“So when do we go to the Pioneer Inn?”
“How about tomorrow night? Since we close at six on Saturdays, we’ll be able to make it there before seven if you meet me at the bookstore. We’ll ask Molly to come along.”
“Great! I’ll tell George it’s a girls’ night out.”
“Good thing you have a husband who doesn’t mind being left alone with the kids.”
Stephanie sighed. “I know. He’s the best on earth. Then again, he has his golf days with his buddies, so he can’t complain. Not that he ever does. Like I said. He’s the best. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to sweeten the deal.”
She turned around and headed back toward the hotel.
“Where are you going?” After an anxious glance at her watch, Clara caught up with her. “You do know I’m supposed to be at the store in twenty minutes?”
“I do, and since I’m the boss, your job is pretty safe.”
“Good to know. Why are we going back to the hotel?”
“I want to buy George a round of golf here. It will make up for me taking off tomorrow night.” Once more they passed through the glass doors and walked across the plush carpet to the reception desk.
The same young man hurried over to them, an anxious frown on his face. “Is everything okay? Did you see Mr. Eastcott?”
“We did.” Stephanie smiled. “He was very charming.”
The clerk’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh, thank God.”
“I’d like to buy a round of golf for my husband.” Stephanie fluttered her eyelashes. “Do you have any specials?”
The clerk raised his eyebrows. “You’d have to ask the pro shop about that.”
He sounded as if the request was totally beneath him. It failed to intimidate Stephanie, though. She leaned across the counter and murmured, “Oh, I’m sure you could take care of it if you really wanted to, couldn’t you?”
The young man straightened, cleared his throat then reluctantly picked up the phone.
Smiling, Clara leaned her back against the counter, prepared to enjoy one more look at the luxurious surroundings. A young couple caught her eye. They were sitting close together on two of the velvet armchairs. The guy was looking at his companion as if he had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.
Feeling a pang of envy, Clara turned her gaze to the doors just in time to see Paul Eastcott pause in front of them. Instead of going outside, however, he beckoned to a young woman in a gold jacket who was crossing the foyer.
She looked nervous as she approached Paul, and apparently for good cause. It was obvious the manager was upset about something. He waved his arm at her and raised his voice so every word was audible across the busy room. “I’ve told you before about talking on the job. I won’t tolerate such behavior. Get out now and don’t come back.”
The woman began explaining something too quietly to be heard, but Paul cut her off. “I don’t want to hear any excuses. You’re fired. Now get out. And don’t expect any references.”
By now just about everyone’s head was turned toward the unfortunate woman. She took one look around her and promptly burst into tears.
Furious that the man had humiliated his employee in front of everyone, Clara had to fight the urge to run over and comfort the poor woman. Stephanie had turned around at the sound of the argument and was scowling at Paul as if she’d like to hit him. “What a jerk,” she muttered. “Someone should teach him how to treat his staff.”
“I have your tee time,” the clerk said behind them. He thrust the slip of paper at Stephanie, who swung back to face him with a smile.
“Thank you so much. You’ve been so nice. I’ll be sure to tell Mr. Eastcott how helpful you’ve been.”
The young man sent a hasty glance at the doors, through which Paul had now vanished. “Please don’t,” he said, sounding worried. “Just leave. Please?”
Stephanie raised her eyebrows, shrugged then slipped the paper into her purse. Turning, she murmured to Clara, “Some people can be so disagreeable.”
Following her cousin through the doors, Clara wondered if she’d meant the clerk or Paul Eastcott. One thing she did know: In her opinion, Paul Eastcott seemed a far more likely killer than the affable Wes Carlton. He had a temper—and a complete disregard for people’s feelings.
Or did she just want it to be Paul, rather than Wes? It would certainly let her off the hook as far as exposing a killer to Dan.
Letting out a sigh, she reminded herself how dumb it would be to let her worries over Rick’s feelings cloud her judgment. A woman’s life had been cut short, and whoever did it deserved to pay the price. Even if it turned out to be Rick’s best buddy.
“I’m glad I don’t work for Paul Eastcott,” Stephanie said, as they hurried over to the parking lot. “He sounds like a lousy boss.”
“Well, that’s the nice thing about owning your own business.” Reaching the car, Clara paused to get her breath. “You don’t have to answer to anyone.”
“Except the tax man.” Stephanie opened her door. “And George. I can handle him, though. The tax man, I’m not so sure.”
Grinning, Clara opened the door and slid onto her seat.
Tatters grunted as she closed the door. About time.
Clara reached out a hand behind her to pat his head. “Sorry, boy.”
“I wish I could have seen the rodeo,” Stephanie said, as Clara drove out of the parking lot and onto the coast road. “After listening to Paul Eastcott talk about it, it all sounds so exciting. I never realized just how much goes into one of those shows.”
“You could get your chance if we don’t find out something useful soon. We might have to go back there to talk to some more of the people who knew Lisa.”
“Count me in! Now, what are you going to do about the review you’re supposed to write?”
“I thought we were going to write it together.”
Stephanie pulled a face. “You’re so much better at that stuff than I am.”
