Extra Sensory Deception (5 page)

“Hi, Tim! You talking about the rodeo?”

Tim turned his head as Molly came up behind him. Looking sheepish, he murmured, “Just chatting. Have you seen it yet?”

“No, I’m going tonight.” Molly dumped a pile of books on the counter. “I can’t wait. It should be a blast.”

“Well, guess I should be going.” Tim headed for the door. “Stay out of trouble.”

Molly frowned as the door closed behind him. “Was he talking to you or me?”

“Both of us, I guess.” Clara pointed at the books. “What are they?”

Molly grinned. “Books.”

“I can see that. Why are they on the counter?”

“I can’t figure out if they should go in the sci-fi section or the fantasy section.”

Clara picked up one of the books. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell. It helps if you remember that sci-fi is based on science and technology, and is usually related to what’s real, while fantasy is imaginary and related to stuff that doesn’t exist.”

“Wow.” Molly looked impressed. “That’s major.” She chose another book from the pile. “I guess I should read the back blurbs.”

“Well, usually either Stephanie or I stock the shelves, so you haven’t had much practice. If you do it often enough, after a while you’ll be able to spot which is which.” Clara placed the book back on the pile. “If in doubt, you can always check the reviews online.”

“Thanks, I’ll do that.” Molly gave her a sly glance. “So are you and Stephanie going to investigate the rodeo murder?”

“No, we’re not.” Clara moved over to the computer. “This is one crime Dan will have to solve on his own.”

“Too bad. It was fun helping you guys.” Molly picked up the books. “Guess I’ll take these down to the Reading Nook and try to figure out where they go.”

“Okay, but keep an eye out for customers. I have to check the stockroom to see what we need for the high school’s required reading. Let me know if you need help.”

“Will do!” Molly sailed out of sight.

Alone in the stockroom, Clara tried not to think about the murder. Dwelling on crimes tended to trigger a vision, and she’d had enough of those in the past two days. It was up to Dan now to find out if Rick’s buddy was involved.

Thinking about Rick was much more pleasant. As if she’d conjured him up, Molly opened the stockroom door a short time later and announced, “This is one customer you’ll want to take care of yourself.”

Rick appeared behind Molly, peering over her shoulder. “There you are. I thought you might have gone home.” He edged around her and stepped inside.

“Not until closing time.” Clara nodded at Molly, who closed the door with a lewd wink. “Did you need something?”

“Just wanted to talk.” He glanced around at the boxes, packages and piles of books. “Looks like you’ll be keeping busy. Does all this stuff have to go out on the shelves?”

“Not all of it. Some of it is returns. They have to be stripped and the covers sent back for refunds.”

“Ouch.” He winced. “Destroying books seems like such a sacrilege.”

“I know what you mean.” She studied his face. “You didn’t come here to discuss books, though.”

“No, I didn’t.” He stuck his hands in his pants pockets. “Dan let Wes go.”

“Oh, I’m so glad.” She hesitated, knowing from his expression that all was not well. “He’s cleared him?”

“Not exactly.” He sighed. “They don’t have enough evidence to hold him, that’s all. Which means he’s still under suspicion. As you know, I’ve been there and I know only too well what that’s like. All those weird looks from people you thought were your friends. The feeling that nobody trusts you, or worse, that they’re afraid of you.” His shoulders slumped. “Wes said that even the guys in the rodeo are avoiding him. This could end his career.”

Clara briefly laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Rick. I know you’re worried about him. Like I said, if he’s innocent, the truth will come out eventually.”

“I know he didn’t do it.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I hate to ask this, because it could mean trouble for you, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“You want me to ask questions.”

His mouth twitched in a wry smile. “You do seem to have a way of finding out stuff. People talk to you and tell you things they wouldn’t tell a cop. I’m not asking you to track down the killer. I don’t want you putting yourself in danger again. I just want to know the answer to a couple of questions, that’s all. Then maybe I can take it from there.”

“Like what?”

