Trouble Vision

by Allison Kingsley

  All that was behind her now, and it was good to have back that close relationship with her cousin. As for her mother, she still had to work on that one.

  Hearing the doorbell, Clara left her chair and headed for the front of the store. She was surprised to see Tim at the counter and hurried over to him, wondering if he had some news for her about the robbery.

  Her hopes were dashed when he greeted her. “I just stopped in to thank you for the great book you picked out for my mother. She loves it, and told me she’s going to look for that author’s next book.”

  Clara smiled. “I’m so glad she likes it. I thought she might.”

  Tim stuck his hands in his pockets. “Not too busy in here today?”

  “It’s a Monday. They’re always quiet.” She walked behind the counter. “Just as well, since I’m holding down the fort on my own.”

  He nodded. “Pretty cool job here. No stress.”

  “Not like yours.” She did her best to sound indifferent. “How’s the investigation into the bank robbery going?”

  Tim shrugged. “Going nowhere, if you want the truth. Looks like that one got away.”

  She was starting to feel guilty, wondering if she should mention the shoes. Then she remembered that frightened customer’s face who’d begged her not to tell anyone. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “That must be so frustrating.”

  “It is. Finn Harbor’s first bank robbery in living memory and we can’t catch the guy. It makes it look bad for the chief. For all of us, I guess.”

  She decided to take a chance. “What about the security cameras? Didn’t they give you any clues?”

  “Nothing. The guy was wearing a heavy jacket and a ski mask. Could have been anyone.”

  “What about his feet?”

  Tim blinked. “His feet?”

  “I was just wondering if the cameras showed his whole body or just his head.”

  “Ah.” Tim still looked somewhat confused. “I don’t really remember. I’m sure we would have noticed though, if there’d been anything unusual.”

  Clara let out her breath. She’d done all she could. For now. If she or Stephanie spotted someone wearing black shoes with gold stars, however, she would have to tell Dan and Tim what she knew.

  “Well, I’d better get going.” Tim seemed reluctant to leave as he turned for the door. “See you later.”

  Clara felt a cold draft as he closed the door behind him. Tim was a nice man. She wondered why he hadn’t hooked up with someone by now. Or maybe he had and was keeping it quiet. She wandered to the window and looked out. Tim had already disappeared down the hill.

  Across the street, the lights gleamed behind the windows of the hardware store. A fog was creeping in from the ocean, blotting out the sun. A truck rumbled past, probably on its way to the construction site.

  Clara wondered where Brad would take Molly for their date. Feeling that pang of envy again, she turned her back on the window. Time to get the shelves straightened up. It would help keep her mind off things.

  Later that evening, she set off down the street with Tatters eagerly trotting along in front of her. The fog was thicker now, spinning moist webs around the streetlamps. As she approached the beach, she could hear the roar of the ocean as it pounded the sand with cold fury.

  “It’s too cold to go out there,” she told Tatters as he jerked on the leash, anxious to run on the sand.

  The truth was, the sands looked forbidding in the murky darkness. She was already unnerved by visions she’d had of the late Scott Delwyn, and she was in no mood to venture onto that stretch of lonely beach.

  Tatters trudged along at her side as she retraced her steps, obviously disappointed by the short walk. As she opened the front door to let him in the house, he looked up at her.

  Roll on, summer.

  “Amen. And quit that.”

  She followed him into the hallway just as her mother emerged from the kitchen.

  “Who were you talking to?” Jessie said, as Clara closed the door.

  “Myself.” Clara leaned down to undo Tatters’ collar. “I was wishing it was summer. That fog is miserably cold and wet.”

  “Oh, I thought maybe you had company on your walk.” Jessie looked down at the floor. “One of these days, Tatters, I’ll teach you how to wipe your feet before you come in.”

  Good luck with that.

  Clara coughed. “I’m going to get a cup of coffee. Want some?”

