Mind Over Murder (6 page)

That, Clara thought, as she opened the dishwasher, was never going to happen. No one would ever know that she’d inherited the Quinn Sense. No one except Stephanie, anyway. And even Stephanie didn’t know the real reason she’d left New York. That was something else she intended to keep to herself.

Shutting down the painful memories, she placed the glass on the rack and closed the dishwasher.

Clara arrived at the Raven’s Nest shortly before noon the next day. The yellow tape and the notice had been taken down, and the store seemed crowded with teens and parents taking advantage of the back-to-school sale.

Clara was relieved to see Molly standing behind the counter, ringing up a purchase for a couple of young customers. She looked up without her usual smile as Clara approached. “Steph’s in the back,” she said, jerking her head in that direction. “Talking to Mrs. Riley.” She handed the bag of books over to the giggling girls and waited for them to leave before adding, “She didn’t want me helping her. Can you believe that?”

Clara raised her eyebrows. “Stephanie?”

Molly rolled her eyes. “No, Mrs. Riley. She said she’d feel more comfortable if Steph found her a book. I guess she thinks I killed Ana, and now she’s afraid of me.”

“That’s nonsense.” Clara walked behind the counter and stashed her purse on a shelf. “Dan would never have let you go if he thought you were a murderer.”

“That’s just it.” Molly turned mournful green eyes on her. “He does think I did it. He just can’t prove it.”

“Did he say that?”

Molly picked up a stack of bookmarks and started loading them into a wooden holder. “Someone told him I threatened Ana that morning.”

“Yes, but—”

“He said that I was the last one to leave the store and the only one with a key. There was no sign of a break-in. He thinks Ana was mad at Stephanie and came into the store meaning to cause damage or something and that I tried to stop her.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s what everyone else is thinking, too. The whole town believes I murdered Ana.”

“Of course they don’t.” Clara put an arm about Molly’s shoulders and gave her a hug. “We know you didn’t do it, and anyone who knows you will know it, too.”

“A lot of people heard me yelling at her yesterday.”

“That doesn’t mean you killed her.”

Molly’s eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t like her, Clara, but I’d never want her dead. I didn’t kill her, I swear it.”

The words seemed to fill Clara’s mind, swirling around and settling down like snowflakes tossed by the wind. The voice in her head whispered, soft and insistent. She shut it down, refusing to listen. “I know you didn’t,” she said, squeezing Molly’s shoulders again before letting her go. “And so will everyone else.”

As if to contradict her, Mrs. Riley’s voice rang out loud and clear as she walked up the aisle with Stephanie. “I’m not giving my credit card to that young woman. I just don’t trust her.”

“I’ll see to it,” Stephanie said, and hurried up to the counter. “Molly, would you please stock the cookbook shelves for me? There’s some boxes that came in last week. I left them under the table over there.”

Molly gave Clara a look that clearly said,
I told you so
, and hurried off.

Clara smiled at the elderly woman as she reached the counter. “I’ll take that for you,” she said, holding out her hand.

The woman scowled at her. “Who are you?”

“This is my cousin, Clara Quinn.” Stephanie hurried around the counter. “You must remember her. She went to New York to live, but she’s back now.” She looked at Clara. “You remember Mrs. Riley, don’t you?”

Clara exchanged a meaningful glance with her. She remembered the woman all right. The town gossip. If you wanted to dig up dirt on people in town, you asked Mrs. Riley. “Of course,” she said, still smiling. “It’s nice to see you again, Mrs. Riley.”

“Do I know you?” Mrs. Riley peered closer. “Oh, yes, now I see. You look older.” She ran a critical glance over Clara. “Lost weight, too. You must have been starving in New York City.”

Clara held on to her smile. “May I take your card?”

Mrs. Riley handed over her card, and Clara rang up the purchase. After slipping the book into a bag, she held it out to the impatient woman.

Mrs. Riley practically snatched it out of her hand. “Thank you, and if you want my advice, you’ll get rid of that nasty-tempered witch before she does something dreadful to someone else.” She marched off, sticking her nose in the air as she passed Molly on her way out.

