A Sinister Sense (19 page)

Clara rolled her eyes at the TV and stabbed the off button on the remote. Yawning, she rinsed her cup in the sink and dropped it in the dishwasher. A good night’s sleep, that’s what she needed, and with Tatters in the utility room, maybe tonight she’d get one.

Quietly she tiptoed down the hallway and opened her bedroom door. A low
Woof!
greeted her. Turning on the light, she saw Tatters sprawled on her bed, his tail thumping the pillow.

Clara muttered a word her mother would not approve of as she closed the door. Crossing the room to the bed, she whispered, “You’re supposed to be in the utility room.”

Tatters rolled over onto his back and waved his legs in the air.

Clara groaned, then got undressed, her hopes for a restful night disappearing. Settling down as best she could with a big hairy head on the pillow next to her, she drew the covers over her shoulders and closed her eyes. Almost immediately the tingling sensation began to creep over
her. A vision slowly formed in her mind, shadowy at first, like a gray fog being swirled around by the wind. As the shadows disappeared she saw a black Suburban careening across a dark parking lot, narrowly missing a streetlamp as it charged out onto the road. Tires squealing, it spun around in a sharp turn and disappeared into the night.

Catching her breath, Clara sat up and switched on the bedside lamp. She had no doubt in her mind that it was the SUV Buzz had mentioned, something she had forgotten about until now. She’d dismissed it at the time, thinking it unimportant. Apparently the Sense was telling her otherwise.

She lay back down, wishing she could have seen the license plate. Had the vehicle belonged to the killer? If so, it would be tough to track down. There had to be dozens of black Suburbans driving around Finn’s Harbor. Worse, if the killer was from out of town, he or she had probably left by now.

Clara frowned, wondering if there was a way she could find out if Stella Wilkins owned a black Suburban. Maybe she should talk to the motel manager again. He might have seen the car Stella was driving. Or maybe someone at the tavern saw her getting in or out of her car.

Not that she wanted to go back to the Laurel Street Tavern. In fact, the thought of a second visit turned her stomach.

She drew the covers up to her ears and tried to ignore Tatters’ snoring.

To her surprise, she slept fairly well, all things considered,
and woke up to hear her mother moving around in the kitchen. Tatters was awake, staring at her with expectant eyes. “I suppose you need to go outside,” she said, sitting up.

Tatters leapt from the bed and padded over to the door. Sighing, Clara pulled on a robe and opened the door for him. At least this morning, she told herself, she had time to take him for a walk.

Her mother had just sat down with a bowl of cereal when Clara wandered into the kitchen. “You were late last night,” she said, her tone mildly disapproving.

Clara wondered what her mother would say if she knew her daughter had spent the evening at the Laurel Street Tavern. “I didn’t get there until eight thirty,” she said, slipping two slices of bread into the toaster. She frowned at her mother. “You left Tatters in my room last night.”

Jessie rolled her eyes. “I tried leaving him in the utility room. He howled like a banshee. I was afraid the neighbors would complain, so I shoved him into your room. He settled down right away.”

“Well, why wouldn’t he?” Clara poured a mug of coffee. “He had a nice, soft, cozy queen-size bed to sleep on. Incidentally, he takes up most of the room and hogs all of the covers. Not to mention his snoring.”

Jessie gave her a condescending smile. “I told you it was a mistake bringing that animal home here.”

Instantly regretting her lapse, Clara sought to change the subject. “I saw the mayor on TV again last night. He’s
worried about the lack of tourists in town. Have you noticed there’s less people here than usual this summer?”

Jessie shook her head. “If you ask me, Carson Dexter is grabbing every chance he can to put his face on the television screen. He wants to be as visible as possible. I think he’s planning to announce he’s running for governor in the next election. He’s ambitious, our mayor. He won’t stop until he has a seat in the Senate.”

Clara munched on a piece of toast. “Would you vote for him?”

Jessie shrugged. “I guess it would depend on who else is running. I’ve got nothing against Carson. He’s a good mayor, and I think he’s genuinely fond of the town. Of course, it’s his wife’s hometown, so he has to be loyal to it. If it wasn’t for his wife, he wouldn’t be where he is today. It’s her money that’s paying for his ambitions.”