  “No, I think I’m going to bed. I have to get an early start in the morning. We’re setting up an exhibit at the library and it has to be finished before we open.”

  Jessica set off for her room, leaving Clara to enjoy her coffee alone.

  The following morning, Clara called Karen to see if she would be home. The widow seemed happy to hear from her and an hour later Clara was ringing her doorbell.

  After bringing in coffee and a plate of banana bread, Karen sat down with Clara in her tastefully furnished living room. “I’m glad you stopped by,” she said as Clara helped herself to a slice of the bread. “I wanted to talk to you. I’m going back to work next week. They’ve offered me a full-time job at Harley’s department store in Mittleford. I was working there part-time, but now I’m going to need the money. Scott had life insurance, but that won’t go far with two girls to raise.”

  Clara swallowed her mouthful of bread. “That’s a great store. It might be good for you to get back to work. It will help take your mind off things.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it will.” Karen picked up her coffee. “About the insurance, though. The insurance company won’t pay on the policy if the death is a suicide. So I hope you won’t take what I said too seriously about Scott killing himself. I was upset and not thinking straight.”

  Clara hurried to reassure her. “Of course not! I never did think he killed himself, anyway.”

  Karen gave her an intent look. “You didn’t?”

  Realizing she’d probably said too much, Clara cleared her throat. “No . . . ah . . . I mean . . . from what you’ve said about him, Scott didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would do that. I mean, he had everything to live for. You, the girls, his job . . .”

  Karen shrugged. “I still think something was worrying him, but maybe you’re right. It’s hard to believe that he was in so much trouble he couldn’t bear to tell me about it.”

  Clara reached for her coffee. “Did you, by any chance, send him a text message the day he died?”

  Karen looked startled. “A text message?”

  “Yes. Someone mentioned that Scott received a text message that day and that it seemed to upset him.”

  Now Karen looked frightened. “I knew he was into something bad. I wonder who it was.”

  “Well, there’s one way to find out. The message should still be on his cell phone.”

  Karen’s eyes grew wide. “That’s weird. His cell phone wasn’t with the rest of his stuff they gave to me. I didn’t realize that until now. He never went anywhere without that phone. I wonder where it went.”

  Clara was wondering the same thing. “I’ll be talking to Dan later on today,” she said casually. “I’ll ask him for you.”

  “Thanks.” Karen was still frowning. “Though now I’m not sure I want to know what’s on it.”

  “You can always delete everything without reading it.”

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  “Well, let’s see first if Dan has the phone. I’ll call you after I’ve talked to him.”

  “Thanks.” Karen sighed. “I should be calling him myself, but I just can’t seem to face talking about what happened yet.”

  “I know. I’m sorry, Karen. This must be so hard for you.”

  “Having friends like you helps.” Karen gave her a weak smile then frowned as her doorbell rang. “Who can that be?” She glanced at the clock and rose to her feet. “Sorry, Clara. I won’t be a minute.”

  She headed for the front door, and Clara grabbed the opportunity to take another slice of the
banana bread. Karen was wasting her talents in a department store, she thought, as she munched on the tangy, sweet bread. She should open up a bakery.

  She heard Karen’s voice at the door. “It’s nice to see you, Thelma. Come on in.”

  The voice that answered was vaguely familiar. Then Clara remembered: Karen’s next-door neighbor. She’d met her at the funeral.

  Karen appeared in the doorway and ushered in the chubby woman. “Thelma, this is Clara Quinn. She works in the Raven’s Nest bookstore.”

  “Of course! I remember!” Her face wreathed in smiles, Thelma toddled toward Clara, holding out her hand. “How are you, honey? We met at Scott’s funeral, remember? Super to see you again!”

  Clara shook the thick fingers and let go, murmuring, “Nice to see you, too.”

  “Sorry if I’m interrupting,” Thelma said, eyeing the banana bread with unabashed enthusiasm. “I just stopped in to give you my news.”