“Anita Beaumont. She’s a barrel racer. From what Wes told me, she knows more about Lisa than anyone. She didn’t have much to say to Tim when he questioned her, but maybe she’ll open up to another woman.”

Clara hesitated. Her vision of a man in a red shirt standing over Lisa’s body was still fresh in her mind. What if she asked questions and got answers that incriminated Wes even further?

The anguish in Rick’s eyes, however, was too painful to ignore. “All right. What do you want me to ask her?”

Rick pulled her into his arms for a quick hug, then let her go. “Thank you. Just promise me you won’t go chasing after clues and stuff.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

“Good. Anita might know why Lisa went to the concert stage in the first place. She must have been meeting someone there. Wes swears it wasn’t him. So we need to know who it was.”

“Okay, I’ll ask.”

“See if you can find out who else was interested in Lisa. According to Tim, she was pretty hot stuff. Wes wasn’t the only one who was chasing her.”

“So Wes really was attracted to her?”

“Yeah.” Rick looked uncomfortable. “He’s pretty broken up about the whole thing. It’s bad enough that he had to lose her that way, but to be accused of killing her is just about destroying him.”

“I’ll do what I can.” Right then she would have done anything to take away the misery on his face. “Where can I find Anita?”

“She shares a trailer with another contestant, Melosa Sanchez. They’re parked in a field behind the fairgrounds. If you go over there in the morning you should be able to find her around somewhere. I’ll come with you if you like, but I figure she’ll talk more freely without me looking over your shoulder.”

“It’s okay. I’ll take Stephanie with me.” Clara crossed her fingers that her cousin would go along. “She’s good at getting women to talk.”

“Thanks.” He pulled her close again. “Just be careful, okay?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take Tatters along, too. He’ll protect us.”

“Now I feel better.” He grinned. “How’s the monster doing, anyway? Still keeping your mom on her toes?”

“That goes for both of us.” She tilted her head to one side. “Did you hear that?”

Rick lifted his chin. “Hear what?”

“I’m not sure.” She listened for a moment, then shook her head. “I might be imagining things, but I keep thinking I hear a noise. A sort of scuffling sound. But when I listen for it, I can never hear it.”

“Could be a mouse. Or a rat.”

Clara shivered. “Don’t think the thought hasn’t crossed my mind.”

“You might want to get an exterminator in here.”

“I’ll talk to Stephanie about it. I—” A loud rapping on the door interrupted her.

Molly’s muffled voice declared, “I need help!”

“Gotta go.” Clara darted to the door. “I’ll let you know what happens tomorrow.”

He followed her out, then waved good-bye as he went out the front door.

Clara was busy with customers for the rest of the day, and by the time she was ready to close up, her feet ached and all she could think about was getting home. Not that she’d get to rest, since Tatters would be dancing on toenails waiting to go for his walk. First, however, she had to eat something. Her stomach felt like a deflated balloon.

Jessie wasn’t home, and had left a note with a reminder that she was at her book club. She’d also left a salad in the fridge, and Clara sat down to enjoy it, with Tatters lying at her feet, ears twitching with every sound she made.

When she stood up to take her plate to the sink, he sat up.
About time. Now we walk.

“Yes, your majesty. Just as soon as I’ve cleaned up here.”

Tatters stood, yawned, then strolled out of the kitchen.

Shaking her head, Clara rinsed her plate and placed it in the dishwasher. Stopping by the fridge, she grabbed a bottle of water and took it out into the living room. The dog had disappeared—he was probably waiting for her at the front door.

She grabbed the leash and her light jacket and walked out into the hallway. Sure enough, Tatters sat by the front door, muscles tensed to spring the minute she opened it. “Let’s go, buddy,” she said, as she fastened the leash to the dog’s collar. “I have to talk to Stephanie when we get back.” Tomorrow she faced the task of questioning a woman who so far had been uncooperative. She needed Stephanie by her side.

Anxious to talk to her cousin, she cut Tatters’ run on the beach shorter than usual, much to his disgust. He showed his displeasure by dragging on the leash all the way home, stopping continually to sniff at tree trunks, poles, water hydrants and anything else that looked vaguely interesting.

