Stephanie looked amused. “Do you think he’ll flatten her?”
“He might. He did me when I got home tonight.”
“You’re kidding.” Stephanie turned her head. “Sounds like Aunt Jessie has things under control.”
From the hallway came the sound of scuffling and Jessie’s laughter.
“She always has things under control,” Clara muttered. She got up from the table. “Guess we’ll have to finish this conversation later.”
Stephanie got up, too. “Don’t worry, Clara. We’ll think of something.” She couldn’t say any more as Jessie poked her head in the kitchen doorway. “Oh, there you are. Hello, Stephanie, dear. I thought I recognized your car.” She looked around. “George and the kids didn’t come with you?”
“No, I just popped in to…ah…discuss business at the store.” Stephanie walked over to her aunt and gave her a hug. “How are you?”
“Wonderful. How are the children? I haven’t seen them in ages.”
“I’ll have you over for dinner real soon.” Stephanie turned to Clara. “It’s your day off tomorrow. Make the most of it.”
Interpreting the hidden message, Clara nodded. “I’ll try.”
“You don’t have to leave yet, do you?” Jessie walked with Stephanie to the hallway. “Can’t you stay and chat for a while?”
“I wish I could.” Stephanie glanced at her watch. “I should get back. The kids always take advantage of George when I’m not there, and heaven knows what they are up to by now.”
“George is a grown man. He should be able to take care of his own kids.”
Stephanie smiled. “You’d think. The truth is, he’s a pushover with them and they know it.”
Jessie shook her head. “I still find it hard to believe that you’re the mother of three children. It doesn’t seem all that long ago that you two were kids yourselves.” She closed her eyes and clutched her heart. “I hope to goodness your children are easier to handle than you two were. You were never happy unless you were playing tricks on someone or other.”
Stephanie laughed. “I guess we were a bit unruly.”
“Unruly?” Jessie shook her head. “My dear, you two were holy terrors. I still shudder every time I remember the night you convinced your babysitter she was seeing a ghost and just about gave her a heart attack. She never came near this house again. What’s more, she told all her friends. Your mother and I had the devil of a time trying to find a babysitter after that.”
“She was an idiot. Any sane person could tell it wasn’t a ghost.” Stephanie opened the front door. “Thanks for the wine, Clara.”
Jessie twisted her head around to look at Clara. “Wine? Any left?”
“Half a bottle.” Clara nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “Help yourself.”
Waving good-night to Stephanie, Jessie disappeared into the living room.
“Don’t worry,” Stephanie whispered. “We’ll work something out. Just enjoy your day off tomorrow.”
“I’ll try,” Clara promised, though she could see the day stretching ahead of her with nothing to do but worry about Rick.
She closed the door and went hunting for Tatters’ leash. A walk along the beach would help clear her mind and perhaps give her some ideas of what to do next. Right then she couldn’t seem to think about anything except Rick on a narrow cot in a holding cell, scared out of his mind.
Had he been formally charged? she wondered. The sound of the TV tempted her to watch the news with her mother, but she dismissed the idea. The last thing she needed tonight was another long discussion on how stupid she was to believe a man innocent, despite all the evidence pointing otherwise.
Poking her head around the living room door, she announced, “I’m taking the dog for a walk. I won’t be long.”
Jessie nodded and waved her wineglass at her. “I’ll just finish this and then I’m going to bed. Oh, by the way, I suppose you heard that your hardware man has been arrested.”
“Yes, I did. Good-night, Mother.” Clara withdrew her head, called out to Tatters and was out the door before she had time to hear her mother’s answer.
The walk did little to chase away her troubled thoughts, and she spent a restless night tossing around in her bed. She awoke the next morning to the sound of Tatters barking and the doorbell ringing frantically. It took her a moment or two to remember it was her day off, and she considered ignoring the doorbell. The persistent pealing was annoying, however, and with a muttered curse she fell out of bed and dragged on her robe.
Outside in the hallway, Tatters leapt up and down, his deep barks sending shafts of pain through her head. She gave him a sharp command as she headed for the front door and pulled it open.
Stephanie stood on the front step, her face glowing with excitement. “I’ve got the greatest idea! I really think it will work if we—” She broke off, her gaze traveling down Clara’s body as if just noticing her for the first time. “Oh crap. Did I wake you up?”
“You probably woke up the entire neighborhood.” Clara peered down the street, to where a teenager dragged a buzzing lawn mower across a front lawn. “What’s the time, anyway?”
Stephanie glanced at her watch. “It’s a little after nine. Sorry. I keep forgetting you sleep late.”
