A Sinister Sense (11 page)

She spent most of the night wrestling with the dog for space on the pillow before falling into a fitful sleep. Waking up again with a start, she saw sunlight sparkling between the slats of the blinds at her window. She could hear an odd sound, like the distant rumble of a freight train. It took her a moment or two to realize it was Tatters’ snoring that had disturbed her sleep.

Which was just as well, as a quick glance at the clock confirmed that she’d overslept. Jessie must have already left for work. Clara hoped her mother hadn’t checked the utility room and realized that Tatters was sharing her daughter’s bed. She’d have plenty to say about that if she had.

After swallowing a couple of slices of toast and a cup of coffee, Clara took Tatters for a quick walk around the block. “I’ll take you to the beach when I get home from work,” she promised him, trying to ignore the pleading look in his eyes when she closed the bedroom door on him.

Stephanie was waiting for her when she walked into the Raven’s Nest a few minutes later. “We have to talk,” her cousin said as Clara stuffed her purse under the counter. Without waiting for an answer, she marched off down the aisle, leaving Clara to follow.

Molly was talking to a customer at the counter and gave her a quick wave as she passed. Clara wondered if Stephanie had already asked for her help with their efforts to clear Rick’s name. In light of the latest news that they were still holding Rick at the police station, however, Clara wasn’t sure if Stephanie was still willing to go ahead with it.

She entered the Nook to find her cousin pouring out two mugs of coffee. Stephanie handed her one of the mugs and sat down on the couch. “Have you heard any more news?”

Clara sank onto the nearest armchair. “Not since last night.”

“So what do you think?”

Clara leaned back, cradling the mug in her hands. “I just wish I could talk to Rick and get his side of the story. So far all we’ve heard is Dan’s side of it.”

“Carson Dexter seems to think the case is about to be solved.”

“He’s certainly not helping matters,” Clara said, letting a note of bitterness creep into her voice. “Anyone listening to him would think that Rick has already been tried and convicted. What happened to the law that says that every person must be presumed innocent until proven guilty?”

“It still stands, the last I heard.”

“Well, listening to our honorable mayor, you’d never know it even existed.”

Stephanie heaved a heavy sigh. “So, what are we going to do? Did you find out where this Buzz person lives?”

“Buzz Lamont. Not yet.” Clara stared gloomily into her mug. “I don’t think we’ll get much out of him. If he didn’t want to talk to the police, he sure won’t talk to us. All we know so far is that he recognized the victim on TV. By the way, the dead guy’s name is Frank Tomeski.”

“Oh, right! How did you remember that? So do you think he came to Finn’s Harbor to meet this Buzz Lamont person?”

“Maybe, though I doubt Mr. Lamont would tell us if he did.”

Stephanie sipped her coffee before answering. “I guess you could just ask him, and maybe the Sense will help you tell if he’s lying. You’ve done that plenty of times before. Like the time Old Man Thompson told you he kept a wolf in his house to scare off trespassers. You knew he was lying and climbed through a window of his house to prove it.”

Clara gave her a withering look. “I climbed through
the window because you dared me to do it. I got caught and ended up getting grounded for a week. You didn’t even get yelled at.”

Stephanie shrugged. “I wanted to know if you could really tell when someone’s lying.”

“Sometimes I can and a lot of times I can’t.”

She hadn’t meant to sound so bitter. Stephanie reached out to pat her arm. “I’m sorry, Clara. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

Clara nodded. She’d given her cousin a brief version of what had happened in New York, but had told no one the whole story. The truth was, she wasn’t ready to talk about it. Or even think about it. Maybe she never would be ready. “Well, I guess it won’t hurt to give it a shot with Buzz Lamont. If we can find out where he lives.” Her memory prodded, she dug in her pants pocket for the note she’d scribbled the night before. “Speaking of which, I had a sort of vision last night.”

Stephanie sat up, her eyes bright with expectation. “Another one? What was it?”

“Nothing much. Just a sign swinging in the wind. Some of the letters were too faded to read, but here’s what I remember of it.” Handing the note to her cousin, she added, “See if this means anything to you.”

Stephanie studied the note. Frowning, she shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Try and imagine it with other letters in between.”