Finally losing her patience, Clara yelled at him, “Quit this right now! Either you keep moving or there’s no bedtime treat.”

Tatters sniffed, stuck his nose in the air and set off at a pace that kept her running the rest of the way.

Once inside the house, she unhooked his leash and, breathing hard, headed for her bedroom. He followed close behind her and jumped up on the bed, scrabbling at the comforter to find the perfect spot. Ignoring him, she sat on the edge and tapped Stephanie’s number on her cell phone.

Her cousin answered on the second ring. “Good timing. I just got the kids to bed. We can actually talk without interruption.”

Clara smiled. “That’ll make a change.” Most of her conversations with Stephanie were punctuated by her cousin yelling at one of her three kids or begging her husband to take care of them. George had little control over his two youngest, who were as wild and unpredictable as their mother had been when she was their age.

“So tell me how the date went with Rick. Did he kiss you good-night?”

“He did, as a matter of fact, though it’s none of your business.”

This went right over Stephanie’s head. “Was it a long, romantic kiss, or just a quick peck on the lips?”

Clara sighed. “If you must know, it was short and sweet. We were both shaken up by the murder and in no mood for any romantic stuff.”

“Oh, phooey. I was hoping for all the juicy details.”

“Even if there had been juicy details, I wouldn’t be telling you about them. There are some things that are sacred.”

“But—”

“Speaking of the murder, I have a favor to ask you.”

To Clara’s relief, her cousin abandoned her inquisition. Her voice brightened considerably when she answered, “Are we going to hunt down another killer?”

“No!” Clara softened her tone. “At least, not directly. Rick just wants me to talk to one of the barrel racers tomorrow morning. I thought you might like to come along. That’s if Molly doesn’t mind holding down the fort again.”

“She won’t mind. We shouldn’t be that busy.” Stephanie’s voice changed. “I don’t understand. Why does Rick want you to talk to a barrel racer?”

Clara hesitated, then decided the news would probably be out by tomorrow. “Dan took Wes Carlton in for questioning today.”

“Wes who?”

“Carlton. Rick’s buddy in the rodeo.”

“Oh, wow. I bet Rick’s upset about that.”

“He is. They released Wes, but until the killer is caught, people are bound to think Wes is guilty. Rick’s afraid it will ruin Wes’s career.”

“Why did they arrest him in the first place?”

“Apparently he had an argument with the woman earlier that afternoon, he doesn’t have an alibi for the time of the murder and it was his pigging string that was used to strangle her.”

“Hmm.” Stephanie paused, then added, “What the heck’s a picking string?”

“Pigging.” Clara spelled it out. “The contestants use it to tie down the calves.”

“Poor things.” Again the long pause. “Are you sure this Wes guy didn’t do it?”

“Nope. But Rick is, and I respect his judgment.”

“Well, I hope he’s right, ’cos I’d hate to get involved and have Dan come down hard on us like he always does and then we find out the guy is guilty after all. That would really take a spoke out of Dan’s wheel. He’d probably throw us in jail.”

“That’s a chance we’ll have to take.” Clara hesitated before adding, “Or I will. I’ll understand if you’d rather stay out of this one.”

“Are you kidding? And let you go off into the valley of death without me? No way, cuz. I’m in, for good or bad. Like always.”

Clara smiled. “Thanks. I really don’t want to do this without you.”

“You won’t have to. So Rick wants us to ask questions at the rodeo? I’ve been wondering what it’s like. The rodeo, I mean. I tried to talk George into taking me, but he’s not the least bit interested. He said I should go with you, but you’ve already seen it, and I don’t know anyone else I’d want to go with.”

“Well, you can go backstage with me tomorrow morning. That’s the next best thing.”

“Can’t wait.” Stephanie mumbled something under her breath. “I can hear Michael and Olivia arguing. Gotta go. What time tomorrow?”

“I’ll pick you up at the bookstore. Around ten? That’ll give us a couple of hours before I have to start my shift.”

“Sounds good.”

