“Well, you told Molly that your girlfriend took you to the hospital around five thirty.”
A group of guys strolled past them, one of them calling out to Eddie, “That your fan club, Hatchett?”
The rest of the guys laughed, but Eddie wasn’t laughing. In fact, he looked as if he might explode any moment.
He took a step toward Clara, then halted as Tatters bared his teeth in a soft, warning growl.
Clara tugged lightly on the leash. “I was just wondering why your girlfriend told Molly that she took you to the hospital two hours later than you say she did.”
“Oh yeah?” Eddie folded his arms, and glared at Tatters. “What’s it to you?”
“Scott Delwyn was a friend of ours. We’re trying to find out the truth about the night he died. When someone lies about what happened that night, it looks kind of suspicious, don’t you think? I wonder what the police chief would think about that.”
Eddie’s tough expression faded to a worried frown. “There’s no need to bring the cops into this. So I lied. When I heard that Delwyn had fallen off the scaffolding, I got worried. Everyone in this place knows I threatened him when he fired me. I was afraid I’d be blamed for his death. So when Molly started asking questions about that night, I decided it was safer to say I wasn’t around. I was figuring on them at the hospital not mentioning what time I got there if anyone checked.”
Clara gave him a hard stare. “Are you saying you think someone killed Scott Delwyn? That his death wasn’t an accident?”
The defiant look returned to Eddie’s face. “All I’m saying is that Scott may have been an s.o.b., but he was careful. He’d never take chances up there. I just can’t see him falling off, that’s all. One thing I do know, I didn’t kill him. Now quit bugging me about it and get out of my way.”
Again Tatters uttered a low growl.
“It’s all right, boy.” Clara tightened her hold on the leash. “Just one more question.” Ignoring Eddie’s scowl, she continued, “Do you have any idea who might have wanted to hurt Scott?”
“Nope, I don’t. What’s more, I don’t care. I’m sorry he’s dead, but I didn’t like the bastard, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one.” Eddie hunched his shoulders and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Now, I’m leaving. You’d better keep a tight hold on that dog of yours, or something bad might happen to him, too.”
Bring it on, soldier.
Clara felt Tatters straining on the leash and tugged it. “Thank you, Eddie. Good-night.”
Eddie looked from her to Stephanie, grunted and marched off toward the parking lot.
Tatters stared after him, the hair on the back of his neck forming a stiff ridge.
“Whew,” Stephanie said, fanning her face with her glove. “I’m sure glad that’s over.”
“Yeah, except we’re no closer to finding out who killed Scott.” Clara watched Eddie climb into his truck. “Interesting though that he thought someone had pushed Scott off that scaffolding. Guess we’re not the only ones who think it’s murder.”
“Unless Karen was right and Scott killed himself.”
“Not according to the Quinn Sense.”
Stephanie started walking toward the parking lot. “I don’t know how we’re going to prove anything when no one knows anything.”
Tugging on Tatters’ leash, Clara followed her. “Well someone knows something. Whoever killed him knows what happened. Sooner or later, that person’s going to slip up. I just hope we’re around when he does.”
“Well, do me a favor,” Stephanie said when Clara joined her inside the car. “Next time we go talk to someone, let’s make it either earlier or later. I’m sure George is getting tired of feeding the kids dinner.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just the way things have worked out.” Clara slid the car into gear and pulled out of the parking lot. “Does he know where you are and what you’re doing?”
“He thinks I’m planning a special event at the store.” She sighed. “Sooner or later, I’ll have to think of something.”
“When is Edgar Allen Poe’s birthday? We could celebrate that.”
“Can’t. It’s already gone. It was January nineteenth.” She brightened. “We could celebrate it next year, though. That’s a great idea!”
“It doesn’t help us much now, though.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll think of something. Besides, once this is over, I’ll tell George the truth. Like I always do.”
“That’s if he doesn’t find out first. Like he always does.”
