osbourne took a deep breath and exhaled. She said, “These are delicate matters. They must be handled with discretion.”
“Discreet is my middle name.”
“While I don't condone any of my girls becoming intimate with clients,” Rita said, “I realize it happens on occasion.”
“And you were aware it happened with Ashley?”
“Yes,” she said.
“What about Hannah?”
Rita nodded her head.
“With the same client?”
Rita nodded her head again.
“Are there any other escorts who also had this same client?”
Rita considered my question a moment. “Yes,” she said. “Brooke Chambers. Although I don't think Brooke ever,” she stopped herself a beat. Then she continued, “I don't think Brooke was ever intimate with the client.”
“You don't have to answer,” I said, “but am I correct in thinking the client we are speaking of is Grant Worthington?”
Rita Osbourne looked me. “You are an astute detective, Mr. Patrick,” she said, “you don't need my answer.”