“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?”
“No.” He turned back to her. “I closed up early and thought I’d stop by and see how the monster is doing.”
“Tatters?” Just saying his name made her smile. “He’s doing just fine, though he’s not too happy about taking walks in this weather. He can’t wait for the warmer weather to get here.”
Amusement lit up Rick’s face. “He told you that?”
She wondered what he’d say if she told him she could read the dog’s thoughts. “I know he finds it hard to leave a warm bed to go out in the cold.”
“I know exactly how he feels.” Rick glanced at the window. “I haven’t seen him a while. Mind if I tag along on one of your walks?”
“Of course not!” She tried not to sound too thrilled. “Tatters would love that.”
“Okay. It’s a date. Just let me know when.” He walked over to the door and looked back at her. “See you later, then.”
She smiled and nodded. “Later.”
The door closed, and her smile faded. He hadn’t seemed in the least disturbed by seeing her in another man’s arms, even if it was just a casual hug. In fact, he’d joked about it. Not that she knew exactly what she’d expected him to say, but complete indifference wasn’t too encouraging.
Why couldn’t she ever tell what he was thinking, much less read his mind? Why was it that whenever she needed the Quinn Sense the most, that was the precise moment it always let her down?
Angry at everything, she slammed the cash drawer shut and sat down at the computer. She needed something to take her mind off Rick Sanders and his infuriating attitude.
Minutes later, realizing she’d overreacted—something she tended to do when it concerned Rick—she closed down the computer and prepared to close up shop. Tomorrow was another day. Hopefully it would be a better one.
She locked the door and started walking briskly down the hill to her car, her mind still on Rick. He said he’d like to join her on her walk with Tatters. He didn’t say when. Would he just forget about it, leaving her wondering when he was going to take up the offer? Or would he drop by and surprise her when she was unprepared, so she’d waste yet another opportunity to find out exactly how he felt about her?
Annoyed with herself, she opened the car door and climbed inside. What did it matter, anyway? She wasn’t even certain how she felt about him. Oh, sure, she was attracted to him. After all, he was good to look at, fun to be with, kind and considerate—all the things that attracted her to a man.
Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she was still too afraid of getting hurt again. Maybe unconsciously she was putting up barriers. Then again, if he was really interested, wouldn’t he make an effort to break those barriers down?
Driving down the hill, she growled under her breath in frustration. Why did everything have to be so complicated?
She had almost reached the bottom of the hill when a shadow stepped out into the middle of the road. Instinct jammed her foot down on the brake, and she swerved to avoid hitting the idiot with an apparent death wish.
She hit the curb hard and the car fishtailed for a few yards, then came to a screeching halt. Trembling, she cut off the engine and swiveled around in her seat to stare at the road behind her. There was no one there.
She blinked, staring into the shadows cast by the storefronts. It wasn’t quite dark yet, and she could see the street clearly. There was no doubt in her mind that someone had stepped out in front of her, yet there was no sign of anyone on the sidewalks.
Whoever it was couldn’t have disappeared that fast. She stared again, willing the mystery man or woman to make an appearance and prove she wasn’t going out of her mind.
She was about to turn back and restart the engine, when a slight movement caught her eye. She saw someone moving along the storefronts, slowly, as if he were feeling his way. He reached the bank and put his hand on the door.
Finding it locked, he backed away, then turned so she could see his face. She recognized him at once. It was Scott Delwyn, or at least, his ghost, and his mouth was wide open, as if crying out for help.
Clara blinked, and the vision disappeared. The lights of a car appeared at the top of the hill, heading down toward her. She quickly restarted the engine and pulled away from the curb. Whatever Scott was trying to tell her, it was obviously becoming more urgent. Tomorrow she would talk to Janice, and do her best to find out what the connection was between his death and the bank robbery.
Walking Tatters that night, she kept looking over her shoulder, half expecting Rick to pop up somewhere and surprise her. When he didn’t appear, she returned home disappointed and disgruntled.
Tatters kept looking up at her, as if trying to understand why she was in such a funk. She couldn’t tell him, of course. She wasn’t even sure herself. Everything seemed to be coming down on her head at once, leaving her confused and frustrated, and there seemed no end in sight.
The following morning, she got up early and left the house with plenty of time for her visit to the bank. There were two customers waiting in line when she walked in—an elderly man in jeans, a heavy jacket and a baseball cap, and a woman carrying a briefcase and an umbrella.
Janice took the man’s deposit, while Alison, the other teller, waited on the woman. Clara was relieved when the man left first, giving her the opportunity to talk to Janice.
The bank teller, however, wasn’t a lot of help. “I don’t remember too much,” she said, when Clara asked her what happened. “I was too scared. I’d never seen a gun in someone’s hand before—except on TV, anyway. It was like my eyes were glued to it. I just took the money out of the drawer and handed it over. Besides, Dan told me the robber was wearing a ski mask. It was on the security cameras. Even if I had looked, I couldn’t have seen his face.”
“You didn’t recognize anything about him? His voice? The way he walked? Something about his hand when he took the money?”
