Trouble Vision (10 page)

Clara’s stomach took a nosedive when she saw a photo of Scott, Karen and the two girls on the mantel above the fireplace. They looked so happy and carefree, never dreaming that in such a short time their lives would be shattered.

The anger rose up in her again, and with it the vow to find out who was responsible for taking the life of this man.

Karen came back with a tray of cookies and three cups of steaming-hot tea. Putting the tray down on the coffee table, she said, “I’ve had so many people stop by this week. I didn’t realize we had so many friends.” Her voice wobbled and she quickly placed a cup and saucer in front of Clara. “Help yourself to the cookies.”

Stephanie leaned forward and took one. “Thanks. These look good.”

“They’re the girls’ favorites.” Karen glanced at the photo on the mantel. “Scott loved them, too. I always put a couple in his lunch box when I made them.”

Clara looked at Stephanie, who gave her a slight nod. “He must have really loved that lunch box to go back for it that night,” she said, smiling at Karen.

The widow looked puzzled. “His lunch box?”

“Yes.” Now that she’d started the conversation, she wished she didn’t have to finish it. Apparently Karen hadn’t heard why her husband had gone back to the scaffolding on the night he died. “I . . . er . . . we heard that your daughter had given Scott a lunch box and he went back for it because he knew she’d be upset if he came home without it.”

Karen was looking at her as if she’d gone out of her mind. “My daughter never gave her father a lunch box. Scott bought one for himself from Rick’s hardware store when he got the job at the resort project.”

Stephanie made an odd sound, her mouth full of cookie. Clara sent her a warning look and loudly cleared her throat. “Someone must have got it wrong,” she said, reaching for her tea. “You know how these rumors start. Someone says something and someone else hears it differently. Like that telephone game we played when we were kids.” Uncomfortable with the pained expression on Karen’s face, she swallowed her tea too fast and choked. Somehow she managed to put the cup down without spilling anything.

“I’m so sorry,” Stephanie said, having apparently emptied her mouth. “Scott was such a nice man. He didn’t deserve to die in such a stupid accident.”

Karen looked as if she were about to cry. “I haven’t said anything about this before, but I’m getting to the point that if I don’t tell someone soon I’ll go totally out of my mind.” She looked at both cousins in turn. “I hope I can trust you not to repeat anything I tell you.”

“Of course you can.”

“Absolutely.”

They’d both spoken at once, and Karen seemed satisfied with that. “The truth is, Scott was acting really weird the last couple of days before he died. I think he was struggling with some kind of problem.” She picked up her tea, her hand shaking enough to rattle the cup in the saucer. “It must have been huge for him not to tell me what it was. I kept asking him, but he wouldn’t admit he was worried. He said I was imagining things.”

Clara frowned. “Do you think it was about money?”

“That was my first thought, but I don’t think so.” Karen sipped her tea and put down the cup and saucer. “I checked our bank balance and we’re not rich, by any means, but there’s more than enough to pay the bills.” She sighed. “Unless there’s a bill I don’t know about. I can’t find anything in the house, though, so unless he hid it really well, I don’t think this was about money. Whatever it was, it was driving him crazy.” She gulped, and her eyes were full of tears when she looked at Clara. “I hate to say this, but I think my husband might have killed himself.”

Clara opened her mouth to answer, but before she could form the words she was jolted out of her chair. The walls of the room disappeared, to be replaced by a tree-lined street with a row of shops. It was cold, so cold she dragged her scarf from her neck and covered her hair with it.

Little bits of ice bounced off the pavement at her feet as the hail pummeled her head. Farther down the street, a man stood outside the bank. He didn’t have to turn around for her to know he was Scott Delwyn.

As she watched, he stepped closer to the bank, holding out his hands as if begging someone for something. Then he spun around and stared at her, still with his hands outstretched. She tried to call out to him, but the wind whipped the words from her mouth.

“Indigestion,” someone said, in Stephanie’s voice.

Clara blinked. She was back in Karen’s living room, and both women were staring at her. Karen looked concerned, but Stephanie’s face was alight with suppressed excitement.

“Are you all right?” Karen got up from her chair. “Can I get you something? Water? Antacid?”

“Thank you, I’m fine.” Clara picked up her tea again. “A sip of this should take care of it.” She was careful to drink more slowly this time, and smiled at her hostess as she set down the cup and saucer. “Please, sit down, Karen. I’m okay.”

Her face still creased in doubt, Karen sat down. “Well, as I was saying, I think it’s entirely possible that Scott jumped off that scaffolding. I would give anything to know what it was that drove him to do it.”