“Okay, okay. Thank heavens he’s such a sweetheart. No one else would put up with me.”
Clara glanced at her. “You’re a great wife and mother, Steffie. I’m the one who’s always dragging you away from your family.”
“You don’t have to drag me. I come willingly. We’re in this together, remember? Just like the old days.”
“Yeah, and look how many times the old days got us into deep doo-doo.”
“That’s what makes life interesting.” Stephanie patted her cousin’s arm. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Though I must say, this case is more than frustrating. So many dead ends. We don’t have any real suspects. Just a lot of possibilities.”
“I know. Unless we get really lucky, or the Sense lets me see faces, we might have to give up on this one.”
“Never!” Stephanie struck a pose. “The fighting Quinns never give up. Didn’t your dad ever say that to you? Mine says it all the time.”
Clara laughed. “Mine said it all the time, too.” Her smile faded. “He had to give up in the end, though.”
“I’m sorry. I know how much you miss him. I shouldn’t have said all that.”
“It’s okay. It’s good to talk about him now and then. Jessie rarely mentions him anymore. I think she’s moving on.”
“Isn’t that what he would have wanted?”
“I guess so.” Clara glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Well, you should be home in time for dinner tonight.” She pulled up at the curb. “See you tomorrow.” She hesitated, wondering if she should say something about meeting Rick later, then decided to wait until tomorrow to tell Stephanie. That’s if there was anything to tell. After all, they were just going for a walk.
Stephanie turned around to pat Tatters. “You were a good boy,” she told him. “You scared that nasty man. Good dog!”
Tatters whined and wagged his tail.
She climbed out of the car, saying, “That dog does come in handy at times. See you!”
Clara waited for Tatters’ comment, but the dog was silent. Feeling slightly let down, she took off down the street.
Jessie was walking out the front door as Clara walked up the path. “I was hoping you’d get home before I left,” she said, as Tatters ran up to her. Leaning down to pet the dog, she added, “I have an appointment. I’ve left supper in the fridge for you.”
“Thanks, Mom, but you know I’m quite capable of fixing my own dinner. I did it all the time in New York.”
Jessie looked up at her. “Well, you’re not in New York now, and I have more time than you. Besides, I like to cook, and it’s no fun cooking for yourself.”
“I have to agree with that.” Clara stepped into the hallway. “Thanks again. Have a good time.”
“I intend to.” Jessie gave Tatters a final pat and hurried down the path.
Watching her mother trotting along in her fashionable pantsuit and high heels, Clara wondered if the “appointment” was her mother’s way of saying she had a date.
Jessie was always vague when she talked about her evenings out, and Clara preferred not to visualize her mother with another man. Especially if that man was Tony Manetas, the owner of the Pizza Parlor. He’d made no secret of the fact that he was interested in Jessie. Then again, he didn’t bother to hide his affection for most of his female customers, which made Clara wonder what her mother saw in him.
The next two hours passed slowly. After heating up the meat loaf and eating some of i
t, feeding Tatters and watching the news, Clara wandered into her bedroom and turned on her computer. According to the news anchor, there’d been no further developments in the bank robbery case. Nor was there anything online.
Clara answered a couple of e-mails and then turned off the computer. The moment she stood, Tatters was at the door, wagging his tail. It was time to get ready for their walk.
She took longer than usual to fix her hair, put on comfortable shoes and pull on her coat. All the while, Tatters paced back and forth between the bedroom and the front door. She kept waiting for his thoughts to enter her mind, and when he remained silent, she wondered if perhaps the line of communication between them had for some reason been broken. Moments later, she was outside on the dark street, with Tatters straining on the leash as usual.
“We’re waiting for someone,” she told him just as Rick’s truck turned the corner and coasted toward them.
He pulled up at the curb with a slight squeak from the brakes, and parked under the streetlamp.
Tatters stood watching the truck, his entire body quivering with excitement. The moment Rick appeared from behind the vehicle, the dog uttered a sharp bark and leapt forward, dragging Clara with him.