Stephanie clicked off, and Clara laid the phone on her bedside table. Glancing at Tatters, she saw the intent look in his eyes. “Yes, you’re going, too.”

The sound of the front door opening turned both their heads. Clara got up from the bed. “Come on, boy. Let’s say good-night to Mom.” Then, she promised herself, she’d get some sleep. Tomorrow promised to be an interesting day.

Stephanie was behind the counter when Clara arrived at the bookstore the next morning. Her cousin was scrabbling through a drawer, shaking her head and muttering to herself.

“What are you looking for?” Clara leaned across the counter. “Can I help?”

“I don’t think so.” Stephanie shut the drawer with an exasperated sigh. “John Halloran was in here a while ago. He swears he put in an order for the Knights of Wisdom series, but it’s not in the computer. He said he wrote it down and gave it to me, but I can’t find it anywhere.” She looked at Clara, her face a picture of misery. “Am I getting senile?”

Clara smiled. “Of course not. You’re just a very busy wife, mother and bookstore owner. You work most mornings, and the rest of the time you’re chasing around after that family of yours. No wonder things get misplaced.”

Stephanie shook her head. “I used to manage better than this.”

“You probably need a vacation.” Clara looked around. The cookbooks were neatly displayed on their table, the end displays were full of the latest releases, the stand next to the door held an assortment of postcards, bookmarks and calendars and the smell of coffee wafted up from the Reading Nook. “It looks like everything here is under control. Is Molly around?”

“I’ll call her.” Stephanie rang the bell on the counter and a moment later Molly appeared from the aisles.

She bounded forward when she saw Clara. “There you are. I never got to see the rodeo after all. Dan shut down last night’s show because of the murder investigation. Have you heard anything more about it?”

“Not yet.” Clara sent her cousin a warning glance. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to see the rodeo.”

Molly shrugged. “No prob. They’re putting on an extra show on Monday afternoon for everyone who missed it last night. That way they can keep up with the events schedule.”

“Great. Then you’ll see it after all.”

“Yeah. So where are you two off to?”

Clara tried to sound casual. “We have to take care of a couple of things. I hope you don’t mind being on your own for an hour or two?”

Molly grinned. “No, I like it. Gives me a feeling of power.”

“Come on then, Steffie.” Clara headed for the door.

“Are you two investigating the murder?”

Clara briefly closed her eyes. She might have known she couldn’t keep it a secret from Molly. “Not investigating exactly. Just asking questions.”

“Cool.” Molly’s eyes glistened with excitement. “Let me know if I can help.”

“Will do. Thanks!” Clara tilted her head toward the door, signaling her cousin to get a move on.

Stephanie grabbed her purse and joined Clara at the door. “I’ll have my cell on, so call me if you need help with anything.”

“I’ll be fine.” Molly looked wistful. “Go have fun out there.”

“We’ll try.” Stephanie sailed out the door behind her cousin.

Together they hurried down the hill to the parking lot, where Clara had left her car. Already the sun warmed the sidewalks, and just a couple of fluffy white clouds dotted the sky. Between the buildings at the end of the street she could see the wide expanse of blue-green water. Here and there a yacht glided gracefully across the waves, and in the distance a cargo ship chugged along the horizon.

Clara pulled off her jacket and slung it over her arm. “I hope we can find this Anita person. Rick says she’s staying in a trailer in a field behind the fairgrounds, but if she’s not there when we get there I guess we’ll have to look for her.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem, should it?” They’d reached the car, and Stephanie pulled open the passenger door.

“I don’t know if they’ll let us wander around the place.”

“We could always pretend we’re groupies looking for autographs.”

Clara pulled a face. “I can’t imagine that’ll get us far.” She climbed in and closed the door. “We could say we’re friends of Wes, I guess.”

“If he’s under suspicion for murder, that’s probably not going to help much.”

“Woof!” Tatters said in agreement from the backseat.

Stephanie uttered a little shriek. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing the monster.”

Hey!
Tatters stuck his nose into her neck, making her shriek again.

Clara gave him a stern look. “Behave.”

