A Sinister Sense (23 page)

Roberta sniffed. “I’m surprised at you, Clara. I thought you had more intelligence and common sense than that. I feel sorry for you.” She opened the door and marched outside.

Clara had a childish urge to stick out her tongue. Instead she stomped down the aisle to the Nook and poured herself a cup of coffee. In spite of what she’d said to Roberta, she had the uncomfortable feeling that most of the people in town would feel as Roberta did.

Some of them had already condemned Rick, and this would only reinforce their convictions. Many more would follow in their footsteps, if she didn’t do something to prove that Mayor Carson Dexter was the one the police should have in custody.

She arrived home that evening to find Tatters once
more locked up in the utility room. He showed his appreciation for being freed by leaping up at her in an attempt to lick her face. His enthusiasm quite literally bowled her over, and she landed on her back in the hallway.

It reminded her of when Roberta landed in a heap on the street, and being reminded of Roberta did not put her in the best of moods. She yelled at the dog, who slunk away with his tail between his legs. Instantly regretting taking out her annoyance on Tatters, she went after him and found him curled up on her bed. It took a few minutes of soothing words and constant petting before he finally lifted his head and licked her face.

“I’m sorry, boy,” she said, cuddling an arm around his neck. “You were so happy to see me, and I didn’t mean to be such a grouch. How about we share a sandwich to make up for it?”

Tatters’ ears pricked up, and he leapt from the bed, tail swishing back and forth. He followed her across the living room and into the kitchen, and stood close to her while she spread mayonnaise on bread and stuffed ham and cheese between the slices.

After opening a jar of pickles, she fished out a couple and added them to the plate. “That’s good enough,” she muttered, and Tatters whined in response.

She had just finished eating and was cleaning up the kitchen when the doorbell rang, making Tatters bark. He rushed over to the front door and stood there, waiting expectantly with quivering ears as Clara opened the door.

Stephanie stepped forward and then halted as Tatters
uttered a low growl. “Wow,” she murmured. “Good watchdog.”

“It’s all right, boy.” Clara smoothed the ruffled hair on the back of the dog’s neck. “She’s family.”

Tatters stopped growling and started wagging his tail instead.

“Impressive.” Stephanie stepped into the hallway and closed the door. “He understood what you said.”

Clara smiled. “Tatters, this is my cousin, Stephanie. Steffie, meet Tatters.”

Tatters sat down and offered his paw.

Stephanie gaped, and even Clara felt a jolt of surprise. “You’d better shake it,” she said, “or you’ll offend him.”

Stephanie gingerly grasped the paw and gave it a little shake. “Pleased to meet you.”

Tatters yawned, got up and strolled back into the living room.

“He gets bored easily,” Clara said, watching her cousin’s eyebrows rise.

“I guess so.” Grinning, Stephanie followed the dog into the living room.

“You want a cup of coffee?” Clara crossed the room to the kitchen.

“What, no wine?”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” She opened the fridge and took out a bottle. “I just happen to have a bottle of chardonnay on hand.”

“Good.” Stephanie walked over to the table and sat down. “So, how are you holding up?”

“Not bad, all things considered.” Clara pulled out the cork with a loud
pop
that made Tatters jump.

Stephanie watched him in amusement. “You were right. He’s a big dog.”

“Tell me about it. You want to try sleeping with him.”

“No, thanks. I have enough trouble fighting George for the covers.” Stephanie held out her hand to the dog and received a wet lick. “How does Aunt Jessie get along with him?”

“She adores him, though she’d be the last one to admit it.” Clara brought two wineglasses to the table and sat down. “She keeps threatening to ban him from the house, but I know she’d be devastated if anything happened to him. I think she enjoys the company. She’s been lonely since Dad died.”

“Oh, I thought she was going out with Tony Manetas.”

Clara rolled her eyes. “Bite your tongue. I wouldn’t want that man for a stepfather.”

Stephanie laughed. “He’s harmless. Just obvious, that’s all. Besides, I can’t see Aunt Jessie allowing anyone to get the better of her.” She took a sip of wine and nodded her appreciation. “Do you think she’ll ever get married again?”

Clara felt a stab of apprehension. “I don’t know. I don’t want her to be lonely, but I’d hate to see her tied to someone who might make her unhappy.”

