Trouble Vision (9 page)

She greeted the police chief with a smile. “What can I do for you?”

His sharp gaze seemed to penetrate her brain when he looked at her. “It’s my granddaughter’s birthday. She’s into all that vampire stuff that the kids are crazy about, for some reason I’ll never understand.”

Clara smiled. “You want me to pick out a book for her?”

“Yeah, a couple, if you can find them.”

“Come with me.” She beckoned him to follow her and led him down an aisle. “Do you know what she’s already read?”

“Nope. Not a clue.” He looked worried. “Can she exchange them if I get her something she’s read already?”

“Sure she can. Just make sure you give her the receipt so she can bring it in.”

He still looked doubtful. “Maybe I should just get her a gift certificate.” He shook his head. “That seems like such a cop-out, as if I couldn’t be bothered to think of something.”

“Well, here.” Clara pulled a book from the shelf and handed it to him. “This one just came in today. It’s the first in a new series, and I think your granddaughter might like it. It’s kind of like the Twilight books but with a different twist.”

He took the book from her and turned it over in his hands. “Since I have no idea what the Twilight books are about, I’ll take your word for it. Any more like this?”

She found a similar book for him and walked with him back to the counter. Ever since the moment she’d seen him in the store, she’d been bursting to ask him about the bank robbery. Now was her opportunity and she wasn’t about to let it slip through her fingers.

Waiting for him to find his credit card, she asked casually, “So, any news on what happened at the bank?”

He flicked her a glance. “No more than what you’ve heard on TV.”

“So you still don’t know who did it?”

“Not yet, but we will.” He swiped the card with an impatient flick of his wrist that warned her he didn’t want to talk about it.

“You don’t have any clues at all?”

His look gave her another quiver of apprehension. “If I did, I wouldn’t be telling you about it.”

She managed a weak smile. “I was just wondering if you . . . er . . . thought about the chance that the robbery might have something to do with Scott Delwyn’s death. I mean, it’s quite a coincidence, don’t you think? Two big incidents like that, following . . . each . . . other. . . .” She let her voice trail off as Dan’s face darkened.

For a long moment, the silence between them was as thick as a fog bank, then Dan said quietly, “I’m only going to tell you this once more. There’s no reason to think that Scott’s death was anything but an accident. There’s no evidence to suggest it had anything remotely to do with the bank robbery. I sincerely hope you and your cousin don’t take it into your heads to try and make out of this something it isn’t. I’d really hate to have to charge you both with obstruction of justice.”

Clara swallowed. “I’d hate that, too.”

“Good. Then we have an understanding.”

He held out his hand for the books and she hastily dropped them into a bag, slipped his receipt inside and handed it to him. “Thank you, Chief,” she said, hoping her smile would help erase the resentment from his face. “I hope you find your robber soon.”

“You and me both,” he muttered and strode to the door.

She let out her breath as the door closed behind him. Well, that settled one question. There was no way Dan was going to listen to her about her suspicions.

She and Stephanie were on their own.

Two days later, she watched the clock all day until she could finally close up and join her cousin and Molly out at the Blue Bayou.

Molly had been right about the bar. It was decently lit and there were actually curtains on the windows. The tables looked clean and the volume of the country music was low enough to have a decent conversation without yelling.

She found Stephanie alone in a booth, close to an enormous brick fireplace in which logs spat and crackled, sending sparks flying up the wide chimney. Clara could feel the warmth from it on the back of her legs as she pulled out a chair and sat down.

The smell of smoke and burning wood was far more pleasant than the beery body odors at the Laurel Street Tavern. In fact, Clara thought, as she checked out the old-fashioned wall lamps and the paneled walls of the booth, the Blue Bayou was a palace compared to its counterpart.

“Molly’s over there,” Stephanie said, nodding at the opposite side of the room. “She saw someone she knew and went over to talk to him. I thought it would be better if I stayed here.”

