Authors: Allison Kingsley

Mind Over Murder (21 page)

BOOK: Mind Over Murder

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With an eye on the clock, she checked out the cash register five minutes early, then picked up Frannie’s book. After locking up, she hurried over to Jordan’s, relieved to see the lights still on.

The store appeared to be empty when she went in, with no sign of anyone behind the long counter. She called out Frannie’s name, hoping she hadn’t missed her after all.

When no one answered her, she ventured farther into the store, still calling for Frannie. She was about to give up when the office door opened, and Roberta stepped out.

“Oh, sorry,” she sang out when she saw Clara. “I didn’t know anyone was here. I was about to lock up.”

“I came in to see Frannie.” Clara held up the book. “She left this on our counter this afternoon.”

Roberta rolled her eyes. “That woman would lose her head if it wasn’t attached to her shoulders. She left early today. Said she had something important to do.”

“Oh.” Clara looked down at the book in her hand. “Well, I could leave it here for her, or I could drop it off at her apartment.”

“Oh, no, don’t bother. She’ll be in tomorrow morning. Here, give it to me.”

Roberta held out her hand, and as she did so, Clara saw something glittering on her wrist.

She moved toward the other woman slowly, her gaze fixed on the shiny objects. As she got close, she held out the book, and Roberta stretched out her hand to take it. Dangling from her wrist was a gold chain, with several tiny gold charms.

Just like the one Dan had in the plastic bag in his office
.

Clara froze, the book still held in her clenched fingers. Roberta dropped her hand, her face a mask of indifference. “Something wrong?”

Don’t let her know what you know.

With an effort, Clara pulled herself together. “Oh, no. I was just admiring your bracelet, that’s all. I’ve seen one like it in a store in New York. It’s lovely.”

“Oh, this?” Roberta shook her hand as if trying to rid herself of an offensive bug. “I don’t know why I still wear it. It keeps catching on things. I’ve already lost three of the charms that way.”

“Oh, what a shame.” Clara fought to keep her voice steady.

“Ah, well, my own fault. I shouldn’t wear it while I’m working. It was given to me by an old friend.” She fingered the charms, her features softening. “It holds a lot of good memories for me. That’s why I like to wear it. Reminds me of happier times.”

Clara felt her throat drying up and coughed. “Well, I’d better get going. My mother will be wondering where I am.”

“What about the book? Did you want to leave it here?”

Realizing she still held the book, Clara thrust it at her.” Tell Frannie I’m sorry I missed her.”

“Of course.” Roberta followed her to the door. “Sorry to hear about your accident, by the way. Frannie told me you’re driving her car until you get a new one.”

Clara’s heart seemed to drop. “Ah . . . yes. I haven’t had time to look for another one yet.”

“I can’t imagine anyone preferring to ride a bike all that way when she could drive. Then again, I guess it’s a lot cheaper.”

“I suppose so. Well, good-night!” Clara shoved open the door and practically fell through it.

She didn’t look back until she was inside Frannie’s car with the door locked. Letting out her breath, she tried to decide what to do.

Dan’s words came back to her.
Anyone could have dropped it there, so don’t go jumping to any wrong conclusions
.

Dan was right. After all, Roberta said she’d lost three of the charms. She must park in the parking lot, too. She could easily have lost one of them just getting into her car.

She made her shoulders relax and turned on the engine.

Anyone who takes classes in auto repair just to meet men is not my idea of a good person
. Clara’s fingers clenched on the wheel. Frannie’s words, talking about Roberta.

She had to talk to Dan again, and right now. She flipped open her cell phone and began to dial 911, then decided it wasn’t really an emergency. Just a bunch of stuff that didn’t necessarily add up. By now Dan was probably at home anyway. It would just have to wait until tomorrow.

She slept badly that night, waking up from a nightmare in the early hours of the morning. Bathed in sweat, she threw off the covers and padded to the bathroom for a glass of water.

She had no choice, she told herself, as she stared at her white face in the mirror. She had to tell Dan what she knew. Maybe it would be enough for Dan to at least take Roberta in for questioning. Then Frannie would be safe for a while and so would she. Having made up her mind, she went back to bed and another fitful sleep until the alarm woke her up.