  “You’re not interrupting anything,” Karen said, picking up the plate of bread. “Sit down and have a slice of bread. Clara and I were just . . . ah . . . talking.”

  “About books,” Clara said, seeing the uncomfortable look on her friend’s face.

  “Oh, I don’t have time to read books.” Thelma took a slice of the bread with a nod of thanks. “Especially now that I’m packing up.”

  Karen raised her eyebrows. “Packing up?”

  Her mouth too full of bread to speak, Thelma nodded, waving her hand while chewing furiously until she finally swallowed. “We’re moving. Ray’s been offered a job in Portland. At last he’ll be working again. I must say, it’s a huge relief. No more scrimping and saving just so I can keep him fed.” She laughed, patted her chest and burped. “Things have been tough since my old man left.”

  Catching the flash of light from the large diamond on Thelma’s finger, Clara wondered what had happened to the woman’s husband.

  “Good thing we don’t own the house,” Thelma added, bringing the rest of the bread up to her mouth. “That’s the nice thing about renting, you can just pick up and leave when you want.” She took another huge bite of the bread, leaving a tiny piece in her fingers.

  “You’re right.” Karen sighed. “I’ve thought about moving since Scott . . . passed away. This house has so many memories, it’s hard to live with them here. But the thought of having to sell right now gives me nightmares.”

  Thelma nodded. “Know what you mean. When I got divorced, the first thing I did was put the house up for sale. Not that I got much for it, but I couldn’t afford the mortgage on the pittance Ralph got away with for alimony.”

  Deciding she’d heard enough, Clara got up. “Sorry to eat and run, but I really should get going. I have to be at the store soon.”

  “Oh, of course.” Karen shot up while Thelma settled back on her chair, obviously planning to stay for the long haul.

  Feeling sorry for her friend, Clara said good-bye to the chatty woman and headed for the front door.

  “Thanks for coming over,” Karen said as Clara stepped outside.

  Blinking in the glare of sunlight, Clara smiled. “Good luck with the job. Let us know if you need anything. I truly mean that.”

  “I know you do.” Karen looked sad. “I’ll be fine . . . eventually.”

  Clara’s heart ached for the young widow as she crossed the sidewalk to her car. How awful it must be to lose a husband and to be left alone to raise two daughters. Karen seemed to be holding up all right publicly, but inside she must be going through agony.

  Angry all over again at the people who had caused such tragedy, Clara silently renewed her vow to hunt down the killers and see them punished for their horrible crime.

  She was fired up now, and ready to tackle Dan. At least this time she had a legitimate reason to call on him.

  12

  The police chief seemed less than pleased to see her when he answered her knock on his office door. “Don’t tell me,” he said, as she sat down in front of his desk. “You know who robbed the bank and you’ve got him tied up somewhere waiting for me to arrest him.”

  She raised her chin. “Sarcasm will get you nowhere. You should be grateful that at least two of your citizens care enough about law and order they’re willing to do something to help.”

  Dan laid down his pen. “What I’d like,” he said, folding his hands together on the desk in front of him, “is for those two citizens to allow me to do my job, instead of taking matters in their own hands.”

  She leaned forward. “Those two citizens helped solve two murders, if my memory is correct.”

  “You lucked out, that’s all.” Dan’s face softened. “Look, don’t think I’m not grateful for what you and Stephanie did in the past. Stupid, maybe, but you did help close some cases for us and I’m thankful for that. But you’ve gotta realize the chances you two are taking messing with the bad guys. You’ve been lucky so far. That might not be the case the next time. Just butt out in the future, okay?”

  She squirmed on her chair. “I hear what you’re saying.”

  He looked unimpressed. “I hope you take it to heart. So, why are you here, then?”

  She took a deep breath. “I’ve just come from Karen’s house. She said that Scott’s cell phone wasn’t among his personal belongings that you gave back to her. She was wondering what happened to it.”