“Well, I hope for your peace of mind you find out eventually,” Clara said, “but if what you say is true, maybe Scott sacrificed his life so you wouldn’t find out.”

Karen stared at her for a moment, then her face crumpled. “You’re right, Clara. Thank you. I’m so glad I told you now. Scott wouldn’t want me digging around trying to find out what he didn’t want me to know. I guess I’m always going to wonder about it, though.” She fished in her pants pocket and pulled out a tissue. After blowing her nose, she looked at Stephanie. “So tell me, how are the kids doing? I don’t know about you, but I worry about mine all the time they’re in school. I know I should be enjoying the break but it never works out that way.”

Clara sat back and tried to relax as her cousin and Karen exchanged horror stories about their kids’ school lives. She kept seeing Scott’s tormented face in her mind and frustration had her gritting her teeth. If only she knew what he was trying to tell her.

She was still turning it over in her mind when Stephanie got to her feet. “I really hate to break this up,” she said, buttoning her coat, “but I should get back to the bookstore. Molly’s there alone and Saturdays are always busy.”

“Of course.” Karen got up as Clara jumped to her feet. “It was so nice of you both to come over. I feel so much better after our little chat.”

“We’ll be back,” Clara promised, still feeling guilty for the purpose of their visit.

She was hardly in the car before Stephanie flung herself into the passenger seat, exclaiming, “Where did you go back there? I know the Quinn Sense took you somewhere.”

Concentrating on backing out of Karen’s driveway, Clara murmured, “I didn’t go far.” She told Stephanie what she’d seen in the vision. “I’m more convinced than ever that the bank robbery is somehow connected to Scott’s death.”

“It sure looks like it. I wish we could tell Dan that.”

“I tried.” Clara paused while she made a left turn. “He threatened to charge us with obstruction of justice.”

“What?” Stephanie sat up. “You didn’t tell me that! He can’t do that! Can he?”

Clara shrugged. “I don’t know, but I don’t think we should test him enough to find out. From now on, we’ll have to be pretty discreet about who we talk to about this.”

“You’re absolutely certain that Scott was thrown off that scaffolding by someone?”

“Positive.”

“Then we’ll just have to risk it with Dan.” Stephanie settled down again. “I couldn’t bear to see the pain in Karen’s eyes when she talked about her husband committing suicide. We have to find out the truth, even if it’s just to set her mind at rest.”

“Not to mention punishing whoever was responsible.”

“Yeah, well . . . that, too. What about the lunchbox thing? Do you think Brad lied about that?” She gasped, a hand over her mouth. “What if Brad is the killer!”

Clara wrestled with the thought for a while, then shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I think if Scott lied to his wife, he probably lied to Brad, too. I think he made up the story to cover up where he was really going that night.”

Stephanie was quiet for a moment, “Whatever it takes, Clara. We’re in this together, remember?”

Clara shot her a smile. If there was one person she could rely on, it was her cousin, and something told her they would have to rely on each other a great deal before this was over.

“We’ve been going about this all wrong,” Clara said as she sat down on her bed that evening with her cell phone pressed against her ear.

At the end of the line, Stephanie sounded tired. “What does that mean?”

Clara shoved Tatters over and swung her bare feet up on the bed. Leaning against the headboard, she patted the dog’s head. “We’ve been wasting our time trying to find out what happened at the construction site. What we need to do is look into the bank robbery. Maybe we can find the connection if we know more about it.”

“Good idea. What do you think we should do next?”

Clara sighed. “I don’t know. I’d love to ask Dan about the police report, but that would be pretty stupid. He’d probably throw me in jail.”

“Well, I know how you can find out more.”

“And what’s that?” Clara asked cautiously. No doubt Stephanie was about to come up with another of her harebrained plans. Though she had to admit, once in a while, by some miracle, her cousin’s ideas actually produced the desired result.

“Well, Dan isn’t the only one who gets to see the police report.”

“So?”

“So, you get Tim to ask you out on a date. Then you can casually ask him how the investigation is going. He’s Dan’s chief deputy, I bet he knows everything there is to know about the robbery.”

Clara sighed. “I am not going on a date with Tim Rossi.”

Stephanie’s voice rose in exasperation. “Why
not?
You
know he’d jump at the chance to go out with you. He can’t take his eyes off you when he’s in the store.”

“For one thing, I’m not interested in dating Tim.”

“But if it’s to find out about the robbery—”

“For another thing, it’s not fair to let a guy think you’re interested in him when you’re not.”

“But—”

“For a third thing, if Dan found out, he’d bust us both.”

“You’re just making excuses.”

“And why would I do that?”