Janice shook her head. “I never looked up that far. Like I said, I was staring at the gun, praying it wouldn’t go off. As for his voice, he never spoke. He just held up the note asking for all the money in my drawer.”
Clara let out her breath in frustration. “What happened to the note?”
“He took it with him.” Janice nodded. “He was a sly one. He didn’t leave any clues behind.”
Clara thanked her and headed for the door. Not that she’d really expected to find out anything new. Still, she’d hoped that Janice would say something that might give her a hint at a connection between the robbery and Scott’s death.
She reached the door and stepped outside, shivering as a cold blast from the sea lifted her hair. She was about to cross the sidewalk to her car when a voice spoke softly behind her.
“Excuse me?”
Clara turned, surprised to see the woman customer from the bank. “Can I help you?”
“I think I can help you.” The woman looked up and down the street, then added, “I couldn’t help overhearing you asking that teller about the robbery.”
Clara held her breath for a moment.
The woman glanced over her shoulder again. “It’s obviously important to you, and there’s something I didn’t tell the police,” she said, speaking so low Clara had trouble understanding her. “I don’t want to get involved, so I have to ask you to promise not to tell anyone that I told you.”
Excited now, Clara nodded. “I promise.”
“I figure you must have a personal reason to want to know about the robbery, so that’s why I’m telling you.”
“You’re right, and I’d really appreciate anything you can tell me.”
“Well, when the robber came in, he made everyone lie facedown on the floor.” Again the woman looked over her shoulder. “I was closest to him when he walked over to the counter. I saw his shoes.�
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Clara frowned. “His shoes?”
The woman nodded. “That’s all I saw of him, but he had sneakers on. You know, the kind that have those built-up soles? They were black, with three bright gold stars on the sides.”
“Ah.” Now Clara understood. “They were distinctive.”
“Very.” The woman looked worried. “I know I should have mentioned it to the police, but like I said, I really don’t want to get involved. So, if they do find out about it, please don’t tell them I told you.”
“Don’t worry.” Clara smiled. “I don’t know your name or where you live or anything about you. I couldn’t tell them who you are even if I wanted to, which I don’t.”
Relief shone in the woman’s face. “Thank you. I hope you find that dreadful man. I just thank the good Lord he didn’t hurt or kill anyone. Good luck to you.”
She hurried off, leaving Clara to stare after her. Black shoes with gold stars. Maybe she could ask at the shoe store if they remember someone buying shoes like that. Unless the robber had bought them online. Then she’d be out of luck. Which wouldn’t surprise her, since every move she’d made in this investigation had ended up a dead end.
11
Arriving at the bookstore later that morning, Clara was relieved to find Stephanie there on her own with no customers to wait on. It gave her a chance to tell her cousin what she’d found out at the bank.
“We should tell Dan,” Stephanie said, when Clara was finished. “It could help him catch the robber.”
“Well, let’s see how popular the sneakers are.” Clara walked behind the counter and sat down at the computer. A few clicks later and she had a page of footwear pictures in front of her. “Here we go.”
Stephanie joined her at the computer. “I see black shoes with one gold star. Can’t see any with three, though.”
“Okay, let’s try again.” After clicking around the web a few times, Clara leaned back. “Well, if they’re out there, they’re not that popular.”
“Okay, then!” Stephanie reached for her purse. “We start staring at men’s feet from now on.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Stephanie headed for the aisles, calling out over her shoulder, “You know, even if Dan catches the robber, that doesn’t mean he had anything to do with Scott’s death. Even if he did kill Scott, he’s not going to confess. So unless you have had second thoughts about there being a link there, we still have to find that connection.”
“I know.” Clara got up from the chair. “And I haven’t had second thoughts. I saw Scott again last night.”
Stephanie had disappeared between the shelves, but seconds later she popped her head out again. “What did you say?”
“I saw Scott again. He was at the bank and he was crying for help.”
“Did he say anything?”
“No.” Clara picked up a box of pens and started stacking them in a display holder. “But I’ve got a strong feeling that he’s getting desperate, like he’s running out of time.”
Stephanie raised her eyebrows. “I’d say he’s already run out of time.”
“You know what I mean. I think he wants us to find out who killed him before something happens.”
“Like what?”
Clara shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Stephanie shook her head. “I don’t think we’ll ever get to the truth of this one.”
“Don’t say that.” Clara shoved the last pen in place. “We can’t give up. Let’s just keep looking for those shoes.”
“All right, but I really wish the Quinn Sense would be more helpful.”
Just as the words were out of her mouth, the door opened and Molly danced in, a large shopping bag swinging in her hand. “Hi, you guys!”
Stephanie stared at her in amazement. “What are you doing here on your day off?”
Molly grinned. “I was shopping for a new outfit and thought I’d stop by for a free cup of coffee and a donut.” She looked around the store. “Wow, where is everyone? You’re not exactly rushed off your feet.”
“Don’t remind me.” Looking grim, Stephanie headed for the door. “If this keeps up, I’ll go broke by the end of the year.”
“It’s a temporary lull,” Clara said, shaking her head at Molly. Knowing how her cousin worried about keeping up sales, she added, “We’ve had them before and we always make up for them later.”