Stephanie started muttering. “Winfutmel…Winningfutmel…Windingfutmel…”

Molly’s voice made them both jump. “What are you doing?”

Stephanie quickly folded the note and shoved it in the pocket of her blue smock. “Just playing word games. Did Mrs. Riley buy anything?”

“No, but she ordered a couple of books.” Molly wandered over to the counter and picked up the coffeepot. “It’s quiet out there today.”

Stephanie questioned with her eyes, a message Clara instantly understood. Her cousin wanted to know if it was okay to tell Molly about their investigation. She gave her a quick nod of approval. Stephanie answered with a finger jabbed in her direction.

Taking that to mean she was to open the conversation, Clara said lightly, “I guess you heard the latest news about Rick?”

Molly nodded as she walked over to the couch. “I still can’t believe it. He seems such a nice guy.” She shot a wary glance at Clara. “You must be really upset about all this.”

“I’m upset at people jumping to the conclusion he’s guilty,” Clara said, her voice sharp with annoyance. Catching her cousin’s quick frown, she added more calmly, “Stephanie and I plan to do something about that.”

Molly looked at Stephanie, who beamed at her. “We thought you might like to help, too.”

A multitude of expressions crossed Molly’s face. It was obvious she was struggling between her conviction of Rick’s guilt and her loyalty to her friends.

Clara decided to help her out. “He didn’t do it,” she said firmly. “We are quite sure of that.”

“I really want to believe you, but the cops say—”

“Never mind what they say,” Stephanie said, beating Clara to the punch. “It’s what
we
believe that matters. You can’t have forgotten that you were in the same boat last year, Molly. Everyone thought you were guilty until we found the real murderer.”

Molly’s face turned pink. “Of course I haven’t forgotten. I owe you guys a lot. It’s just that…well, the mayor sounded so convinced…”

Clara made a guttural sound in her throat. “Don’t get me started on that. He’s just looking for a boost to his political career. Rick didn’t kill that man, and we’re going to prove it. Are you in or not?”

Molly stared at her for a long moment, then shrugged. “What do you want me to do?”

Both cousins let out a sigh of relief.

“See if you can make sense of these letters,” Stephanie said, handing Molly the note.

Molly studied it, her brows drawn together as she concentrated. “What is it?”

“I saw it on a sign somewhere,” Clara said quickly, before Stephanie could answer. “Some of the letters are missing. We were wondering if you recognized it.”

Molly shook her head and handed the note back to Stephanie. “Sorry. It doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“Oh, well, we tried.” Stephanie tilted her head to one
side as the jingle of the front doorbell interrupted her. “Sounds like a customer.”

Molly put down her mug and jumped up. “I’ll go.” She actually looked relieved as she sped out of the Nook, and Clara made a face at her cousin. “I don’t think she’s going to help that much.”

Stephanie got up from the couch and handed Clara the note. “Give her a chance. She’ll come around. I’d better get going. My mother will be waiting for me to pick up the kids.”

Clara followed her up the aisle to the front of the shop, her nerves tightening when she saw Molly at the counter talking to Roberta Prince. That was all she needed.

Roberta seemed agitated, talking very fast and loud, while Molly just stood there nodding her head. Stephanie hurried forward, saying, “Can I help you?”

No one can help that woman,
Clara thought, then felt guilty for being uncharitable. She hung back, ready to step in if Stephanie needed her.

“I just can’t believe it!” Roberta flung a carefully manicured hand at Stephanie in a dramatic gesture that would have gone over well on the stage. “What the hell was he thinking?”

Stephanie looked at Molly for help and received a shrug in answer. “Who are we talking about?”

“Rick, of course!” Roberta tugged at the colorful silk scarf that decorated her white shirt. “How could he have bludgeoned a man to death? I know he has a bit of a temper, but I never thought he would go this far.”

Clara closed her eyes, willing herself to stay silent.

To her surprise, she heard Molly say firmly, “Rick hasn’t actually been charged with murder. He’s just being questioned, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” Stephanie added, “that doesn’t prove a thing. All it means is that so far he’s the only one with any connection to the victim.”

