Mind Over Murder (10 page)

Again the ache. Clara rubbed her stomach. “I imagine she was trying to let us know that she’s cooked dinner for him or something.”

“
What
?” Stephanie almost choked on the word. “I don’t believe it. Rick would never go for that puffed-up phony. She’s got to be lying.”

Remembering her last conversation with Rick, Clara was inclined to agree. On the other hand, Rick could have said all that stuff about Roberta to hide the fact that they were close. “Not that it matters to us, of course,” she said, knowing deep down that it mattered to her. “It’s none of our business who she invites to dinner.”

“It is our business when they’re both murder suspects.”

“Who’s a suspect?” Molly joined them at the counter. “Who was that just now?”

“That was the new owner of Jordan’s Stationer’s.” Stephanie quickly filled Molly in on everything Frannie had said about Roberta Prince. “It also seems she’s on intimate terms with Rick Sanders,” she said, while Clara pretended not to hear that.

“They could be conspirators,” Molly said, looking hopeful. “Maybe they were working together to get rid of Ana.”

Clara sighed. “All this speculation is getting us nowhere. We need to do something constructive if we’re ever going to find our killer.”

“I thought we were doing something constructive,” Stephanie said, giving her a meaningful look.

“Besides that.” Clara hoped her frown would warn her cousin not to say anything about the Quinn Sense. “For instance, if Molly didn’t let Ana into the store, then someone else must have. Someone who must have had a key, since there was no sign of a break-in.”

Molly’s face brightened. “I would think the new owner would have the keys.”

“She wasn’t the new owner until after Ana died,” Stephanie said.

“We don’t know that.” Clara leaned her elbows on the counter. “What if Ana had already signed over the store to her? She could have given Roberta the keys then.”

Stephanie dismissed that with a wave of her hand. “Then why would Roberta Prince need to kill her?”

“Maybe she killed her for some other reason. Think about it. Roberta took over the store awfully fast after Ana died. I wouldn’t think a business could change hands that quickly, with all the red tape and paperwork involved.”

Molly nodded. “She’s right. It would have taken longer than a couple of days.”

“So let’s assume that Roberta had the keys.” Clara tapped the counter with her fingers while she concentrated. “Also assuming she had a motive, why would she kill Ana in here? Why not in her own store and make it look like a robbery or something?”

“Maybe she wanted to put the blame on someone else.” Stephanie glanced at Molly. “She could have heard about the fight you had with Ana that morning. After all, enough people heard you threaten her. Maybe she lured Ana into the stockroom and hit her over the head with your bust hoping you’d get the blame for it.”

“It’s possible,” Clara said, grasping at any straw that would eliminate Rick Sanders as a suspect.

Stephanie gave her a hard stare. “Anything?”

Knowing that her cousin was asking about the voices, Clara shook her head. Molly’s curious glance unsettled her, and she said quickly, “Okay, so who else might have a key to the store?”

“John Halloran,” Molly said, moving closer to them. “He used to shut up shop for Ana when she was out of town. He must have had a key at some point. He could have kept it all this time.”

Clara grabbed that straw, too. “Right! He could have heard Molly threaten Ana and decided to make use of the key.”

“Also possible,” Stephanie murmured. “But what about Rick Sanders? He used to work for Ana’s father. He could have kept a key as well. He could have easily overheard Molly’s screaming match on Friday morning. He was outside his store, remember?”

Clara’s shoulders sagged. “Right. I remember.”

“So,” Stephanie said brightly, “we are right back where we started. Three suspects, all with possible motives. This is getting really complicated.”

“Well, they could all have had the means,” Molly put in. “The key to the store.”

“Again,” Clara said, “we don’t know that for sure.”

“Which leaves us with opportunity.” Stephanie fixed Clara with another hard stare. “We have to find out if any of our suspects have alibis.”

The doorbell jingled, making them all jump.

Mrs. Riley poked a disapproving face around the door. “I heard you got Wayne Lester’s new book in,” she said, glaring at Molly.

“Yes, we do. I’ll get it for you.” Stephanie twisted around and disappeared down the aisle.