Her mother was at the stove when she went into the kitchen.

The smell of bacon and coffee tempted her enough to sit down to the breakfast her mother had cooked, though it was hard to enjoy it with everything on her mind.

“Are you all right?” Jessie asked, passing her another slice of toast. “You look awful.”

“I didn’t sleep well.” Clara took the toast and reached for the butter.

“Is it the bed? It’s a new mattress but—”

“It’s not the bed, Mom. The bed is fine. It’s just . . . getting used to being here, that’s all.”

“You miss New York. I knew you would. I don’t know why you came home to live. I knew you would be miserable.”

“I’m not miserable.” Deciding she didn’t want the toast after all, Clara drained her coffee and pushed her chair back. “I’d better get going or I’ll be late.”

Jessie glanced at the clock. “You don’t have to be there until noon.”

“I have an errand to run first.”

Jessie’s forehead creased. “Is everything all right, Clara? You seem nervous, on edge. Is something worrying you? You’re not hurting, are you? I mean, with the accident and everything?”

“No, Mom, I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all.” Clara dropped a kiss on her mother’s cheek and fled.

When she arrived at the police station, Tim greeted her with a huge grin and a cheery “Hi there! What can I do for you?”

Clara nodded her head at Dan’s office door. “I came to see the boss.”

“Oh, he’s not there. He had to go out of town for a couple of days. Is there something I can do?” Tim looked worried. “Someone giving you trouble again?”

Clara hesitated. She liked Tim, but she didn’t feel the same sense of security she felt talking to Dan. “No, it’s okay. I guess I’ll wait for Dan to get back.”

Tim’s frown intensified. “You sure? If it’s important, I’m sure we can take care of it for you.”

“Thanks, but it’s nothing, really. I’ll come back in a couple of days.” She left, trying to convince herself she was doing the right thing.

When Clara arrived at the store, Stephanie greeted her with an anxious frown. “You don’t look good. Didn’t you sleep well?”

Clara grunted. “Who can sleep well with all this stuff going on?”

“What stuff’s going on?” Molly said from behind her.

Taken off guard, Clara floundered. “Ah . . . I was just . . . ah . . .”

“She’s in love,” Stephanie burst out, then cringed as Clara sent her a murderous look.

“With Rick?” Molly’s eyes lit up. “How cool! Does he know?”

“Once and for all, I am not in love with Rick.” Clara glared at her cousin again. “Nor anyone else, for that matter.”

Molly shook her head. “I never know when you two are joking or not,” she said, and marched off down the aisle to the stockroom.

Clara turned on Stephanie. “What the heck was that?”

Stephanie shrugged. “Sorry. I said the first thing that came into my head. Did you get things straightened out with Aunt Jessie, by the way?”

“Yes, I did. No thanks to you.”

“Hey, I was just repeating what Molly was saying.” She tilted her head to one side. “You know, it was awfully sweet of Rick to tell those guys you were engaged just so he could ride to the hospital with you. He’s a really cute guy, you know.”

Clara gritted her teeth. “Forget it, Miss Matchmaker. I’m just not interested.”

Stephanie sighed. “Too bad. You could do a lot worse.”

“He can’t be all that amazing or he’d be married by now.”

“He
was
married once. I don’t know what happened, but he’s been single for a few years now, so I heard.”

Clara fought the temptation, then gave in. “Does he have kids?”

“Not as far as I know.” Stephanie smiled as a customer approached the counter. “He hasn’t mentioned them if he does. Why don’t you ask him?”

“It’s none of my business.” The doorbell rang, putting an end to what was becoming for Clara an uncomfortable conversation.

She glanced at the door, surprised to see Frannie waving at her.

Hurrying over to her, she asked anxiously, “Is everything all right?”

Frannie nodded. “I just wanted to thank you for bringing over the book last night. I had completely forgotten about it until I got home, and then it was too late to come back for it. Roberta gave it to me this morning.”

“Oh, you’re welcome.” Clara smiled in relief. “Have you got time for a cup of coffee?”

Frannie looked anxious. “I guess I could stay for a few minutes. Roberta’s not in yet. She said she’d be late this morning.”