Roberta scowled at her. “The body was found in Rick’s truck, and the murder weapon came from his store. What more do you need to be convinced he’s guilty?”

Clara could hold it in no longer. “A whole lot more. I should think you, of all people, would have some faith in him, considering you’ve been chasing after him all these months.”

“Clara—” Stephanie began, but Roberta silenced her with a swift movement of her hand.

Tossing her head, she advanced on Clara. “Trust me, darling, I have never,
ever
needed to chase after anybody. I’m usually the one running away. Rick and I have a special relationship, and until now I was under the impression that he was a decent, law-abiding citizen. Now that the police have arrested him for murder, I’ll have to reevaluate our friendship. If I were you, I’d do the same.”

“Rick hasn’t been arrested.” The soft voice spoke from the doorway, startling them all. No one had noticed the sound of the doorbell, and all heads turned to stare at the newcomer.

John Halloran stood in the doorway, smirking in his delight at causing a disturbance.

Stephanie was the first one to recover. She rushed forward, rudely shoving Roberta aside. “Has something happened? What have you heard?”

Obviously enjoying all the attention, John stepped forward and let the door close behind him. “I know,” he said, in a slow, deliberate tone, “because Rick is at this very minute across the street in the shop.”

Four voices gasped, then all spoke at once.

“When did they let him go?’

“What happened?’

“Thank heavens!”

“Is he okay?” Clara grabbed John’s arm. “He’s all right, isn’t he?”

John’s eyes gleamed behind his glasses. “Why don’t you go see for yourself?”

Roberta fluffed her blonde hair back from her face. “Well,
I’m
going to wait for more news before I go see him.” She stalked over to the door. “If I were you, Clara, I’d think twice about associating with a murder suspect.”

Clara ignored her and turned to Stephanie. Before she could say anything, Stephanie laid a hand on her arm.

“Go ahead. I’ll hang on here until you get back.”

Clara gave her a quick, grateful hug, then dashed out the door. Passing Roberta on the curb, she ran across the street to the hardware store.

Inside the shop, she paused for a moment or two for her eyes to adjust to the contrast from the dazzling sunlight outside. She could see Rick on his knees at the far end of the store, unpacking a large box of electric fans.

She couldn’t see his expression, and uncertain of his mood, she approached him warily. He looked up as she reached him and, to her relief, gave her a wide smile.

Getting to his feet, he said lazily, “Not afraid to visit the felon, then?”

She uttered a snort of disgust. “Idiots. What on earth was Dan thinking, hauling you off to the station like that?”

Rick shrugged. “Can’t say I blame him. Things have been going from bad to worse. Luckily I have a good lawyer.”

“So you’re in the clear?”

He rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Not exactly. The cops didn’t have enough evidence to hold me, so Dan let me go with a warning not to leave town.”

Clara winced. “Ouch. So what are you going to do now?”

“Wait, I guess. And pray a lot.”

“I don’t blame you.” She considered telling him that she and Stephanie were trying to find out who did kill Frank Tomeski, but decided that it was better not to say anything until they had something useful to offer him.

“So, how is Tatters doing?” Rick picked up the empty box and headed for the counter.

Following him, Clara said lightly, “He’s doing fine. I think he misses you, though.”

Rick swung around to look at her. “Really? I thought he hated me. I was always yelling at him.”

She smiled. “Dogs don’t hate you for yelling at them. They are the most forgiving of all creatures. I’ve been
doing some yelling myself, but Tatters and I are best buddies.”

“Has he been giving you a hard time?”

Thinking about her sleepless night, she nevertheless shook her head. “He’s settling down very well. You should see him with my mother. He sleeps at her feet while she’s watching TV.”

Rick grinned. “That I’ve got to see.”

“Then why don’t you come over for dinner some night and witness it for yourself.”

The words were out before she realized what she was saying. She waited nervously for his answer, wondering if she’d stepped over the line. To her relief, he replied with a laugh. “Maybe I will…sometime.”

Deciding it was time to change the subject, she picked up a hammer from the display on his counter. “Is this like the one that was used in the murder?”

His expression changed instantly, and again she could have bitten her tongue for saying the wrong thing. What was it about Rick Sanders that turned her mind to complete mush when she was around him?