“Keep that woman away from me,” Mrs. Riley said, still hovering in the doorway. “I don’t want her anywhere near me.”

“Don’t worry,” Molly muttered, turning her back on the elderly woman. “I don’t want to be around you, either.”

Clara was about to answer when Stephanie reappeared with the book in her hand. She laid it on the counter, saying to Mrs. Riley, “I’ve heard it’s just as good as his last one.”

The words seemed to ring a bell in Clara’s head. Even as she reached for the book, her hand began to tingle. The voices were soft, quiet, whispering in muffled tones that made no sense.

Out of habit, she began to shut them out, but then she remembered her promise. Closing her eyes, she relaxed her mind, concentrating on the elusive words. Something to do with the book and the words Stephanie had spoken.
I’ve heard it’s just as good as his last one
.

Stephanie had said pretty much the same words to Frannie. Two days ago. The voices whispered louder. Clara frowned, trying to hear them. What were they trying to tell her?

“Well, are you going to stand there all day or are you going to take my money?”

Mrs. Riley’s voice scattered her thoughts. Clara blinked, and the voices faded away. Behind the irritated customer, Stephanie was staring, her face full of expectation.

“I’m sorry.” Clara snatched up the book and slid it across the scanner. “That’ll be twenty-one ninety-five.”

Mrs. Riley uttered a sound of disgust. “Ridiculous price for a book. I could buy three paperbacks for that price.” She snatched the bag from Clara and, still muttering to herself, marched out of the shop.

Stephanie barely waited for the door to close behind her before bounding over to the counter. “You heard something, didn’t you? The Quinn Sense. I saw it in your face.”

Clara sent a wary look at the aisles, but Molly had disappeared. Hopefully, she was finishing her coffee in the Reading Nook. “Shhh!” Clara scowled at her cousin. “You swore you’d keep quiet about that, remember?”

“Sorry.” Stephanie glanced over her shoulder. “I got excited.” She leaned forward and added in a whisper, “You did hear something, though, right?”

Clara gave her a brief nod. “Not much, though. It was more a feeling than actually hearing anything. It had something to do with what you said to Mrs. Riley.”

Stephanie looked bewildered. “Mrs. Riley? Surely you don’t think she could have killed Ana? She’s just a frail old lady.”

“It wouldn’t take much strength to lift that bust and bring it down hard enough to kill.”

Stephanie puffed out her breath. “Now you’re being ridiculous. We’re beginning to suspect everybody who comes into this store. You’ll be saying next that I could have killed Ana.”

Clara tilted her head on one side. “You do have an alibi, don’t you?”

“Of course I do! What—” She broke off with a laugh. “Okay, enough of the dark humor. This is serious business. We have to find out where everybody was that night and what they were doing.” Her expression grew serious. “You have to go out with Rick Sanders now. It’s the only way we can find out where he was.”

Clara rolled her eyes. “I’m leaving. I have an apartment to look at.”

She headed for the door, and Stephanie followed her. “I thought you decided to stay at home with your mom.”

“I changed my mind.” Clara paused at the door. “When I got home last night, I found some of my stuff in my room had been moved around. My dear mother said she was tidying up the house, but I know she was snooping. I’ve got to find somewhere where I can have some privacy.”

Stephanie made a face. “I’m sorry, Clara. I’m sure she’s just concerned about you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not sixteen years old anymore. She can ask me what she needs to know instead of poking around my personal stuff.”

Waving good-bye, Clara stepped out into the street. The familiar smell of damp sand and seaweed greeted her, and she stood for a moment, enjoying the soft touch of the sea breeze on her face.

She’d lost count of the times she’d stood on a busy corner in Manhattan amid the rank odor of diesel fuel, burning tires and exhaust fumes, longing to be back in Finn’s Harbor breathing clean, cool sea air.

Now she was home, with a whole day to enjoy the waning summer, and she intended to do just that. Forget the morbid events of the past few days, ignore the Quinns’ bizarre family gift, if it could be called that, and just be a normal, contented person with a few hours to kill in one of the most picturesque towns in New England. With that, she set off down the hill to her car.