At the mention of Roberta, Clara felt a cold tingle down her back. She led the way to the Nook, hoping they would be alone. Luckily, the last two customers were on the way out, and she had a few moments alone with Frannie.

After filling two mugs with coffee, she handed one to Frannie. “I wanted to ask you: the day of my accident, was Roberta at the store?”

Frannie stared at her for a long moment. “Why do you ask?”

“I . . . ah . . . thought I saw her on the hill that night, but I may have been mistaken.”

“Oh.” Frannie seemed to relax. “Yes, she was in the store that day. She came down for the weekend.” She looked down at her mug. “I never thought I’d be working for her in just a few days. It’s weird how things turn out, isn’t it?”

“It sure is.” Clara tried to suppress a yawn and failed. She took a sip of her coffee and murmured, “I really need this. I’m so sleepy today.”

“Didn’t you sleep well?”

“Nightmares. I woke up in the middle of the night. I had trouble getting to sleep again after that.”

Frannie sank onto an armchair. “I hate when that happens. Funny thing, I had a nightmare the other night. I’ve been meaning to tell you. You were in it.”

Clara sat down on the edge of the couch. “I was?”

Frannie shuddered. “Yes, it was awful. I saw you standing on a rock in the middle of a raging river, and there was a huge whale heading straight for you.”

She cradled her coffee in both hands, as if trying to get warm. “I kept trying to shout at you to warn you that the whale was going to crash into you, but I couldn’t get my voice above a whisper. It was getting closer and closer and nothing I could do could stop it, and . . .” She looked up, her eyes filled with anguish. “Then I woke up.”

Clara’s heart began to thump. Frannie’s voice faded away, drowned out by other voices, all whispering, echoing each other in her mind. They were telling her something. Something desperately important.

She jumped up so fast she tipped her mug over, and coffee splashed down onto the beige rug.

“Oh, dear,” Frannie said, gazing gloomily at the spreading brown stain. “That’ll be hard to get out.”

“Yes, it will.” Clara bounded over to the sink and dragged two sheets of paper towel off the holder. Holding them under the faucet, she ran cold water until they were soaked.

“I’ve heard that egg yolk is good for coffee stains,” Frannie said, leaning forward to watch her dab at the mess.

Clara gritted her teeth. “I don’t happen to have any eggs handy right now.”

“Ah, well, water and vinegar works, too.”

“Or vinegar.”
Please go. I need to think
.

“I could run next door and see if we have any in the store?”

Clara forced a smile. “Thank you, Frannie, but this seems to be working.” She scrubbed harder, leaving tiny little pieces of paper towel embedded in the stain.

“Not very well,” Frannie observed.

To Clara’s utmost relief, Molly appeared at that moment.

“Wow! What happened?” She walked over to stare at the stain.

“Clara spilled her coffee,” Frannie said helpfully.

“No kidding.” Molly shook her head. “That’s gonna be tough to get out.”

“That’s what I said.” Frannie got up to take a closer look at the stain. “Egg yolks or vinegar. That’s the answer.”

Giving up, Clara wadded the last of the paper in her hand and stood up. “Guess I’d better go get some eggs and vinegar then.” She smiled at Frannie. “Thanks for the advice, Frannie.”

Frannie’s face lit up. “I’m happy to help. Any time.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh, my, I’d better get back to the shop. Roberta will be back any minute. If she catches me in here, she’ll cut my head off.”

Clara clutched her stomach as Frannie dashed off, and Molly asked anxiously, “Are you okay? You look like you’re going to hurl.”

“I . . . I’m fine. Excuse me.” Clara dashed for the restroom, the only place she was guaranteed to be alone. She sat in the end cubicle, holding her head in her hands, struggling to make sense of what the voices were telling her.

It was all too vague. Just when she thought she had grasped their meaning, other voices argued and contradicted, like a war of words in her mind.

She heard the restroom door open, and at the sound, the voices grew silent. For a moment, she felt only relief. Then the awesome responsibility of what she knew, or thought she knew, came crashing down on her.

“Clara? Are you all right?”

It was Stephanie’s voice, strained with worry, and Clara stood up. “I’m fine,” she called out, and flushed the toilet before leaving the cubicle.

BOOK: Mind Over Murder

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