Clara followed her gaze and caught sight of Molly’s red hair. She was half hidden by a guy standing behind her, but Clara could see her talking to a young man seated at a table.

“Who is he? Did she say?”

“One of the construction workers. That’s all I know. They seem to know each other really well, though.”

Watching Molly’s head lean closer to her companion’s, Clara had to agree. The two of them were laughing and talking like old friends.

Turning back to Stephanie, she looked at the glass sitting in front of her cousin. “How’s the wine?”

“Pretty good. They have chardonnay.”

“My kind of place.” Clara caught the eye of the young woman circling the tables and ordered a glass. “How long have you been here?”

“About an hour. We ordered nachos. They were good. Want some?”

“Maybe later. Though I usually have something waiting for me in the fridge when I get home.”

Stephanie wrinkled her brow. “You’re lucky to have a mom to cook for you.”

“I guess. Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.”

“Still having problems with Aunt Jessie?”

“Now and then. I have to admit, it hasn’t been as bad since we got Tatters. She spends her time scolding him now instead of me.”

Stephanie laughed. “He’s made himself useful, then. You’d better hope that Rick doesn’t take him back.”

“He’d have a fight on his hands if he tried.”

“You’re getting that fond of the dog?”

“Not just me. Jessie is having too much fun wielding her authority to let that dog go now. At least Tatters listens to her, which is more than I ever did.”

“You’ve got that right.”

The server brought Clara’s wine just as Molly danced back to the table, holding a glass in her hand. She plunked herself down on a chair and gave the cousins a triumphant grin. “I found out something.”

“You did?”

“What is it?”

Both women had spoken at once and Molly laughed. “What do you think of my informant?”

“We can’t see much of him from here.” Clara peered across the room but the table was now hidden from sight behind a group of people. “What’s his name?”

“Brad Fielding. He works on the construction site. Guess what.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “He was with Scott right before he died.”

Clara put her glass down too quickly and slopped wine over the side. “What did he tell you?”

“Well, apparently Scott left his lunch box up on the scaffolding that night. His youngest daughter had given it to him for his birthday, and he knew she’d be upset if he went home without it, so he went back to get it.” Molly paused, then added quietly, “Brad said that it was raining hard that night and getting dark. The scaffolding was slippery. Scott must have lost his footing and fell.”

Clara frowned. It all sounded so feasible. She would never have questioned it either, if she hadn’t seen that vision of Scott being shoved off the scaffolding. She couldn’t tell Molly that, however, and she could hardly blame the woman for looking at her with doubt all over her face.

Stephanie cleared her throat. “Did he say anything else?”

Molly nodded. “One more thing. He thinks Scott might have been distracted by a text message. Earlier that day, Brad saw him open up his cell phone and look at it as if he was reading bad news. He seemed upset and Brad asked him if he was okay. He didn’t answer, just shoved the phone back in his pocket and walked away.”

Clara exchanged a glance with her cousin. “Well, it’s not much to go on. I wonder if anyone else there knew what he was upset about.”

“Maybe Karen would know,” Stephanie said. “She could have been the one who sent him the text message.”

“There’s one way to find out.” Clara picked up her glass again. “I think it’s time we paid the widow a visit. How about tomorrow morning?”

Stephanie nodded. “Sure. That is, Molly, if you don’t mind holding down the fort again for an hour or so?”

“Of course I don’t mind.” Molly looked at Clara. “I can’t help feeling, though, that you could be wrong about Scott’s accident being murder.”

“I know it seems that way. I just have to ask you to trust me. Thanks for talking to the guys over there. You’ve been a big help so far.”

“Really?” Molly beamed. “Well, call on me any time. This is fun!”

Clara wasn’t sure how much fun it was going to be talking to Scott’s widow, but she held up her wine and touched glasses with Molly. “Here’s to finding out the truth, even if we do seem to be spending most of our time in bars.”

Stephanie lifted her glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

“And here’s to finding out Scott’s death was an accident, after all,” Molly added. “Then we won’t have to worry about a killer lurking about in Finn’s Harbor.”