“What did I tell you?” Stephanie demanded, her voice low and fierce. “Everyone thinks Molly killed Ana. We have to find out who really did it. Dan’s convinced it was Molly; he’s not even going to look for anyone else. She
needs
us, Clara! She needs the Quinn Sense!”

Clara winced. This was exactly what she’d been afraid of—being forced to deal with the dratted curse again. All her life she’d been unable to say no to her cousin, even when she knew it would end badly. This time certainly seemed to be no exception.

Stephanie’s pleading eyes, however, were impossible to ignore. “All right. We’ll look into it, though I don’t know what we can do that Dan can’t. You do know that messing in police business, especially murder, can get us in a whole lot of trouble?”

Stephanie’s smile wavered on her face. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Maybe not,” Clara said grimly, “but this could be real trouble. The kind where you get hurt. Or worse.”

Stephanie looked across the room to where Molly stood, head down, her face hidden by her hair. “If it will help to clear Molly’s name, it’ll be worth the risk.”

“What about George? What will he say when he finds out you’re hunting down a killer?”

Stephanie shrugged. “I’ll tell George what he needs to know. Besides, you’ll have to do most of the legwork. I see myself as more on the idea side of things.

“Gee, thanks.” Clara twisted her mouth in a wry smile. “Just like old times.”

“Yeah, just like old times.” Stephanie put an arm around her cousin. “You used to be so good at using the Sense. Do you remember when you told me that George was going to dump Ana for me?”

Clara sighed. “I remember. You refused to believe me and actually accused me of trying to stir up trouble between you and George.”

“I know.” Stephanie rubbed her fingers across her forehead. “It just seemed so utterly impossible. George had never spoken a word to me. He was a huge basketball star, and in those days Ana was a real hottie. She knew all the tricks and I knew nothing.”

“Ah, but the voices were telling me that George was getting tired of Ana’s antics and had his eye on you. It was just a matter of time before he made his move.”

Stephanie clasped her hands in front of her throat. “And he did. The Quinn Sense never lies.”

“No, it just disappears when you need it the most.”

Stephanie’s smile faded. “You’ll get it all back. I know it.”

Clara sincerely hoped not. “You’re determined to do this, then.”

“With or without you. I just hope it’s with you. You know, two heads and all that.”

“I’ll help on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

Clara turned back to the counter. “At the first sign of real danger, we call Dan.”

“Agreed.”

“And no more talk about the Quinn Sense.”

“But—”

Clara held up her hand. “No buts. Now let’s go tell Molly we’re going to try and clear her name.”

Tears welled in Molly’s eyes when Stephanie told her they wanted to find the killer. “I’ll help,” she told them, hugging each of them in turn. “Just tell me what to do.”

“Well, nothing for the moment,” Stephanie said, as the bell jangled on the door, signaling another customer. “But as soon as we get a break, we’ll sit down and discuss our strategy. Right now, though, someone has to clean up the mess in the stockroom. No one’s set foot in there since the police were here, and we need to get the new stock on the shelves.”

Molly’s face lost its color, and she swallowed. “I’ll do it. I may puke, though.”

Clara took a deep breath. “I’ll help. It won’t be so bad if we both do it.”

Molly sent her a grateful look. “You two are the best friends anyone could ask for, and I hope you know how much this means to me.”

“We’re doing what’s right,” Stephanie said, patting her on the shoulder. “We know you didn’t kill Ana, and that means someone else did. He’s not going to get away with it. We might not be able to arrest him or anything, but maybe if we find out enough about what happened, we can help Dan to go after him.”

Molly twitched her eyebrows. “I just don’t know what you can really do if Dan wasn’t able to find anything.”

“Exactly,” Clara murmured.

Stephanie ignored her. “People are more likely to talk to us than Dan. Most people are afraid to say too much to the police, in case it gets them into trouble.”

Molly nodded, her face brightening just a little. “You’re right. Besides, you can do things and go places the police can’t go without a warrant or something.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Okay, Clara. Let’s go tackle that stockroom.”

It was almost at the end of Molly’s shift before things quieted down in the bookstore long enough for them all to sit down with a cup of coffee in the Reading Nook.