Rearing up on his hind legs, Tatters plunked two massive paws on Rick’s stomach.
Rick’s breath came out in a strangled, “Oof!”
“Sorry,” Clara muttered, dragging on the leash. “Sometimes he gets away from me.”
“It’s okay.” Grinning, Rick massaged the dog’s shaggy neck, then gently pushed him back on all fours. “Ready for a walk, mutt?”
Tatters barked, bounding around like a spring lamb.
“Guess that’s a yes.” Rick took the leash from Clara, adding, “Let me give you a break.”
Happy to give up the boisterous animal, Clara fell into step beside him. “He likes to go to the beach. Are you up for it?”
“Sure.” Rick tucked his free hand in his jacket pocket. “There’s nothing like a brisk walk on the beach in the middle of winter.”
Clara laughed. “It doesn’t seem to bother Tatters.”
“Why should it? He’s got a thick fur coat to protect him.”
“Maybe I should invest in a fur coat.”
“I thought fur coats were considered unethical in this environmental age.”
“Fake fur, then.”
“I can think of better ways to keep warm.”
She sent him a sideway glance, unsure how to take that. He was looking straight ahead, and she couldn’t tell from his expression if he was teasing or not. She decided to ignore it, and launched into a conversation about the new hotel project.
After discussing the pros and cons for several minutes, they both agreed that only time would tell if the new resort would be good for the town.
“I must admit,” Rick said, as they crossed the street to the sea wall, “it will be nice to have a golf course close by.”
“Do you play?” Clara paused at the wall, her gaze on the breakers cresting offshore. The full moon laid a silver path across the ocean, and in the distance, tiny dots of lights gleamed in the darkness from across the bay.
“Not as much as I used to.” Tatters whined and Rick looked down at him. “I guess you want to run on the sand.” He looked back at Clara. “How about it?”
Remembering her vision, Clara shivered. The last thing she needed was to have another one with Rick at her side.
Seeing her hesitation, Rick was quick to respond. “I know the beach isn’t exactly hospitable in this weather. Why don’t we let Tatters off the leash down there and we watch him from the wall?”
“Sounds like a good idea. As long as we don’t lose him.”
“He won’t go far.” Rick started for the steps that led down to the sand. “How about it, Tatters? You’ll come back when I whistle, right?”
The dog barked, and leapt ahead to the top of the steps.
Leaning down, Rick unclipped the leash. “Okay, mutt. Enjoy your freedom for a little while.”
Tatters wasted no time tearing down the steps. Once his paws hit the sand, he was off, leaping and bounding toward the ocean.
Clara sat on the wall, watching the big dog trot along the water’s edge. “He’s not going in the sea,” she said as Rick sat beside her. “He must know the water’s cold.”
“He’s not stupid, that dog.” Rick tucked the leash in his pocket. “In fact, there were times when I could swear he knew every word I spoke.”
Clara smiled. “I know what you mean.”
Rick was silent for a long moment, while Clara wondered what he was thinking. When he finally spoke, he took her completely off-guard. “Mind if I ask you a question?”
The fact that he’d asked first suggested it was going to be an awkward question. Bracing herself, she said warily, “Sure. What is it?”
He hunched his shoulders as if he were cold. “I was just wondering if you and Tim Rossi . . . I mean, I don’t want to butt into your personal life, but when I saw you two the other day, I started wondering . . . you know.”
Her rush of relief made her sound breathless when she answered. “There’s nothing going on between Tim and me. We’re just friends, that’s all. I was upset over something Dan said to me and Tim was trying to make me feel better. He’s a nice guy, but I’m not interested in him in that way.”
She looked up to find him gazing at her, with a look in his eyes that made her pulse speed up.
“Good,” he said softly. “Because I have to tell you, I got worried.”
She was having trouble breathing. “You did?”
“Yes, ma’am. I did.”