Clara drove along the coast road until she’d left the town of Finn’s Harbor behind. Ahead of her, still out of sight, lay Sealwich Bay, a small fishing port known for its abundance of lobsters.

She hadn’t had a lobster roll since the last time she’d visited from New York, and just the thought of them made her mouth water. The best lobster rolls in the world were made at Hannegan’s, a small restaurant overlooking the ocean, and she couldn’t wait to taste one again.

As the scenery unfolded in a never-ending display of mountains, craggy shoreline and tiny islands dotting the ocean, she reminded herself again how lucky she was to be living in such magnificent and peaceful surroundings.

True, there were occasions when she missed the stores, the theaters and the crowded restaurants of the big city, the excitement of never knowing what was around the corner, the ever-changing scenarios of people from all walks of life and from all over the world filling the crowded sidewalks.

Not enough to go back, however. Right now she was supremely happy to be sailing along the coast road, with nothing but sea and sky to distract her mind.

Pulling into Hannegan’s tiny parking lot, she was pleased to see only two cars and a pickup parked there. That meant she’d have a good chance of a window table.

The spicy aroma from the busy kitchen tantalized her appetite as she pushed open the door and walked inside. A cheerful young woman dressed in a pink uniform showed her to the last vacant table by the window, and Clara settled down to enjoy her lunch.

From where she sat, she could just catch a glimpse of the light twinkling from Cape Neddick’s Light. She watched it, mesmerized by the insistent flash every six seconds, and didn’t notice the tall figure approach her table until he spoke.

“This is a pleasant surprise!”

She looked up, straight into the eyes of Rick Sanders.

For a wild moment she thought Stephanie must have sent him, then remembered her cousin had no idea that she had driven to Sealwich. Realizing she’d gone far too long without answering him, she blurted out, “What are you doing here?”

Apart from a slightly raised eyebrow, Rick seemed unaffected by the abrupt question. “I’m picking up supplies for the store. The warehouse where I get my garden tools only delivers once a week, and I had a run on pitchforks and rakes. Guess people are getting ready for the fall.”

It was none of her business, of course, and all she could do was keep nodding throughout his long explanation. When he paused, she felt obligated to return the favor.

“I came up here for a lobster roll. They make the best ones on the coast here.”

“Ah, well then, I’ll have to give it a shot.” He gestured to the vacant chair opposite her. “Mind if I join you?”

Yes, she did mind. She wanted to be alone, to think things through and decide how she was going to handle her cousin’s daunting expectations of her.

It would be rude to turn him away, though, especially after their previous encounter. Already he was getting the uncomfortable look on his face that people got when they suspected they’d made an embarrassing mistake. “Sure.” She waved a hand at the chair.

He still looked uncertain as he sat down, and she began to feel ashamed of her behavior. Bad enough that she’d practically run away from him in the street. But now she was acting as if he were intruding on her privacy.

In an effort to make amends, she smiled at him. “I hear the hardware store is doing well.”

“It is.” His face relaxed a little. “Then again, I’m the only hardware store in town, so I guess I have a bit of a monopoly.”

“So who’s looking after it now?”

“Oh, I have someone who comes in now and again when I need to take off. John’s an old fogy, but he gets the job done.”

“John?”

She’d asked the question idly, more to keep the conversation going than anything. She was taking a sip of water when he answered.

“John Halloran. He used to own a candy store on Main Street, where the Pizza Parlor is now, so he knows how to handle a store.”

Clara choked on the water, and had to gasp for air, while Rick watched her with an odd expression on his face.

“You okay?” he asked at last, and she nodded.

Her voice sounded hoarse when she answered. “I remember the candy store.”

“Oh, you know John, then.”

“Yes.” She hesitated, then added quickly, “Not very well, though.”

Rick’s gaze seemed to be probing her mind. “Anything I should know?”

She could feel her cheeks growing warm. She couldn’t tell him she suspected John Halloran of murdering Ana Jordan. After all, Rick was a suspect as well. She could hear Stephanie’s voice in her head.
Get what you can out of him
.