“I dunno. Maybe you’re afraid of upsetting Rick Sanders.”

“That’s ridiculous. It has nothing to do with Rick. He’s just a friend, and I’m certainly not going to let him dictate my social life.”

“Oh, yeah? I see you when he comes in the bookstore. You look at him the way Tim looks at you. You get all twittery.”

Clara puffed out her breath. “Now you’re just being juvenile.”

“Has he kissed you yet?”

Clara winced at her cousin’s sly tone. “No, he hasn’t. Nor do I expect him to, so quit the interrogation. There’s a simple way to find out more about the bank robbery.”

To her relief, Stephanie jumped on the change of subject. “What? Tell me! What is it?”

“I can talk to Janice at the bank. She was there when the robbery happened. She can tell me everything I need to know.”

“Now why didn’t I think of that?” Stephanie paused, then spoke away from the phone. “Olivia! Put Jasper down this minute.
No!
He will not fit into your dollhouse so quit trying to stuff him in there.” She sighed into the phone. “I’d better go and rescue the poor cat. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Clara was about to wish her cousin good-night when Stephanie added, “Do you want me to come with you to the bank?”

“No, thanks. I’ll go on Monday morning on the way to work. It’s Molly’s day off, so you’ll need to be in the bookstore.”

Stephanie sounded relieved. “Okay, but if you need me, just holler. I still think you should date Tim Rossi. He’d be a lot more exciting than Rick Sanders. If you’d spent as much time with Tim as you have with Rick, Tim would have kissed you plenty of times by now.”

She hung up before the retort left Clara’s lips.

Lying back on the pillows, Clara closed the phone. Damn her cousin. She had a way of pushing all the wrong buttons.

Clara tried to concentrate on something else, but Stephanie’s words kept coming back to her.
Has he kissed you yet?
No, he hadn’t. He hadn’t even come close. Some of the things he said made her think he would like to take their relationship further, yet he hadn’t made any moves toward that.

Was he waiting for her to make the first move? She hoped not. It wasn’t in her nature to be that aggressive. Now, if it were Roberta Prince, that would be a whole new ball game. Roberta wouldn’t waste time dancing around. She’d be all over Rick at the first opportunity.

That thought didn’t sit well with Clara. Much as Rick claimed he wasn’t the least bit interested in Roberta, he was a red-blooded American male, and Roberta was, well . . . Roberta. Glamorous, sophisticated, and once she made up her mind she wanted something, the devil himself couldn’t stop her.

Disgusted at the path her thoughts had taken her down, Clara fastened Tatters’ leash about his neck and took him out for a long walk.

Alone in the bookstore the next day, she had plenty of time to dwell on her thoughts. She did her best to keep busy, but every time the doorbell jingled, she prayed it wouldn’t be Roberta, or conversely, that it would be Rick.

It seemed ages since she’d seen him. The longing to talk to him was so strong she was tempted to cross the street to his store. If she hadn’t been alone in the store, she might have done just that, but even a visit with Rick wasn’t enough to make her abandon the Raven’s Nest while it was in her charge.

About an hour before closing time, just as she was thinking of taking a break in the Nook, she heard the doorbell ring and Dan’s chief deputy strolled in. Tim had a habit of ducking his head when he came through the door, as if he was afraid of bumping it. It always made her smile, since he wasn’t that much taller than her, and there was plenty of room to pass through the doorway.

She was still smiling when he approached the counter.

He smiled back, dark eyes twinkling at her. “I wasn’t sure you’d still be open.”

“We close at five on Sundays.” She glanced at the clock. “You’ve got forty-five minutes to find what you want.”

“Well, I was kind of hoping you’d find it for me.” He glanced around the store as if making sure they were alone. “Dan told me you helped him find books for his granddaughter.”

“Yes, I did.” She was beginning to feel as uncomfortable as he looked. Stephanie’s words came back to her in sharp focus.
You know he’d jump at the chance to go out with you. He can’t take his eyes off you when he’s in the store.
Surely Stephanie hadn’t sent him here suggesting that he ask her for a date?

Tim cleared his throat and stretched his neck as if his collar was too tight. “Well, it’s my mother’s birthday and she likes to read, but I’m not sure what she likes.” He cleared his throat again. “I think she reads . . . ah. . . . those love stories, but I don’t know. . . .”

His voice trailed off as his face turned red. Relieved, Clara finally understood. “Your mother likes to read romances?”

Tim nodded. “Do you have anything like that here?”

“Well, we stock mostly fantasy, sci-fi and other paranormal stuff, but I think I can find you something your mother might like. Some of our fantasy books have great romances in them.”