“Flattery is not going to get you out of it.” Clara turned off the coast road and headed into town. “What happened to ‘I’ve always fancied myself as a writer’?”
“That was before I got a load of Big Shot Paul Eastcott.” Stephanie shuddered. “I can just imagine how he’d react if he didn’t like the review.”
“Well, he doesn’t scare me. We’re just repeating what he told us, anyway.”
Stephanie was silent for a moment. “Are you going to put in all that stuff about his not being there when Lisa was killed?”
“I’m not even going to mention the murder.” Clara sighed, realizing she’d just committed herself to writing the piece alone.
“Yeah, good thinking. If Dan saw it he’d know we were butting our noses in again, as he so graciously puts it.”
“He’s probably going to know anyway. If he and Tim are still investigating, we’re bound to run into one another sooner or later.”
“Well, so far he hasn’t thrown us in jail.”
“There’s always a first time.”
Stephanie glanced at her watch. “Crap. Is that the time? I’d better leave straight from the parking lot. I’ll call you later to see how things are going.”
Clara nodded, her mind already creating the opening lines of her review. If they didn’t get too busy that afternoon she could work on it, and might even get it up online when she got home.
The moment she parked the car, Stephanie scrambled out. “See you later,” she called out, and tore across the parking lot to where she’d parked her SUV. The last Clara saw of her cousin, she was roaring out onto the road and down the hill.
Molly was behind the counter serving a customer when Clara walked into the bookstore. She nudged her head at the aisles and mouthed two words. Reading Nook.
Immediately on guard, Clara headed down the aisle. She wasn’t too surprised
to see Dan Petersen seated on an armchair in the Nook, a mug of coffee in one hand and a half-eaten donut in the other.
He looked up as she approached, and gave her a hard stare from under his bushy brows. Dan had been Finn’s Harbor’s police chief for a good many years before Clara returned home from New York. Despite his gruff manner, the townsfolk seemed to like him. People spoke well of him, praising him for his obvious dedication to the safety and well-being of the general public.
He was there to serve, he’d said once, in a brief speech at one of the town meetings, and it was obvious to everyone that’s what he tried to do. They knew the concerns of the residents of Finn’s Harbor would always be his top priority. He’d proven that on several occasions, earning in turn the public’s respect.
His relationship with the cousins had been rocky ever since they had solved a murder that had taken place in the Raven’s Nest. Clara suspected his irritation at their “interference” in his investigation was due more to concern for their safety than any hindrance they might have been. After all, the cousins had helped to solve more than one murder, thanks mostly to Clara’s detested gift of the Quinn Sense.
Although he’d never said as much, Clara knew Dan was baffled by the cousins’ success in tracking down a criminal, when his own efforts and that of his department had been less than fruitful. Since she wasn’t able to enlighten him, she hoped he’d put it down to dumb luck.
Right now, he wasn’t looking too happy. “Tim tells me you’ve been pestering the rodeo folk about the murder.”
Clara walked over to the sink and reached in the overhead cabinet for a mug. Filling it with coffee, she murmured, “Has someone been complaining?”
“Not as far as I know. That’s not the point.”
She carried the mug over to a chair opposite him and sat down. “I’m writing an online review of the rodeo, and needed some facts about it.” It was the truth, after all, she thought, and he could hardly give her a hard time for that.
Dan’s blue eyes were slits in his round face. “Facts about the rodeo, or the murder?”
“I’m not writing a review of the murder.”
She met his keen gaze without flinching, and finally he leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “Lady, you and your cousin will be the death of me.”
She smiled. “I certainly hope not.”
He took a swallow of his coffee and balanced the mug on his belly. “I’m only going to say this once. Stay out of trouble and leave the police work to me and my crew. Okay? You’ve been lucky in the past. Sooner or later that luck is going to run out. I don’t want to be the one who has to tell your folks you’re not coming home.”
Clara felt a sting of apprehension. “I promise you, Dan, I’ll do my best to stay out of trouble.”
“Good.” He finished his donut in one bite and stood up. “That goes for your scatterbrained cousin as well.”
Stephanie would not appreciate that, Clara thought, with a flash of amusement. “I’ll be sure to pass that along.”
He handed her his mug, turned to leave then looked back at her. “I don’t suppose you picked up anything useful while you were asking questions out there?”
She tried to look innocent. “Lots of useful stuff. Like how fast the horses go when they’re charging around the barrels in a figure eight, how calf ropers tie their pigging strings and—”
“Okay, okay.” Dan held up his hand. “Just try and remember that murder is a serious business. You’ve had some close calls in the past. Don’t make me have to put you two in custody to keep you safe.”
He was gone before she could answer. Clara let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Tim must have seen her and Stephanie that morning at the rodeo, or maybe at the resort. She’d have to be more careful about how and where she talked to people.
A rush of tourists kept her and Molly busy throughout the afternoon, giving her no opportunity to work on her review. It was almost time for Molly to leave before the last customer wandered out of the bookstore with a pile of books under her arm.