There was little hope of that, Clara thought, as she met Stephanie’s gaze. There was no doubt in her mind that Scott had been murdered. Proving it, however, was turning out to be even more difficult than she’d imagined.

“Now, what about Ryan Whittaker?” Stephanie asked, putting down her empty glass. “Aren’t we supposed to be talking to him?”

“You are?” Molly’s eyes widened. “What does he have to do with Scott’s death?”

“Nothing, as far as we know,” Clara said hastily. “We’re just hoping he might know something that could help.”

“Well, he’s over there with Brad if you want to talk to him.” Molly glanced over at the far table. “In fact, he just got up and went over to the bar.”

Clara followed her gaze. “Which one is he?”

“You don’t know him?”

Clara shook her head. “I know his brother works for Rick.”

Still looking puzzled, Molly got up. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Clara looked at Stephanie. “You coming?”

“I guess.” With obvious reluctance, Stephanie took another sip of wine and got to her feet. “Let’s do this.”

Molly led the way over to the bar and tapped the shoulder of a tall, dark-haired guy in a leather jacket. “Hey, Ryan, I have a couple of friends who want to meet you.”

Clara seemed to lose the use of her tongue as she looked into dark eyes that were blatantly checking her out from head to toe. She managed to mumble a greeting while Stephanie edged closer behind her.

Ryan Whittaker looked nothing like the man on the beach in her dream, which unsettled her. She’d been so sure the dream was a message, but now it seemed it was just a dream and nothing more. Ryan was even better looking than his brother, and had danger written all over him. Jessie would have a field day with this one. Clara was just a tad shorter than him and she instinctively stretched her back to try and reach his height.

He finally focused on her face and gave her a slow smile that must have taken years to perfect. “Hi, gorgeous. What’s your name?”

“Clara.” She felt behind her and found Stephanie’s arm. Dragging her cousin forward, she added, “This is my cousin, Stephanie. She owns the Raven’s Nest bookstore that’s right across the street from where your brother works.”

“Hi,” Stephanie said, sounding breathless. “I’m married.”

Clara gave her a startled look, while Ryan continued to stare into Clara’s face. “You don’t say,” he murmured.

Clara cleared her throat. “I met Tyler the other day,” she said, wishing she sounded a bit more confident. “He’s a very nice young man.”

Ryan’s smile was beginning to slip. “So?”

“I . . . er . . . we . . . were friends with Scott Delwyn. We were just wondering if you were there the night he died.”

The smile disappeared altogether and hostility crept into the black eyes. “What if I was?”

This was not going well. She should have rehearsed what she wanted to say. Anything she said now would sound like an accusation. She had misinterpreted her dream and it was obvious this man was not going to tell her anything.

She looked at Stephanie for help, but just then Molly stepped forward. “We’re thinking of setting up a memorial fund for Karen,” she said, “and we’re trying to find out who were Scott’s friends on the construction site.”

Clara let out her breath as Ryan turned to look at her. “I’ve got no idea. I wasn’t one of them.” He frowned. “Why don’t you ask Brad?”

Molly beamed. “Good idea. I will.”

Clara added weakly, “Thank you, anyway.”

The seductive gleam was back in his eyes as he murmured, “Anytime, gorgeous.”

She could feel his gaze on her all the way back to the table.

“Wow,” Stephanie said, sinking onto her chair. “That one is just too hot to handle.”

Clara looked at her cousin. “What was all that about you being married?”

Stephanie shrugged. “I didn’t want him looking at me the way he was looking at you.”

Molly laughed. “It’s all talk. He’s no different than any of the other guys. He just puts on a better show.”

“You could have fooled me.” Stephanie eyed Clara with a sly grin. “He sure did a number on you.”

Clara could feel her cheeks growing warm. “Oh, quit it. I was scared he was going to get mad at us for suggesting he had anything to do with Scott’s death.” She turned to Molly. “That was quick thinking, Molly. Good job.”