Tatters grumbled deep in his throat.

Clara scowled, and the dog sat back on the seat.

“So much for my allergies,” Stephanie said, slumping her shoulders.

“You keep saying that, and I keep telling you, you don’t have allergies.”

“Well, my kids do.”

“They’re not here.”

“No, but I’ll be taking dog hairs in with me.”

Clara started the engine, turning on the air conditioner so that cool air filtered throughout the car. “You always said you felt safer with Tatters along.”

Yeah, so how about that, Miss Fusspot?

Clara gave him another reproving glance.

“I do, I guess. I just wish he wouldn’t shed hairs all over me.”

“Well, let’s hope we won’t need him and he can stay in the car.” Clara nosed the car into the street and took off down the rest of the hill.

Mercifully, Tatters was quiet as they drove along the coast road. Gazing at the heaving water, Clara wished she were walking along the beach instead of heading into another murder investigation.

She was doing this for Rick, she reminded herself, as they reached the fairgrounds and followed the gravel road into the field behind.

The rides and booths had been set up across from the stadium, and people strolled around, most hanging onto kids bouncing along with excitement. Shrieks and screams erupted from the roller coaster and the parachute ride, almost drowned out by the music blaring from the bumper cars and carousel.

Clara parked the car and turned to Tatters, who was watching the scene with intense concentration. “Stay,” she said firmly. “We won’t be long.”

The dog looked at her with soulful eyes.
Why can’t I go with you?

“Not now.”

Stephanie stared at her. “Not now what?”

Clara hastily wound down all four windows. “Nothing. I was just talking to myself.”

“The first signs of senility.” Stephanie climbed out of the car and shut the door. “You do that a lot,” she added when Clara had joined her.

“Do what?”

“Talk to yourself. Especially when you’re with that dog.” Stephanie’s eyes narrowed. “Or maybe you’re talking to the dog, like he’s human or something.”

“Everyone talks to their dogs like they’re humans. If you had one, you’d know.”

“I have a cat. I don’t think he’s human.”

“Cats are different.” Clara nudged her cousin’s arm. “Let’s go find those trailers.”

Passing by the rides, she could now see the trailers dotting the grass at the far end of the field. A couple of cowboys sat on the steps of an RV, and a young woman led a horse over to a corral where several other horses were grazing. Another woman followed her with two black labs trotting at her side.

Clara led her cousin over to the RV, where the cowboys were in deep conversation. Pausing in front of them, she said brightly, “Excuse me! Could you tell me where I can find Anita Beaumont?”

Both heads turned in her direction and studied her in silence for so long, Clara began to feel uncomfortable.

Finally one of them drawled, “You the law?”

“Oh no.” Clara glanced at her cousin for help but Stephanie was gazing at the men as if she’d never seen a cowboy before. “We . . . er . . . just want to talk to her, that’s all. We’re friends of Wes Carlton.”

The men’s expressions changed, and she wished she hadn’t mentioned Wes’s name.

One of the men jerked his thumb in the direction of the corral. “Anita’s over there. She’s the redhead.”

Clara followed the direction of his thumb. The woman had reached the corral and was herding her horse through the gate. The sun gleamed on her long, auburn hair. The woman behind her was dark-haired and taller, and she paused at the fence while the dogs wandered off to sniff at the grass.

“Thanks.” Clara grabbed Stephanie’s arm and headed for the corral.

As they stepped over power cables and water hoses, the strains of a country song from someone’s radio followed them.

“Good thing you left Tatters in the car,” Stephanie said, nodding at the two dogs. “He could have started a riot with those two.” She sniffed the air. “I can smell bacon.”

“And coffee. Just as well we already had breakfast.”

“I’m still hungry.”

“You’ll have to wait for lunch.”

The two rodeo women were inside the corral now, watching the horses. Clara slowed her step. She wished now she’d rehearsed her speech. How do you go about asking a woman if her dead friend was having an affair?

Reaching the fence, she muttered, “I’ll do the talking. You jump in if things get awkward.”