  Dan shrugged. “She got back everything we had. There was no need to keep anything. If the phone wasn’t there, then he didn’t have it with him when he died.”

  “Karen said he never went anywhere without it.”

  “Then I reckon it fell out of his pocket on the way down and got lost in all the rubble down there.” He frowned. “It’s probably not working now, anyway.”

  “Maybe not, but there could be information on there that’s important to Karen.”

  His frown grew deeper. “Like what?”

  “Like who it was who texted him on the day he died. A message that apparently upset him.”

  “And you know this, how?”

  Again she squirmed. “Someone who was with him that day told us.”

  “So you’ve been asking around about this.”

  “Sort of. I guess.”

  He groaned—a sound that came from deep in his belly. “Do I have to lock you two up before you come to your senses? On second thought, that might be a good idea.”

  Deciding she’d reached the point of no return, Clara got up from her chair. “It might be a good idea if you searched for Scott’s cell phone. Just in case there’s something important on it.”

  “And it might be a good idea if you scooted out of here before I slap cuffs on you. I hope you haven’t been filling that poor widow’s mind with your crazy ideas. She’s been through enough. For God’s sake, let it lie.”

  Clara answered with a hasty wave and beat it out of the station.

  Remembering her promise to her cousin to stop by the bookstore after seeing Karen, she drove to the parking lot and left the car to walk up the hill. Even the sunlight couldn’t ward off the freezing wind from the ocean. Clara hunched her shoulders and dug her hands deep in the pockets of her coat.

  Many of the souvenir shops were closed for the winter, and would stay closed until Memorial Day weekend, the start of the tourist season. Then the striped awnings would come out, the windows would have fresh displays and people would crowd the sidewalks.

  Clara wondered what summer would be like in Finn’s Harbor once the new resort and golf club opened. It was bound to change the little town, but would it be for good or bad? There were so many mixed emotions among the residents. It was no wonder some of that anxiety and frustration spilled over to end up in brawls and fistfights.

  Was Scott’s death part of that? A fight that had spiraled out of control until a man lay dead on the ground? Or was it something deeper? Something connected to the bank robbery? So many questions, and no answers. If only Karen had been given Scott’s phone, they might have had at least one clue by now.

&
nbsp; Turning into the store, she was relieved to see only two customers browsing the aisles. She wanted a few minutes to talk to Stephanie before she left. Molly was at the counter, and waved to her as she walked in. Stephanie was nowhere to be seen, and Clara headed for the stockroom.

  Her cousin was standing in the middle of the room when Clara opened the door. She was talking to Angela, her sales rep—a thin woman with orange-framed glasses that almost matched the color of her hair.

  Clara returned Angela’s greeting, then took her time taking off her coat before hovering around in the background until the sales rep left.

  “I just came from the police station,” she said when Stephanie handed her some catalogs.

  Stephanie raised her eyebrows. “You didn’t get arrested, did you?”

  “Do I look like I got arrested?”

  “I don’t know.” Stephanie tilted her head to one side. “You don’t look too happy.”

  “I’m frustrated.” Clara quickly recited the events of the morning.

  “Seems like Dan was ready to lock you up,” Stephanie said when Clara was finished.

  Clara sighed. “What is it with you and being arrested? Do you want to see me behind bars or something?”

  Stephanie looked offended. “No, of course not. I just don’t want you to do anything that could get you into trouble. So, what do you think happened to Scott’s phone?”

  “I don’t know.” Clara sorted through the catalogs in her hand without really looking at them. “I suggested Dan look for it, but he wasn’t too thrilled with my request.”

  “You’re not saying we should dig through that stuff, are you?” Stephanie pushed her hair back from her face with both hands. “In the first place, we’d have to get onto the site, and it would have to be when everyone is gone, and if we’re caught, we’d be in a ton of trouble—”

  “I know.” Clara patted her shoulder. “Calm down, Steffie. I wouldn’t know where to begin looking anyway. We’ll just have to think of something else.”