“What about you? Don’t you want to get married?”

Clara frowned. “When did this get to be about me? What kind of question is that?”

Stephanie gazed at her over the rim of her glass. “You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

“Thanks. I’m only thirty-one. Not exactly ancient.”

“Like I said before, I just don’t want you to let one bad experience put you off ever getting married.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

Obviously realizing that she was pushing the wrong buttons, Stephanie put down her glass. “All right, tell me why you wanted me to come over tonight.”

Thankful for the change in subject, Clara told her everything she’d learned from her research on the computer.

When she was done, she sat back, anxiously waiting for her cousin’s reaction.

“Wow,” Stephanie said, her eyes wide with shock. “It does look like Carson Dexter could be the killer.” She paused, apparently thinking it over. “But the
mayor
, Clara. How are we ever going to convince Dan of that?”

“I was hoping you’d come up with one of your brilliant ideas.”

“You always say my ideas get us into trouble.”

“Well, now and then you come up with a good one. I—” She broke off as Tatters uttered a menacing growl. “What is it, boy?”

Tatters got up, ears quivering and tail standing straight up like a banner.

“Yoo-hoo! I’m home!”

Clara rolled her eyes as Jessie’s voice rang out from the hallway.

Tatters barked in excitement and tore out of the kitchen.

Stephanie looked amused. “Do you think he’ll flatten her?”

“He might. He did me when I got home tonight.”

“You’re kidding.” Stephanie turned her head. “Sounds like Aunt Jessie has things under control.”

From the hallway came the sound of scuffling and Jessie’s laughter.

“She always has things under control,” Clara muttered. She got up from the table. “Guess we’ll have to finish this conversation later.”

Stephanie got up, too. “Don’t worry, Clara. We’ll think of something.” She couldn’t say any more as Jessie poked her head in the kitchen doorway. “Oh, there you are. Hello, Stephanie, dear. I thought I recognized your car.” She looked around. “George and the kids didn’t come with you?”

“No, I just popped in to…ah…discuss business at the store.” Stephanie walked over to her aunt and gave her a hug. “How are you?”

“Wonderful. How are the children? I haven’t seen them in ages.”

“I’ll have you over for dinner real soon.” Stephanie turned to Clara. “It’s your day off tomorrow. Make the most of it.”

Interpreting the hidden message, Clara nodded. “I’ll try.”

“You don’t have to leave yet, do you?” Jessie walked
with Stephanie to the hallway. “Can’t you stay and chat for a while?”

“I wish I could.” Stephanie glanced at her watch. “I should get back. The kids always take advantage of George when I’m not there, and heaven knows what they are up to by now.”

“George is a grown man. He should be able to take care of his own kids.”

Stephanie smiled. “You’d think. The truth is, he’s a pushover with them and they know it.”

Jessie shook her head. “I still find it hard to believe that you’re the mother of three children. It doesn’t seem all that long ago that you two were kids yourselves.” She closed her eyes and clutched her heart. “I hope to goodness your children are easier to handle than you two were. You were never happy unless you were playing tricks on someone or other.”

Stephanie laughed. “I guess we were a bit unruly.”

“Unruly?” Jessie shook her head. “My dear, you two were holy terrors. I still shudder every time I remember the night you convinced your babysitter she was seeing a ghost and just about gave her a heart attack. She never came near this house again. What’s more, she told all her friends. Your mother and I had the devil of a time trying to find a babysitter after that.”

“She was an idiot. Any sane person could tell it wasn’t a ghost.” Stephanie opened the front door. “Thanks for the wine, Clara.”

Jessie twisted her head around to look at Clara. “Wine? Any left?”

“Half a bottle.” Clara nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “Help yourself.”

Waving good-night to Stephanie, Jessie disappeared into the living room.

“Don’t worry,” Stephanie whispered. “We’ll work something out. Just enjoy your day off tomorrow.”

“I’ll try,” Clara promised, though she could see the day stretching ahead of her with nothing to do but worry about Rick.

She closed the door and went hunting for Tatters’ leash. A walk along the beach would help clear her mind and perhaps give her some ideas of what to do next. Right then she couldn’t seem to think about anything except Rick on a narrow cot in a holding cell, scared out of his mind.