“What else?” Stephanie waved at the women, who had turned to look at them. “Hi, there! Nice horses.”

The two women glanced at each other, but neither answered Stephanie’s greeting.

“This is going to be fun,” Clara muttered to Stephanie as she forced a smile. “We’re friends of Wes Carlton,” she called out. “Could we have a word with you?”

Anita said something to the other woman, then walked slowly toward the fence. Her freckled face was taut with suspicion, and her full lips were clamped so tightly together Clara doubted she’d ever get a word out of her.

Anita Beaumont had the strong, slender build of an athlete, though that heavy mop of red hair made her look more like a shampoo model. The wariness in her hazel eyes betrayed her uneasiness, and she paused in front of the cousins, waiting in silence for them to speak.

Clara decided to take the soft approach. “I’m so sorry for your loss. I know Lisa Warren was a good friend. It must be hard, going on with the show without her.”

Confusion flashed in Anita’s eyes. “Who said she was my friend?”

Clara stumbled over her words. “Er . . . Wes did. I think.”

Anita’s thin brows drew together. “Wes said that?” She shook her head. “I knew her, sure. Most of us regulars on the circuit knew Lisa. She was with the rodeo for years before she went to work for Paul Eastcott. She’s no friend of mine, though, and Wes knows it.” Her expression changed to one of guilt. “Of course I’m sorry she’s dead. No one deserves to die that way.”

“Exactly.” Clara smiled. “We’ve been wondering who could have possibly done this terrible thing.”

Anita’s frown deepened. “Did you know Lisa?”

Clara hesitated and Stephanie answered for her. “No, but we know Wes, and we don’t think he was capable of killing anyone.”

“So what exactly do you want from me?”

“Just some answers.” Clara leaned an elbow on the fence in an effort to look nonchalant. “Like if anyone else might have had a reason to get rid of Lisa.”

Anita’s chin came up. “Okay, that’s it. Just because I used to be jealous of Lisa doesn’t mean I killed her. I know the cops found that e-mail I sent her, threatening her if she didn’t stay away from Wes, but that was months ago, when Lisa was still on the circuit and long before she moved to Mittleford. Besides, I have an alibi. The cops already cleared me, and I don’t talk to reporters, so you can just take your questions and—”

“Whoa, wait a minute.” Clara held up her hand. “We’re not accusing you of anything. And we’re not cops or reporters. We’re just good friends of Wes who don’t want to see him go to jail for something he didn’t do.”

“She’s right,” Stephanie put in. She briefly laid a hand on Anita’s arm. “If you care at all about Wes, you’ll help us find out who did this.”

Anita stared at her from under thick, dark, mascaraed lashes. “Who exactly are you?”

“We told you,” Clara said, giving Stephanie a grateful nod. “We know the police chief and he’s convinced Wes is guilty. We’d like to show him how wrong he is about all this.”

Now Anita looked worried. “But the cops let Wes go.”

“It doesn’t mean they won’t arrest him later. They’re trying to dig up more evidence against him right now.”

“Well, they won’t get anything out of me.”

Clara sighed. It was beginning to look as if she wouldn’t get anything out of Anita, either. She could tell the woman was hiding something. The Sense voice was buzzing loud and clear in her ear.

There had been a time or two when she’d been able to read someone’s mind, but it was rare. Most of the time, if someone really didn’t want anyone to know what he was thinking, it wasn’t that hard to block his thoughts. All she could tell was that Anita knew something important and wasn’t willing to share it.

“That’s great,” Stephanie said, “but the police are very good at making mountains out of molehills. Wes could be in a lot of trouble while he’s trying to prove his innocence, and all the bad publicity could ruin his career. You might never see him again after all this is over.”

Anita’s eyebrows shot up. “You really think so?

Stephanie solemnly nodded. “I do.”

Anita stared down at her bright blue cowboy boots for several seconds, then reluctantly lifted her head. “All right, I’ll tell you what I know. Only if you swear on God’s green earth that you won’t tell a soul that I told you.”

“You have our sacred promise,” Clara assured her.