Still, there was always the hope that it would help her find some of the answers she needed, and as long as the Sense was working for her and not against her, she welcomed its contribution. Right now, it was noticeably absent, and she decided that a brisk walk with Tatters might help clear her mind.
Tatters showed his excitement by dragging her down the driveway, until she dug in her heels and ordered him to “Stay!”
He paused, looking back at her with an expression that clearly said, Are you kidding me?
“I’m in charge of this walk,” Clara told him as she started down the street, holding him back on a short leash. “So, either you do exactly what I tell you, or we go straight back home and you can spend the rest of the day in the utility room.”
Tatters glanced back at her over his shoulder and trotted obediently a few paces in front of her.
She was so busy watching the dog she failed to notice the red Ferrari pulling up at the curb ahead of her. It wasn’t until the stocky figure of the mayor climbed out and patted Tatters on the head that she realized he had intentionally stopped to speak to her.
Dazzled by the magnificence of the sports car, she hauled the dog closer.
“Good morning.” Carson Dexter bowed his head in an old-fashioned greeting. “Lovely morning for a walk.”
Clara glanced up at the clouded sky. “Er…yes, it is.”
Carson smiled. “I take it you know who I am?”
Clara nodded.
“In that case, I’m sure you’ll take it seriously when I advise you to quit interfering in police business. Poking around in matters that don’t concern you is not only unwarranted, it could also be considered an obstruction of justice. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to find yourself facing a judge in court. Have a nice day.”
Clara watched him climb back into the Ferrari and roar down the street, her mind still entranced by the car. As it turned the corner and disappeared, however, the mayor’s words hit her like a brick.
Had he really just threatened to take her to court for simply asking questions? How had he known? Had someone complained to him about her? Could it have possibly been Frank Tomeski’s murderer, afraid she was getting too close?
Shaken, she continued on her walk, her resolve growing with every step. No one, not even the mayor of Finn’s Harbor, was going to stop her investigation. Somehow, she would have to find out who told him she’d been asking questions.
One thing was for certain. She wouldn’t vote for Carson Dexter for governor, even if he were running against a gorilla.
She was still fuming when she left the house for the bookstore, after settling Tatters down in her room with the radio on and a bone to chew.
Molly and Stephanie were both serving customers when Clara arrived at the Raven’s Nest. She’d meant to get there early so she would have enough time to pay a visit to the hardware store. Given the mood she was in, however, it was just as well she’d left too late to talk to Rick.
She stashed her purse behind the counter and quickly checked the morning’s receipts. It looked as if the Raven’s Nest had been busy. She was about to join her cousin in the aisles when she heard the ping of the doorbell. Looking up, her stomach took a nosedive when she saw the chief of police.
Dan Petersen was a jovial-looking man, especially when dressed as casually as he was now, though his ice blue eyes could freeze someone into silence with one glance. He ran a tight police force and was respected by the vast majority of the community. There wasn’t much that got past Dan, and Clara was well aware of his perceptive abilities as he halted in front of her, his mouth tilted in a half smile.
“How’s the bookselling business?”
“Pretty good.” Clara waved a hand at the aisles. “The fantasy books are doing real well. It’s a popular genre right now.”
“Ah.” Dan nodded, his hands behind his back. “Vampires and all that stuff.”
“Some of it, yes.” Clara tilted her head to one side. “Did you want to look at some?”
“Vampires?” Dan gave a mock shudder. “No, thanks.” He looked around. “I did want a word or two with you and your cousin. Is she around?”
Clara glanced nervously down an aisle. “She’s serving a customer at the moment.” She frowned. “Is something wrong?”
Dan pursed his lips. “Depends on how you look at things. I heard you two have been bugging people about the bowling alley murder.”
“Bugging?” Clara shook her head. “I wouldn’t say we were bugging people. Just asking a few questions, that’s all.”
Dan rocked back on his heels. “You know that’s my job, don’t you?”
Clara uttered a shaky laugh. “We’re not trying to be cops. We were just curious.”
“Curious? Hmm.” Dan studied her, making her more uncomfortable as the seconds ticked by. Finally, he added, “I know you were a great help in solving Ana Jordan’s murder last year, but I hope you’re not getting the idea you can do better than the police. You were lucky you weren’t badly hurt, you know.”
Clara gave him a weak smile.
“The mayor thinks you’re taking all this a little too seriously. We’re doing our best to solve this case, and we’re making headway. It might be a good idea to leave the investigating to us.”
Clare stared at him. “You found the murderer?”
“Not yet.” Dan turned toward the door. “But we will.” He paused and looked back at her. “Watch your step, both of you. Murder is a dangerous business.” With that, he opened the door and disappeared into the street.
Clara let out her breath just as Stephanie emerged from the aisle, followed by an elderly woman who muttered something under her breath.
Stephanie rolled her eyes at Clara and hurried over to the counter. “Yes, Mrs. Riley, I know books are expensive, but they give us so much pleasure, they’re worth every penny.”
“I don’t know how I can afford to read anymore,” the woman grumbled, handing over a credit card. “Everything’s going up, except my pension.”