He leaned toward her, and then she was in his arms, with his mouth firmly on hers.
After a really satisfying moment or two, he let her go. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he said, keeping one arm around her shoulders.
She smiled up at him. “Then why didn’t you?”
He didn’t answer at once, and she felt a trickle of concern.
After a moment or two, he said quietly, “From some of the things you’ve said, I know that you had some kind of bad experience when you were in New York. I got the impression that’s why you came back to Finn’s Harbor to live. Whatever happened back there must have hit hard, because you’ve had a fence built around you covered with warning signs to keep out. Much as I wanted to get closer to you, I figured it would be better if I waited until you were ready to take down those signs. I didn’t want to scare you off before I’d even had a chance to show you what a terrific catch I am.”
The tension broken, she burst out laughing. “Modest, too, I see.”
Looking into his eyes, her heart skipped at what she saw there. Sobering, she looked away, pretending to search for Tatters. He was just a few yards off, sniffing at something in the sand.
She wanted to tell Rick about Matt and her broken heart, but couldn’t find the words to begin. When she’d stayed silent for too long, she forced out words. “I was going to marry him.”
Rick took a while to answer. “You don’t have to tell me. What happened back then has nothing to do with us now.”
“I want to tell you. It’s just . . .”
“I know.”
She tried again. “I didn’t tell anyone I was getting married. Not even my mother. I guess deep down I must have sensed something could go wrong.” Where had the Quinn Sense been then? Why hadn’t she listened to her instincts?
She took a deep breath. “I found out the night before the wedding that he’d left town with someone else. He didn’t even have the guts to tell me himself.”
She hadn’t noticed the tears in her eyes until one trickled down her cheek.
“Not all men are jerks.” Rick turned her to face him. “I know it’s hard to trust again. I thought I’d found the love of my life, too. I guess we married too young. She missed the single life—the parties, the dates, all the excitement. I wanted kids, she didn’t. She kept saying she was too young to mess up her fi
gure. One day, she just left, saying she was going back to her old life. I guess we just wanted different things.”
Clara dashed at her cheek with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. But life goes on and we have to move on with it.” He lifted her chin with the tips of his fingers. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather move on with than you.”
His kiss lasted longer this time. Clara closed her eyes and gave herself up to the moment. Until a voice spoke in her head.
It’s about time.
She pulled away from Rick, and saw Tatters sitting just a few feet away, his tongue hanging out of his mouth and his ears twitching.
“I think he approves,” Rick said, following her gaze.
“You might be right.” She stood up. “I guess it’s time I took him home.”
“Too bad.” Rick got slowly to his feet. “Things were just getting interesting.”
Clara smiled. She felt light-headed, as if she’d drunk a little too much wine. The ache that had lurked in her heart for so long was no longer there. Rick was right. It was time to move on and she was more than ready.
She watched him bend down to clip the leash to Tatters’ collar. He was a good man. An honest man. Learning to trust again was hard, but with Rick she felt reasonably sure she could get there. Right now, that was enough for her.
On her way to work the next morning, Clara was almost at the parking lot on the hill when she saw the car. It was cruising toward her—a gleaming red beast on dazzling silver wheels. Sleek and low to the ground, it shouted speed and excitement, with more than a hint of danger. The sort of car a hunk would drive.
Curious to see the man behind the wheel, she eased her foot on the brake. As the car drew level with her, she threw a glance sideways. What she saw disappointed her. The driver was kind of scruffy looking, wearing a fur-lined jacket and a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.
She could see a shadowy figure sitting in the backseat, and as the car flashed past her, she caught a glimpse of his face. He looked a lot like Scott Delwyn.
She dismissed that immediately, figuring that the dead man was on her mind so much she was imagining things.
The driver, however, had also looked vaguely familiar, and as Clara pulled into the parking lot, her mind worked furiously to remember where she’d seen the man before. Had he been one of the protestors? She tried to remember what Josh’s followers looked like, but no one stood out.
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