Molly grinned. “Thanks, but I still don’t know why you thought he was involved.”

“Just a stupid hunch, that’s all.”

“Well, it turned out okay and that’s all that matters.” Stephanie gathered up her purse. “I have to run.” She got to her feet. “Are you coming?”

“I think I’m going to stick around for a while longer,” Clara murmured. “I haven’t finished my wine yet.”

“Me, too.” Molly leaned back on her chair.

“Okay, see you tomorrow.” Stephanie took off, rushing out the door without a backward look.

“Do you think she’s upset with us for staying?” Molly asked anxiously.

Clara laughed. “She’s probably upset she had to leave. Stephanie doesn’t like being left out of anything.”

“You know her really well.”

“We’ve been close almost from the day we were born.” Clara picked up her glass and took a sip of wine. “We grew up together. More like sisters, I guess.”

“It must be nice, having a cousin who’s also your best friend.” Molly sighed. “I would have loved to have a sister. Or even a cousin to hang around with.”

“You don’t have cousins?”

Molly shook her head. “My mother was an only child, and my father grew up in foster homes. I have one brother, but he lives on the West Coast.”

Clara nodded. “I’m an only child and so is Stephanie. I guess that’s why we spent so much time together. We were always at one another’s house, sleeping over most of the time.”

“That’s nice.”

Molly looked sad and Clara sought to change the subject. “How did you meet Brad?”

“I met him in Mittleford last week.” Molly smiled. “I’d been shopping and was loaded down with bags. I tried to open my car door and dropped a couple of them on the ground. Brad was getting out of his car in the next parking spot. He helped me load everything into the car and he was like, real friendly and cute, and we got to talking and he told me he worked at the resort project and mentioned this place. He said if I came down here, he’d buy me a drink.”

“Ah, so when you heard that Stephanie and I wanted to talk to the construction guys . . .”

“I suggested we come here tonight so I could see Brad again.”

“Devious. Sounds like something I would do.”

Molly grinned. “I did get some information for you, though. Right?”

“Right.” She wasn’t exactly sure if it was going to be much help, but maybe their visit to Karen in the morning would turn up something. Catching sight of Molly staring across the room, she added, “Look, if you want to go and talk to Brad, go ahead. I have to get back home, anyway, and walk my dog. Just let me know if he tells you anything else about Scott.”

Molly jumped to her feet. “You’re sure? Cool! I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

She was gone before Clara had time to answer.

Walking to the door, Clara felt a stab of envy when she saw Molly sit down next to the rugged guy at the far table. Her friend’s face was flushed with excitement, and judging from the smile on the young man’s face, he was just as thrilled to be talking to her.

It had been a long time since she’d felt that way, Clara thought, as she opened her car door and climbed inside. Though she had to admit, she’d come close a time or two when she’d been with Rick.

Thinking of Rick stirred up all her insecurities. It had taken her a long time to come to terms with how she felt about him. She’d been burned once, badly, and even now she wasn’t sure she could completely trust her heart to someone else.

If only she knew how he really felt about her. Maybe then she could let go of all the doubts and just enjoy being with him.

She arrived home a short time later to find Tatters alone in the utility room and a note from her mother telling her not to wait up. Tatters, as usual, was ecstatic to see her, and without Jessie’s stern voice telling him to heel, leapt up to smother Clara’s face with his furry kisses.

She managed to calm him down enough to get a leash on him and then braved the cold once more. Their walk took them down to the harbor, but the wind cut through her coat like blades of ice and she gave up the idea of walking on the beach.

Even Tatters seemed content to trot along the seafront, and she returned to the house, grateful for the warmth of the living room. There was a casserole sitting in the oven and after heating it up she ate at the kitchen table, too tired to be bothered listening to the TV.

She fell asleep before Jessie returned home, and woke up to the sound of the wind rattling tree branches outside her window.