Stephanie rang up the purchase and gave the card back to the woman. “Thank you, Mrs. Riley. It was good to see you again. I hope you enjoy the books.”
Mrs. Riley took the bag Stephanie handed her and headed for the door, nodding at Clara as she passed. “They help keep my mind off things,” she said as Clara opened the door for her. “I don’t watch the news anymore. Too many terrible things going on. It scares me to death.” She nodded at the hardware store. “I don’t know how you young women can work here with a murderer just across the street.”
Clara was about to open her mouth and tell the old bat how wrong she was when she caught sight of Stephanie frantically shaking her head. She closed her mouth again and gave the woman a tight smile. Waiting until the door closed behind Mrs. Riley, she let out her breath in an explosive, “Ignorant old woman!”
Stephanie rushed over to her. “I’m glad you didn’t say anything to her. You know how she gossips all over town. I didn’t want her telling everyone we’re trying to solve the case and tip off the killer.”
“It’s too late,” Clara said, running her fingers through her bangs. “According to Dan and our esteemed mayor, news of our investigation is all over town.”
Stephanie’s jaw dropped. “How do you know?”
“Carson Dexter came to my house this morning and stopped me on the street. He warned me we could be charged with obstruction of justice and interfering in police business.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Stephanie looked over her shoulder as if worried who might overhear. “What did Dan say?”
“He strongly suggested we leave the investigating to him.”
“Crap. We’d better hold off on asking questions, then.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Clara wandered over to the counter. “We don’t have anyone else to ask.”
“We need to sit down and talk about what we know so far. Maybe something we haven’t thought about will pop up.”
“I did have a vision last
night, about the SUV Buzz mentioned.”
Stephanie joined her behind the counter. “Really? What did you see?
“Not much. I don’t know if there’s a connection there or not.”
“We definitely need to talk. How about coming over my house for dinner tonight?”
Clara shook her head. “Can’t. I’ve left Tatters with my mother for the last two nights. I have to be there this evening.”
“All right, I’ll call you. We can talk on the phone.” Stephanie glanced at the clock. “It’s time for me to leave. We’ll talk tonight.” She grabbed up her purse and patted Clara’s arm. “Don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of all this somehow.”
Clara watched her go, wishing she could believe that. Right now it all seemed so hopeless. Maybe she’d been naïve, thinking that just because she’d solved one murder she could do so again. Where are you, Quinn Sense? Give me just one tiny clue. Anything.
No voices answered her, and she walked back to the aisles. Maybe Stephanie was right. Maybe something they’d missed would occur to them when they talked. Feeling a little less dejected, she approached a customer and offered her help.
She arrived home that evening to find her mother deep into a book and Tatters lying in front of the TV. The dog raised his head when she walked into the living room. Getting up to greet her, his tail narrowly missed the lamp sitting on the end table.
Clara fondled his ears and shook her head at her mother. “How can you read with the TV blaring like that?”
Jessie shrugged and put the book down. “I shut it out.”
“Why don’t you just turn it off?”
“Tatters likes to watch.” Seeing Clara grin, she picked up the book again. “Besides, you know I like sound in the house when I’m alone.” She turned a page and adjusted her reading glasses. “There’s lasagna in the oven. You just have to warm it up.”
Thanking her, Clara crossed to the kitchen and turned on the stove. The newspaper lay on the table and she picked it up. She had to turn three pages before she found what she was looking for—a short paragraph on the local page.
There are no new developments in the bowling alley murder case. Police are still investigating, and Rick Sanders, owner of Parson’s Hardware, is still considered a person of interest in the case. Mayor Carson Dexter continues to urge all residents of Finn’s Harbor to come forward with any information that may be helpful. You may contact the police or the mayor at City Hall.
Clara dropped the newspaper on the table and opened up a cupboard. Grabbing a plate off the shelf, she was about to carry it over to the stove when a voice spoke distinctly in her ear. City Hall. City Hall. City Hall.
Frowning, Clara stood quite still in the middle of the kitchen. What about City Hall?
The voice refused to answer. Frustrated, she walked back into the living room.
Her mother looked up as Clara headed for the hallway. “Are you all right? You look as if you’re ready to punch someone in the face.”
Clara made herself smile. “Just tired. I have some stuff to do on my computer. I’ll come back and eat in a little while.”
Jessie nodded. “Just don’t let the lasagna burn.”
“I won’t.” She walked down the hall, with Tatters padding behind her. He followed her into her room and jumped up on her bed, where he curled up with his nose in his tail. His gaze followed her as she walked over to her desk and sat down.
“We’ll go out later,” she promised him. “Right after I’ve eaten.” Nudging on her computer, she stared at the monitor, waiting for it to boot up. City Hall. What the heck was the Sense trying to tell her? To go see Dan? Maybe tell him everything she knew? But she didn’t know anything that would help. Except the name of Frank Tomeski’s girlfriend and the police might already have that information. Was that what the Sense was trying to tell her? That Stella Wilkins had killed her boyfriend in a fit of jealous rage?