Tim coughed and Clara hid another smile as she led him down the aisle. Stephanie was wrong about the deputy being a mover and shaker. This man had his shy side.

She found the book she was looking for and put it into his hands. “There, I think she’ll enjoy that one. We’ll get her turned on to a whole new genre!”

Tim looked doubtful, but he took the book, muttering his thanks.

Stephanie’s words popped into her head again.
Then you can casually ask him how the investigation is going.
Maybe her cousin had something there. On impulse, she said quickly, “I was just going to grab some coffee in the Nook. Would you like a cup?”

Tim looked surprised, then pleased. “Well, I don’t normally drink coffee this late in the day but I’m not going to refuse an offer like that. Thanks!”

Feeling somewhat guilty again, Clara ushered him into the Nook and toward a chair. He looked around as he sat down, saying, “I’ve never been in this part of the store. It looks comfortable and cozy. No wonder it’s always crowded in here in the mornings.”

“I think it’s more the coffee and donuts that bring in the crowds, but thanks, anyway.” She put the coffee down in front of him. “So, how’s the investigation going with the bank robbery?”

Tim, it seemed, much to her relief, had none of Dan’s reluctance to talk about the crime. “Not too well, right now. We got shots of the robber on the security cameras, but he was wearing a ski mask and cap and all we have is a general height and weight description.”

“Do you think it was a local man?”

Tim shrugged and stretched out a hand to pick up his coffee. “There’s no way of telling. There was no getaway car—nothing to identify him. He didn’t even speak. Just shoved a note at Janice and waved a gun at her. He had it all well planned. He was out the back door and over the fence before we even got there. Dan took a dog out to track him, but it was in the middle of that hailstorm we had, and the dog lost the scent. That guy thought of everything.”

Clara hesitated, then decided she had nothing to lose. “Is there anything at all that might suggest that the robbery is connected to Scott Delwyn’s death?”

Wariness crept across Tim’s face. He put down the mug and stood up. “Dan told me you were asking him about that. Take a tip from me, Clara, Dan’s got a short fuse when it comes to things like murder. Scott’s death was an accident, and having you go around talking like it was something else is just going to stir up trouble. You don’t want Dan mad at you. Take my word for it.”

“He already is mad at me.” She cradled her mug in her hands, feeling utterly defeated. “I’m not trying to make trouble, Tim, really I’m not, but I think that Scott didn’t fall off that scaffolding without some help.”

“What gives you that idea?”

She was so tempted to tell him, knowing all the same she couldn’t. Even if she did, he’d never believe a word of it. “I don’t know. Just a hunch.”

He smiled.

“It’s a strong hunch.”

“Dan doesn’t believe in hunches. He only believes in evidence. Unless you have some of that to back up your theory, he’s not going to listen. We did a thorough investigation, and nothing turned up to suggest it was anything but an accident.”

“I know.” Clara looked up at him. “I just wish I had that evidence. I know what I think, and I feel so utterly helpless to do anything about it. Dan is threatening to charge me with obstruction of justice if I don’t stay out of it.”

Tim stepped forward and wound an arm around her shoulders. “Cheer up, sunshine. Dan’s just trying to protect you, that’s all. He doesn’t mean half of what he says.”

Taken by surprise, Clara gave him a weak smile.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

The voice had come from behind her, but she didn’t need to turn around to know to whom it belonged.

“Hi, Rick.” Tim dropped his arm and moved away from Clara. “I was just about to take off.” He picked up the book Clara had given him and held it up. “Guess I’d better pay for this before I leave.”

Still with her back to Rick, Clara nodded then braced herself to turn around.

Rick winked at her, his grin spreading across his face. “Caught in the act, huh?”

She raised her chin. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Excuse me.” She brushed past him and rushed up the aisle, followed more slowly by Tim.

After ringing up the charge, she dropped the book in a bag and thrust it at the deputy. “That’ll be eight ninety-nine.”

Tim took his time drawing a card from his wallet and swiping it, while Clara wondered what the heck Rick was doing down there in the Nook and what he was thinking.

“Thanks for the help,” Tim said as he headed for the door. “And don’t worry about Dan. His bark is a lot worse than his bite.”

The door closed behind him with a
snap
.

“What was all that about Dan?”

Clara jumped. She hadn’t seen Rick come up the aisle. She avoided his gaze, trying to make a big deal out of recording the transaction, then tidying up the counter. “Oh, he just got annoyed with me because I was asking too many questions about the bank robbery.”

“Still playing sleuth, huh?”

“Something like that.” She finally looked at him, but he was staring at the door, as if deep in thought about something. “So, did you come to look at the new cookbooks?”