“I unpacked the boxes Stephanie wanted opened,” Molly said, arriving at the counter in her usual breathless manner. “There’s a bit more room in the stockroom now.”
Clara took the pile of books from her and put them on the counter. “I’ll get these out on the shelves later.” She hesitated, then added, “Did you hear any noises while you were in there?”
Molly gazed blankly at her. “Noises?”
Feeling a bit paranoid, Clara flapped a hand at her. “Oh, it’s okay. Forget it. I thought I heard something moving about in there, but it’s probably my imagination.”
Now Molly looked worried. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“It’s okay. It was probably the wind or something.” Clara straightened the pile of books. “So what do you think of this new series?”
“I can’t believe how popular it is.” Molly held up one of the books. A green and gold dragon with flames gushing from his mouth decorated the cover, while a young man dressed in a red and black tunic brandished a sword over its head. “It looks totally gory to me. All that blood and guts everywhere. Ugh!”
“People don’t read those books for the battles. They read them for the romance.” Clara pointed to the cover. “Look at the blonde hovering behind his shoulder.”
“Oh.” Molly looked. “Well, that makes it better, I guess, though I can’t see anything romantic about plunging a sword in an animal’s gut. Give me a ghost story any time. Ghosts can’t get physical.”
Clara grinned. “You must not be reading the latest ghost romances.”
“What?” Molly looked horrified. “Don’t tell me.”
“Okay, I won’t.” Clara looked up at the new clock on the wall. She’d bought it for Stephanie’s birthday, which coincided with the anniversary of the store’s opening. The clock had a witch’s face, complete with black hat. As the second hand ticked around, the witch’s eyes blinked in time, and when the hand reached twelve, the eyes glowed red for five seconds.
There had been many times when Clara had waited in vain for payment while the fascinated customer watched the second hand tick out the minute until the witch’s eyes turned red. That was when Clara wished she’d never bought the thing.
“I need to run over to Rick’s store,” she said. “Can you hold the fort for ten minutes?”
“Sure.” Molly pointed to the untidy shelves. “I’ll straighten up this mess before you get back.”
Clara smiled. “You’re an angel. By the way, I haven’t had time to ask you yet. Steffie and I are having dinner at the Pioneer Inn tomorrow night. Would you like to come along?”
Molly gasped. “Seriously? I’d love to go! Brad’s in Portland job hunting and won’t be back until Sunday. I was just getting mopey thinking about spending the weekend alone. This is great! You can tell me how the murder investigation is going.”
“Shhh!” Clara looked around, thankful to be reassured that no one was in the store. “Don’t mention to anyone that we’re looking into it. Dan will go ballistic if he finds out.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” Molly drew her fingers across her closed lips. “Not a word. I swear.”
“Okay. I won’t be long.” Wasting no more time, Clara flew across the road to the hardware store.
Tyler gave her a lopsided grin when she walked through the door. He always seemed anxious when he saw her, probably because she invariably did or said something weird when she was around Rick.
She greeted him with a smile, hoping to put him at ease. “Is Rick around?”
Tyler jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “In the office. He’s got company, though.”
“Oh.” She hesitated, wondering if she should come back later.
“It’s that rodeo guy who’s supposed to have murdered that woman.”
That settled it. Without wasting a
nother moment, Clara headed for the office.
Tapping on the door, she jumped when it opened immediately. She saw Wes first, then Rick standing behind him. “Sorry,” she said, “am I disturbing something?”
“Nope. Wes was just leaving.” Rick opened the door wider. “Come on in.”
Nodding at Wes, Clara stepped into the office. “I’m glad I caught you. I wanted to ask you a question.”
Wes glanced at Rick, his face a mask of doubt.
“It’s okay,” Rick said. “She’s trying to help you.” He placed his arm around Clara’s shoulders and gave her a hug. “Wes got cut from the competition. He was told he couldn’t compete while he was being investigated by the police. So he needs all the help he can get. Did you find out anything?”
“Not much.” Wes still looked uneasy, so she turned her attention to him. “I was out at the rodeo this morning, asking a few questions. I talked to Anita, Melosa and Paul Eastcott.”
Wes looked worried. “You talked to Eastcott? What did he say?”
“Not a lot.” She concentrated on Wes’s face. “Was Lisa having an affair with Paul Eastcott?”
She heard Rick’s swift intake of breath, but she was busy watching Wes. Shock, anger and sorrow followed in quick succession as the emotions swept across his face. Finally he lifted his shoulders in what was obviously a calculated shrug. “I have no idea. Lisa didn’t confide in me.”
“But you must have heard people talking.”
His eyes were hard when he looked at her. “I don’t listen to gossip.”
She tried another tack. “Paul said he wasn’t at the rodeo when the murder happened, so I’m assuming no one saw him that night.”
“I don’t remember seeing him.” Wes shook his head. “I don’t remember too much about that night. All I can think about is Anita telling me that Lisa had been murdered.”
“When did she tell you that?”
Wes frowned. “I guess it was right after they found Lisa’s body. I remember hearing the sirens as I was running over to the stage.”
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