Logging on to the Internet, she hoped she’d at least get to eat before her cousin called. A quick glance at her e-mails showed nothing interesting, and she leaned back in her chair. She needed to balance her checkbook but couldn’t seem to drum up enough enthusiasm to do it. Instead, she pulled up the website for the Chronicle. Sure enough, there it was: the same paragraph that she’d seen in the newspaper. This time, however, no voice echoed the words City Hall.
An idea struck her, and she scrolled up to the search engine and entered the name Frank Tomeski. After skimming through a couple of paragraphs that seemed to have nothing to do with the murdered man, a headline caught her eye: YOUNG GIRL FOUND DEAD IN PORTLAND APARTMENT. Curious, she read on. The article described the scene where a young woman, Amy Tomeski, was found dead from an overdose of prescription drugs. The police found a suicide note, and the medical examiner reported that the woman had been pregnant. The baby did not survive.
Clara’s first thought was how sad that a young mother had been so desperate she’d taken her own life and that of her unborn baby. Her next thought was even more disturbing. Could this woman possibly have been a relative of Frank Tomeski?
She skimmed the rest of the page but could find nothing more. She tried to sort out her thoughts, but her mind seemed to be blank, and she raised her chin and stared at the ceiling. “Darn you, Quinn Sense. Where the heck are you when I need you?”
She hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud until Tatters whined. She looked at him and he sat up, staring at her with anxious brown eyes. “It’s okay, boy,” she said softly.
He whined again in answer and jumped off the bed. She held out her hand, and he trotted over to her, where he nudged her hand with his cold nose.
“It’s okay,” she said again. “Let’s go eat.”
She got up and he followed close on her heels as she walked down the hallway to the living room. Her mother was still engrossed in her book and didn’t look up when Clara told her, “I’m going to eat. Do you want anything?”
Her mother simply waved a hand and went on reading.
After sharing some of the lasagna with Tatters, Clara stuffed the dishes in the dishwasher and had just finished when her cell phone rang. Stephanie’s voice greeted her, and aware of Jessie listening in the living room, Clara answered quietly, “I’ll call you back in a minute.”
Her mother looked up when she walked back into the living room. “I suppose that was that hardware man calling you.”
Clara bit back a sharp response. “Nope,” she said carefully, “it was Stephanie.”
“Oh.” Her mother gave her an odd look. “Well, I don’t know why you can’t just talk to her with me here.” She squinted at her. “You’re not in trouble, are you?”
Clara smiled. “Not as far as I know.”
“Good. You’d tell me if you were, right?”
“Of course.” Clara headed for the hallway.
“I’m going to bed,” Jessie announced. “Do you want me to turn off the TV?”
Clara nodded. “I’m taking Tatters for a walk in a little while, and then I’m going to bed, too.”
“Glad to hear it. You stay up way too late in my opinion.” Jessie switched off the TV and got up. “You’ll be old before your time if you don’t get your rest.”
“Yes, Mother.” Clara continued down the hallway.
“And don’t let that dog sleep on your bed again. It’s not good for either of you.”
“Yes, Mother. Good-night!” Thankfully she closed the bedroom door, and Tatters jumped gleefully on the bed and settled down.
Clara pulled out her chair and sat down in front of the computer. Opening her cell phone, she stabbed out her cousin’s number and waited for her to answer.
Stephanie’s voice was muted when she spoke. “George has gone to bed,” she said. “I think he’s coming down with a cold.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“So am I. He can be such a baby when he’s sick.” Clara heard the sound of ice clinking in a glass, then Stephanie added, “I just made him some iced tea. I can’t tal
k long.”
“It’s okay. I can’t, either. My mother is beginning to wonder what all the secrecy is about.”
“You didn’t tell her, did you?”
Clara rolled her eyes at the alarm in her cousin’s voice. “No, of course not. Though it’s only a matter of time before she finds out.”
“I remember how freaked out she got the last time we did this.”
“Well, hopefully she won’t find out until it’s all over.”
“What’s all over? We still don’t have any idea who did this.”
Clara leaned back on her chair. “No, we don’t. Though I did find out something interesting on the computer tonight.” She recited as much of the article about Amy Tomeski as she could remember.
“Oh, that poor woman,” Stephanie said when she was done. “She must have been in a terrible state to do that. Can you imagine thinking that you and your baby would be better off dead?”
She sounded close to tears, and Clara hurried on. “The thing is, she could be related to Frank Tomeski.”
There was a long pause while Stephanie thought about it. “That’s quite a long shot.”
“I know, but it’s not a very common name. I looked it up in the white pages for Portland. It’s not even listed in there.”
“Even if she was related, what would that have to do with Frank Tomeski’s murder?”
“I don’t know.” Clara frowned. “I just have a gut feeling about it.
Stephanie’s voice rose a notch. “The Quinn Sense?”
“Maybe. It told me I need to go to City Hall. I think we need to talk to Dan about this.”
“But none of it makes sense. When did this Amy person die?”
“According to the article, about five years ago.”
“I just don’t see how something that happened that long ago could have anything to do with the murder.”
Clara was inclined to agree, yet she couldn’t rid herself of the niggling feeling that she was onto something. “I think we need to find out for sure before we go to Dan.”
A Sinister Sense Page 15