Had he been formally charged? she wondered. The sound of the TV tempted her to watch the news with her mother, but she dismissed the idea. The last thing she needed tonight was another long discussion on how stupid she was to believe a man innocent, despite all the evidence pointing otherwise.

Poking her head around the living room door, she announced, “I’m taking the dog for a walk. I won’t be long.”

Jessie nodded and waved her wineglass at her. “I’ll just finish this and then I’m going to bed. Oh, by the way, I suppose you heard that your hardware man has been arrested.”

“Yes, I did. Good-night, Mother.” Clara withdrew her head, called out to Tatters and was out the door before she had time to hear her mother’s answer.

The walk did little to chase away her troubled thoughts, and she spent a restless night tossing around in her bed. She awoke the next morning to the sound of Tatters barking and the doorbell ringing frantically. It took her a moment or two to remember it was her day off, and she considered ignoring the doorbell. The persistent pealing was annoying, however, and with a muttered curse she fell out of bed and dragged on her robe.

Outside in the hallway, Tatters leapt up and down, his deep barks sending shafts of pain through her head. She gave him a sharp command as she headed for the front door and pulled it open.

Stephanie stood on the front step, her face glowing with excitement. “I’ve got the greatest idea! I really think it will work if we—” She broke off, her gaze traveling down Clara’s body as if just noticing her for the first time. “Oh crap. Did I wake you up?”

“You probably woke up the entire neighborhood.” Clara peered down the street, to where a teenager dragged a buzzing lawn mower across a front lawn. “What’s the time, anyway?”

Stephanie glanced at her watch. “It’s a little after nine. Sorry. I keep forgetting you sleep late.”

“It’s okay. Come in. I’ll get us some coffee.” Clara closed the door behind her cousin. “Maybe then I can get my brain to function.” She led the way into the living
room, then paused when a thought struck her. “Why aren’t you at the store? There isn’t any more news, is there? About Rick, I mean.”

“No, not that I’ve heard, anyway.” Stephanie followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the table. “That’s not why I’m here. I thought it better to talk about this in person than on the phone.”

“Talk about what?”

“You asked me to come up with an idea of how we can prove the mayor killed Frank Tomeski.”

Jessie had left the coffeepot on, and Clara emptied it into two mugs. Carrying them over to the table, she asked, “So what’s the idea?”

Stephanie looked a little sheepish. “Well, it’s kind of complicated. Maybe you should drink your coffee first.”

Frowning, Clara opened the fridge and took out a carton of milk. Stephanie’s ideas were notorious for being impractical at best and downright dangerous at worst. Already Clara was having qualms about it. She handed Stephanie the milk and sat down. The coffee tasted bitter and wasn’t all that hot, but it woke her up enough to listen to her cousin’s latest brain wave.

Stephanie took her time pouring milk into her coffee. She sipped it and pulled a face before putting the mug down. “I love Aunt Jessie dearly, but she makes the worst coffee I ever tasted.”

“How do you know she made it?”

“Because you just fell out of bed.”

“Oh, right.” Clara ran a hand through her tangled hair. “I must look a mess.”

Stephanie grinned. “I wouldn’t suggest paying Rick Sanders a visit looking like that.”

Clara decided to ignore the insult and said instead, “Which brings us to your idea. So, tell me.”

Stephanie drew in a long breath. “All right. Remember what Aunt Jessie said last night about us making our babysitter think she was seeing a ghost?”

“Yeah, I think I can remember that far back.”

Stephanie sighed. “Well, I thought we could make Carson Dexter think he was seeing the ghost of Amy Tomeski coming to haunt him. It might unnerve him enough for him to confess what he did.”

Clara stared at her. “Are you
nuts
? Our babysitter was a gullible teenager. Carson Dexter is a grown man and, if we’re right, a dangerous killer. How on earth are we going to fool him?”

Stephanie pouted. “I don’t think the mayor is a dangerous killer. I think he might have gotten caught up in the circumstances and did something he wouldn’t normally do. I think he’s probably scared right now, and if we can catch him off guard, we might get him to say something that would give us the proof we need.”

Clara stared at her over the rim of her coffee mug. “You know, sometimes you actually make sense.”