“Then he’s lucky to have her.” Clara reached for her coffee. “Personally I think he’s just a tad too aggressive. He’s going to bulldoze through everything and heaven help anyone who gets in his way.”

Jessie smiled. “You just described the average politician.”

Clara got up and took her plate and mug to the sink. “Well, I don’t have much time for politicians, period.”

“You’re just prejudiced because Carson wants Rick Sanders arrested for murder.”

“Maybe.” Clara rinsed her mug and put it in the dishwasher.
“But I can’t respect anyone who uses his authority to ruin an innocent person’s reputation.”

“He’s not the only one who thinks Rick is guilty.” Jessie got up from the table and joined her at the sink. “Dan only let Rick go because he didn’t have enough evidence to hold him.”

Clara turned on her. “That’s because there
is
no evidence against him. I keep telling you, Rick didn’t kill that man.”

“Then why was the body found in Rick’s truck?”

“Anyone could have put it there.”

“Why? Why not just leave the body lying on the ground?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know any of the answers. I wish I did. I just know that Rick is innocent.”

Jessie’s face softened. “All right, honey. Just don’t let your personal feelings get in the way of your common sense, okay?”

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” Clara dried her hands on a paper towel, squashing the urge to tell her mother that the Quinn Sense had convinced her of Rick’s innocence. She had kept her secret for so long, hoping that by doing so she could ignore its presence and perhaps get rid of it altogether. Instead she had spent most of her life fighting it when it was there and cursing it when it wasn’t.

Still, there was always the hope that it would help her find some of the answers she needed, and as long as the Sense was working for her and not against her, she welcomed its contribution. Right now, it was noticeably
absent, and she decided that a brisk walk with Tatters might help clear her mind.

Tatters showed his excitement by dragging her down the driveway, until she dug in her heels and ordered him to “Stay!”

He paused, looking back at her with an expression that clearly said,
Are you kidding me?

“I’m in charge of this walk,” Clara told him as she started down the street, holding him back on a short leash. “So, either you do exactly what I tell you, or we go straight back home and you can spend the rest of the day in the utility room.”

Tatters glanced back at her over his shoulder and trotted obediently a few paces in front of her.

She was so busy watching the dog she failed to notice the red Ferrari pulling up at the curb ahead of her. It wasn’t until the stocky figure of the mayor climbed out and patted Tatters on the head that she realized he had intentionally stopped to speak to her.

Dazzled by the magnificence of the sports car, she hauled the dog closer.

“Good morning.” Carson Dexter bowed his head in an old-fashioned greeting. “Lovely morning for a walk.”

Clara glanced up at the clouded sky. “Er…yes, it is.”

Carson smiled. “I take it you know who I am?”

Clara nodded.

“In that case, I’m sure you’ll take it seriously when I advise you to quit interfering in police business. Poking around in matters that don’t concern you is not only
unwarranted, it could also be considered an obstruction of justice. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to find yourself facing a judge in court. Have a nice day.”

Clara watched him climb back into the Ferrari and roar down the street, her mind still entranced by the car. As it turned the corner and disappeared, however, the mayor’s words hit her like a brick.

Had he really just threatened to take her to court for simply asking questions? How had he known? Had someone complained to him about her? Could it have possibly been Frank Tomeski’s murderer, afraid she was getting too close?

Shaken, she continued on her walk, her resolve growing with every step. No one, not even the mayor of Finn’s Harbor, was going to stop her investigation. Somehow, she would have to find out who told him she’d been asking questions.

One thing was for certain. She wouldn’t vote for Carson Dexter for governor, even if he were running against a gorilla.

She was still fuming when she left the house for the bookstore, after settling Tatters down in her room with the radio on and a bone to chew.

Molly and Stephanie were both serving customers when Clara arrived at the Raven’s Nest. She’d meant to get there early so she would have enough time to pay a visit to the hardware store. Given the mood she was in, however, it was just as well she’d left too late to talk to Rick.

She stashed her purse behind the counter and quickly
checked the morning’s receipts. It looked as if the Raven’s Nest had been busy. She was about to join her cousin in the aisles when she heard the
ping
of the doorbell. Looking up, her stomach took a nosedive when she saw the chief of police.