Stephanie settled back in the comfy armchair with a long sigh. “It’s been a busy day. Everyone’s heard about what happened to Ana, and they’re coming in to satisfy their curiosity.”

“I know.” Clara leaned forward to straighten the magazines on the low table. “They all want to talk about the murder. They get miffed when I tell them I don’t know any more than they do. Like I’m hiding something from them.”

“They think you’re protecting me,” Molly said, staring down at her feet. “They’re all avoiding me. I feel like a leper. One of the untouchables.”

“Don’t worry.” Stephanie leaned forward to touch her arm. “We’ll clear your name. Won’t we, Clara?”

Clara caught her breath. “That reminds me, I might have a suspect.”

“You do?”

“Who is it?”

They’d both spoken at once, and Clara looked over her shoulder to make sure they were alone. “John Halloran. Well, I guess he’s not really a suspect, but he certainly had a motive. He had good reason to hate Ana.”

Stephanie slumped her shoulders. “So did half the people in town.”

“Ah, but half the people in town didn’t lose a business and a marriage because of Ana’s lies.”

Molly sat up. “How did she manage to do all that?”

Clara repeated a shortened version of what her mother had told her.

“John’s a regular customer here,” Stephanie said. “He comes in all the time. I know he’s a little weird, but he seems like such a quiet man—not at all the kind of person who would kill someone.”

“Few people do.” Clara stretched out her legs and wiggled her aching toes. “Everyone has his breaking point, though. John Halloran could have been harboring resentment all this time, and some little thing could easily have set him off.”

“Like what?”

Clara shrugged. “I don’t know. Something Ana said to him, or something he heard somewhere.”

Stephanie considered that for a moment before answering. “Well, if that’s so, he’s not the only one. I know someone else who suffered because of Ana’s lies.”

Molly’s eyes gleamed with hope. “Who?”

“Rick Sanders.”

Clara stared at her. “The guy across the street?”

“Yep. He used to work for Ana’s father, Henry. That was before this store existed. This used to be part of Jordan’s Stationer’s, remember?”

“Of course I do. I remember when Ana sold off this part of the building after her father died.”

Stephanie uttered a soft gasp. “Maybe that’s how Ana got into the stockroom. If our two stores used to be all one building, and the locks were never changed, she could still have had keys to the Raven’s Nest.”

Clara sat up. “So could anyone who has worked for her.”

Both women stared at her as if she’d just announced the end of the world.

“Oh, wow,” Molly whispered.

Eyes gleaming, Stephanie nodded. “That does explain a few things. I remember George telling me that Ana’s father had left her a load of debt and she had to sell the annex to help keep the store afloat.”

“Well, I’m glad she did,” Molly said, looking around. “I love the Raven’s Nest, and so do most of the people in this town.”

“But what about Rick Sanders?” Clara leaned forward. “What lies did Ana tell about him?”

“Well, according to George, who heard it from a couple of people, Ana fired Rick right after she took over the store. She more or less accused him of stealing from her father, which accounted for the bad debts. Rick swore he never took anything. He said she fired him because she was afraid he’d buy her out. Apparently, he had money from an inheritance, and he knew more about how that store was run than she did.”

Molly gasped. “I can’t believe that no one ever took that woman to court.”

Stephanie shrugged. “Well, I guess there was no way to prove it. George said that Ana was clever and never actually came right out and said anything specific. She just sort of hinted, and people took it from there. Anyway, it was her word against Rick’s, and Ana grew up in Finn’s Harbor. Everyone knew her. Rick was the stranger in town.”

“Well, it didn’t stop him from eventually taking over his own store, right across the street,” Molly said. “He’s doing pretty well with it, too, from what I hear.” She yawned and looked at her watch. “Only I don’t see what any of this has to do with Ana’s murder. Rick’s a nice guy. He doesn’t seem like a killer any more than John Halloran does.”

“You can never tell what a person is really like unless you live with him.” Clara was unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Meeting Stephanie’s curious stare, she added quickly, “I guess there’s a lot of people in town who had a reason to hate Ana Jordan, and that just makes it all the harder to figure out who killed her.”