“We’ve got a long way to go before the summer tourists get here.” Stephanie looked back at her. “I hope we can hold on that long.”
“We’ll have to come up with a promotion of some kind.” Clara looked at Molly. “There’s something you can help us with—come up with a great idea to promote the bookstore.”
“Sounds like fun!” Molly wandered over to the aisles. “I’ll think about it while I’m drinking my coffee.” She disappeared in the direction of the Nook.
“See you later.” Stephanie gave her a cousin a wave and stepped out into the street.
Left alone at the counter, Clara tried to concentrate on ideas for a promotion. When nothing came to her, she decided a cup of coffee might jog her brain, too.
Molly was munching on a donut when Clara joined her in the Nook. “These are good,” she said as Clara poured coffee into a mug. “Chocolate frosting is my favorite.”
“Mine, too.” Clara carried her mug over to the couch and sat down. “The problem is that all that sugar and fat sticks to my hips.”
Molly laughed. “You’re lucky. You’re so tall you don’t have to worry about looking fat.”
Clara winced. “Trust me, it still shows if I let it get out of hand.”
“Well, you look great.” Molly took another bite of her donut, swallowed, then added, “Seen Rick lately?”
Clara eyed her warily. “He comes in now and then.”
“No, I mean, have you seen him? Outside of work.”
“Not for a while.” Anxious to change the subject, Clara added, “What about you? Are you seeing that nice young man from the construction site?”
“You mean Brad?” Molly grinned. “No, but we’ll be hanging out soon. I got a text message from him this morning. He asked me out on a date.” She nodded at the shopping bag at her feet. “He’s the reason I went shopping. To get a new outfit. Wanna see it?”
Without waiting for a reply, she dived into the bag and pulled out a red velvet top and black skirt. “What do you think?”
Clara nodded her approval. “Love it. That should get his attention.”
“I’m counting on it.” Molly stuffed the clothes in the bag and jumped to her feet. “Gotta run. See you on Wednesday.”
Clara called out to her departing friend, “Enjoy your date.” Leaning back on the couch, she sipped her coffee. She remembered when she used to rush off like that, excited about meeting a guy she liked. It seemed a long time ago now.
Since New York she had dated no one, unless she could call the occasional dinner with Rick a date. Even then, he had made it sound like a thank you for taking care of Tatters, rather than an opportunity to spend time with her.
At first she’d been relieved about that, but lately she’d been feeling sort of let down, disappointed even. It seemed that she was finally getting over her breakup with Matt, and was ready to move on. Now if only she knew exactly where she stood with Rick, things would be a lot less complicated.
She envied Molly, so secure and confident, that a simple text message could make her day.
Clara put her mug down. Text message. Brad had said that Scott received a text message that apparently had upset him the day he died. She’d meant to ask Karen about it, but the suggestion that Scott may have killed himself had driven all thoughts from her mind.
There was something else she had forgotten. If Scott had received a text message from someone, the message should still be on his cell phone.
Excited now, she pulled out her own cell phone and thumbed Stephanie’s speed dial number.
Her cousin answered on the third ring. “Hold
on a minute,” she said, then added offstage, “I’ve told you before, Olivia. Cats do not like wearing clothes. Take that T-shirt off Jasper and leave him alone.”
Olivia’s voice could be heard in the distance. Then Stephanie again. “I don’t care what Michael said. Jasper has a fur coat to keep him warm. Are you still there?”
This last was spoken into the phone.
Clara sighed. “I’m still here. That’s if you’re talking to me.”
“Sorry, but you know how it is. I’m constantly on watch here.”
“I know. I won’t keep you. I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to see Karen again tomorrow.”
“You are?” Stephanie sounded worried. “Has something happened?”
“No, not really. I just got to thinking about that text message that Scott saw on the day he died. We forgot to ask Karen if she sent it.”
“Oh, crap, we did. So you’re going to ask her about it?”
“Yes, I am. And if she didn’t send it, it should still be on his phone, so we can find out who did.”
“That’s right! We should have thought about that.”
“It could give us a lead.”
“It could.” Stephanie paused. “Do you want me to go with you?”
“No, it’ll be better if I go alone. I’ll stop by the store afterward and tell you if I find out anything.”
“Okay.” Again the pause. “You spoke to Janice without me and now Karen.”
“I have more time than you do. I don’t have a husband and three kids. Besides, tomorrow is my day off.”
“I know. It’s just that we’ve always done this stuff together and . . .”
“You’re feeling left out.”
“Sort of, I guess.”
Clara smiled. “I’m just going to run over and have a quick word with Karen. I promise if I do any serious sleuthing, I’ll expect you to be there.”
“Oh, I will! Just say the word.”
Clara hung up, still smiling. She and Stephanie had grown up practically joined at the hip. She’d missed her cousin when she’d first moved to New York, so much so that she’d considered moving back to Finn’s Harbor the first few weeks she was away. Then her new life had taken over and the cousins had gradually spent less time on the phone, sent fewer e-mails and spent little time together during Clara’s brief visits home.
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