Dan Petersen was a jovial-looking man, especially when dressed as casually as he was now, though his ice blue eyes could freeze someone into silence with one glance. He ran a tight police force and was respected by the vast majority of the community. There wasn’t much that got past Dan, and Clara was well aware of his perceptive abilities as he halted in front of her, his mouth tilted in a half smile.

“How’s the bookselling business?”

“Pretty good.” Clara waved a hand at the aisles. “The fantasy books are doing real well. It’s a popular genre right now.”

“Ah.” Dan nodded, his hands behind his back. “Vampires and all that stuff.”

“Some of it, yes.” Clara tilted her head to one side. “Did you want to look at some?”

“Vampires?” Dan gave a mock shudder. “No, thanks.” He looked around. “I did want a word or two with you and your cousin. Is she around?”

Clara glanced nervously down an aisle. “She’s serving a customer at the moment.” She frowned. “Is something wrong?”

Dan pursed his lips. “Depends on how you look at things. I heard you two have been bugging people about the bowling alley murder.”

“Bugging?” Clara shook her head. “I wouldn’t say we were bugging people. Just asking a few questions, that’s all.”

Dan rocked back on his heels. “You know that’s my job, don’t you?”

Clara uttered a shaky laugh. “We’re not trying to be cops. We were just curious.”

“Curious? Hmm.” Dan studied her, making her more uncomfortable as the seconds ticked by. Finally, he added, “I know you were a great help in solving Ana Jordan’s murder last year, but I hope you’re not getting the idea you can do better than the police. You were lucky you weren’t badly hurt, you know.”

Clara gave him a weak smile.

“The mayor thinks you’re taking all this a little too seriously. We’re doing our best to solve this case, and we’re making headway. It might be a good idea to leave the investigating to us.”

Clare stared at him. “You found the murderer?”

“Not yet.” Dan turned toward the door. “But we will.” He paused and looked back at her. “Watch your step, both of you. Murder is a dangerous business.” With that, he opened the door and disappeared into the street.

Clara let out her breath just as Stephanie emerged from the aisle, followed by an elderly woman who muttered something under her breath.

Stephanie rolled her eyes at Clara and hurried over to the counter. “Yes, Mrs. Riley, I know books are expensive,
but they give us so much pleasure, they’re worth every penny.”

“I don’t know how I can afford to read anymore,” the woman grumbled, handing over a credit card. “Everything’s going up, except my pension.”

Stephanie rang up the purchase and gave the card back to the woman. “Thank you, Mrs. Riley. It was good to see you again. I hope you enjoy the books.”

Mrs. Riley took the bag Stephanie handed her and headed for the door, nodding at Clara as she passed. “They help keep my mind off things,” she said as Clara opened the door for her. “I don’t watch the news anymore. Too many terrible things going on. It scares me to death.” She nodded at the hardware store. “I don’t know how you young women can work here with a murderer just across the street.”

Clara was about to open her mouth and tell the old bat how wrong she was when she caught sight of Stephanie frantically shaking her head. She closed her mouth again and gave the woman a tight smile. Waiting until the door closed behind Mrs. Riley, she let out her breath in an explosive, “Ignorant old woman!”

Stephanie rushed over to her. “I’m glad you didn’t say anything to her. You know how she gossips all over town. I didn’t want her telling everyone we’re trying to solve the case and tip off the killer.”

“It’s too late,” Clara said, running her fingers through her bangs. “According to Dan and our esteemed mayor, news of our investigation is all over town.”

Stephanie’s jaw dropped. “How do you know?”

“Carson Dexter came to my house this morning and stopped me on the street. He warned me we could be charged with obstruction of justice and interfering in police business.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Stephanie looked over her shoulder as if worried who might overhear. “What did Dan say?”

“He strongly suggested we leave the investigating to him.”

“Crap. We’d better hold off on asking questions, then.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Clara wandered over to the counter. “We don’t have anyone else to ask.”

“We need to sit down and talk about what we know so far. Maybe something we haven’t thought about will pop up.”