Jessie was in the kitchen, dressed for work and finishing up her usual mug of coffee. She gave Clara a searching look when she walked in, but said nothing until Clara had poured herself some coffee and sat down at the table.

“You look a bit peaky. Are you not sleeping well?”

Clara looked up with a start. “What? Yes, I’m sleeping okay.”

“Well, you don’t have any color in your cheeks.”

“It’s the middle of winter. No one has any color in their cheeks.”

“You know what I mean.” Jessie got up and walked over to the sink, carrying her mug. “I think it’s that dog keeping you awake. He should be sleeping in the utility room.”

Having heard that comment more times than she cared to remember, Clara didn’t answer.

“Or is there something else keeping you awake?”

Clara sighed. “No, Mother, there’s nothing going on. I’m sleeping perfectly fine, thank you.”

Jessie came back to the table and sat down. “Are you happy, Clara?”

Taken aback, Clara stared at her mother. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You don’t seem to have any friends—except for Stephanie, of course. Then again, she’s your cousin. You have to be friends with her.”

Clara decided to let that one go.

“What about that nice man at the hardware store? I thought you two were getting into something interesting.”

Clara raised her eyebrows. “Whatever that means.”

“You know perfectly well what I mean.” Jessie sighed and got up. “There’s just no talking to you these days. You’ve changed, Clara, and I’m not at all sure it’s for the better.” She walked over to the door and looked back. “You have to live life to the fullest. You never know when it might end. I’ll see you tonight.”

Clara buried her face in her hands until she heard the front door close behind her mother. Jessie meant well, she reminded herself. Her mother worried about her. She wished she wouldn’t.

Still, Jessie’s last words remained with Clara as she showered and dressed.
You never know when it might end.
It had ended for Scott Delwyn far too soon. She frowned, thinking about the comments Molly’s friend had made the night before.

Scott had received some kind of text message that had apparently upset him. A few short hours later he was dead. Coincidence? It seemed there were too many coincidences concerning his death,.

She stared at her image in the mirror.
Come on, Quinn Sense. Where are you when I need you?
Her hair could use a trim, she decided. It was almost to her shoulders. She brushed a handful of it back from her face. She’d often wondered what she’d look like with short, blonde hair instead of her heavy, dark brown mane. Thinking of blonde hair made her think of Roberta Prince, and thinking of Roberta made her think of Rick. Why did everything always bring her back to Rick Sanders?

Inpatient with herself, she dragged a brush through her hair, dashed on some lipstick and eyeliner and headed for the bedroom. After settling Tatters down on her bed, she was about to leave when it occurred to her she ought to call Karen Delwyn to ask if she and Stephanie could stop by.

She had to call Stephanie at the store first to get the number from the customer list, and promised to pick her up in fifteen minutes.

Karen’s phone rang four times before she answered. Clara was on the point of hanging up when she heard the other woman’s tired voice. She seemed pleased when Clara told her she and her cousin were thinking of paying her a visit.

“Come on over,” she said, sounding brighter. “I made chocolate chip cookies for the girls this morning. If there’s any left over by the time you get here, you can have some.”

Clara felt guilty as she closed her phone. Karen had sounded so desperate for company, and here they were going over there to ask questions about her dead husband. She’d make a point of visiting her again, Clara promised herself as she walked down the path to her car. When she had more time to sit and talk.

Stephanie had her coat on when Clara got to the Raven’s Nest. “We’re just starting to get busy,” she said as she scrambled into Clara’s car. “We can’t stay long at Karen’s.”

Clara felt the stab of guilt again. “We have to at least stay and eat some of the cookies she baked.”

“Cookies?” Stephanie sat up. “What kind of cookies?”

“Chocolate chip.”

“Well, maybe we can spare an hour or so.” Stephanie settled back on her seat with a look of gleeful anticipation.

Karen greeted them at the door, looking a little more at ease than when they’d last seen her. She showed them into the living room and left them there while she went to get the cookies.