“She sure did.” Clara studied the stack of books on the table closest to her. “You should have called me. I could have helped. I wasn’t doing anything.”
“Did you find an apartment?”
“Nope. The one I saw was too small and didn’t have a dishwasher. I’ve got to have some place to hide my dirty dishes.”
“You only saw one apartment?”
Clara made a face. “This is Finn’s Harbor. There’s not a lot of rentals to choose from.”
“Well, it’s not New York, I give you that.” Stephanie took a bunch of keys out of her purse and unlocked the cash register. “You’ll just have to be less fussy about where you live.”
“After looking at what’s available out there, my mother’s house is beginning to look a lot more comfortable. Even with her in it.”
Stephanie laughed. “You’ll be good for each other. Now come over here, and I’ll show you how to ring up purchases.”
Clara did her best to remember everything, jotting down notes as Stephanie explained her duties. The next half hour passed quickly, and by the time they were done, Clara felt reasonably confident she could handle anything, barring an unforeseen emergency.
“You can always call me if you’re in doubt,” Stephanie told her as she closed the file that held customers’ new-book reservations. “I can be down here in a few minutes if you need me.”
“I’ll be fine,” Clara assured her. She looked around, smiling as her glance fell on Madame Sophia. “I think this will be fun.”
“I hope so. I want you to enjoy working here; then, maybe you’ll stay.” Stephanie grinned. “Now, I need you to go to the stockroom. The copies of Wayne Lester’s new astrology book came in yesterday, and we need to get them out on the shelves. A lot of customers are waiting for that book.”
At the mention of the stockroom, Clara felt a stab of uneasiness. She nodded, carefully keeping her expression blank.
Her cousin, however, knew her too well. “What’s the matter?” Stephanie frowned. “Am I being too bossy?”
That made Clara smile. “You’ve always been bossy, but it’s okay. You’re the boss. You’re entitled.” Before Stephanie could probe anymore, she took off down the aisle and headed for the stockroom.
The disturbing sensation she’d felt the day before came back to haunt her as she opened the door. It didn’t mean anything, she assured herself. She had moments like that all the time. Most of the time they went away without her ever knowing what was behind them. This was just one of those times. Even so, she braced herself as she pushed open the door and flipped on the light.
She had taken only two steps into the room when she saw the huddled figure on the floor. Shock slammed into her chest, making it hard to breathe. She tried to shout for Stephanie, but no sound would come out of her mouth.
She took a wobbly step or two forward and uttered a whimper of horror. The shattered pieces of Edgar Allan Poe’s bust were scattered on the floor. In the center of them, Ana Jordan lay face-up, a puddle of dark blood spreading out from under her head.
Trouble Vision Page 22