“It’s okay. Come in. I’ll get us some coffee.” Clara closed the door behind her cousin. “Maybe then I can get my brain to function.” She led the way into the living room, then paused when a thought struck her. “Why aren’t you at the store? There isn’t any more news, is there? About Rick, I mean.”
“No, not that I’ve heard, anyway.” Stephanie followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the table. “That’s not why I’m here. I thought it better to talk about this in person than on the phone.”
“Talk about what?”
“You asked me to come up with an idea of how we can prove the mayor killed Frank Tomeski.”
Jessie had left the coffeepot on, and Clara emptied it into two mugs. Carrying them over to the table, she asked, “So what’s the idea?”
Stephanie looked a little sheepish. “Well, it’s kind of complicated. Maybe you should drink your coffee first.”
Frowning, Clara opened the fridge and took out a carton of milk. Stephanie’s ideas were notorious for being impractical at best and downright dangerous at worst. Already Clara was having qualms about it. She handed Stephanie the milk and sat down. The coffee tasted bitter and wasn’t all that hot, but it woke her up enough to listen to her cousin’s latest brain wave.
Stephanie took her time pouring milk into her coffee. She sipped it and pulled a face before putting the mug down. “I love Aunt Jessie dearly, but she makes the worst coffee I ever tasted.”
“How do you know she made it?”
“Because you just fell out of bed.”
“Oh, right.” Clara ran a hand through her tangled hair. “I must look a mess.”
Stephanie grinned. “I wouldn’t suggest paying Rick Sanders a visit looking like that.”
Clara decided to ignore the insult and said instead, “Which brings us to your idea. So, tell me.”
Stephanie drew in a long breath. “All right. Remember what Aunt Jessie said last night about us making our babysitter think she was seeing a ghost?”
“Yeah, I think I can remember that far back.”
Stephanie sighed. “Well, I thought we could make Carson Dexter think he was seeing the ghost of Amy Tomeski coming to haunt him. It might unnerve him enough for him to confess what he did.”
Clara stared at her. “Are you nuts? Our babysitter was a gullible teenager. Carson Dexter is a grown man and, if we’re right, a dangerous killer. How on earth are we going to fool him?”
Stephanie pouted. “I don’t think the mayor is a dangerous killer. I think he might have gotten caught up in the circumstances and did something he wouldn’t normally do. I think he’s probably scared right now, and if we can catch him off guard, we might get him to say something that would give us the proof
we need.”
Clara stared at her over the rim of her coffee mug. “You know, sometimes you actually make sense.”
“Thank you.”
“But I still don’t see how in the world we’re going to convince him he’s seeing Amy Tomeski’s ghost.”
Stephanie leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. “That’s the interesting part. I looked up that article you mentioned on the Internet. Did you see the pic of Amy?”
“Yes, I did. She looks nothing like her brother.” Clara frowned. “Of course, her brother was dead when they took his picture, so—”
“Clara.” Stephanie pulled her hair back with both hands. “Did she remind you of anyone?”
“No.” Clara looked harder at her cousin. “Why?”
“She was short, blonde and”—Stephanie looked down at her stomach—“just a little overweight.”
Clara put down her mug. “Wait a minute.”
“No, listen.” Stephanie held up her hand. “We can find those huge black earrings like the ones she was wearing in the photo, in one of the souvenir shops. I’ll tie my hair up like this.” She bunched up her hair again and pulled it back. “Huh? What do you think?”
Clara studied her, doubts crowding her mind. “Well, maybe you do look a little like her but—”
“You know that black and white striped tank top she was wearing? Well, George has a golf shirt with the same kind of stripes. I can cut out the sleeves and collar, and wear jeans like she did, and I’ll look enough like her to fool Carson Dexter. After all, he hasn’t seen her in what…five years? Six?”
Clara’s pulse started racing, the way it did when she knew she was about to do something really stupid. “I suppose…if we’re in a dark place somewhere, but—”
“This is what we do.”
Stephanie was in full throttle now, and knowing there was no stopping her, Clara lapsed into silence.
“We call Carson Dexter from a pay phone and tell him that someone from his past wants to meet him at midnight in the community hall. George has a key to the hall, for when he coaches basketball there. We’ll turn off the main lights from the fuse box and just leave the stage lamps on. They’re on a different circuit.”
“How do you know all that?”
Stephanie made a face. “I’ve spent enough time messing around with that stuff while George was busy with the kids.
“What if he doesn’t come?”
“We make it sound like he’ll be in deep trouble if he doesn’t.”
“What if he brings Dan with him?”
“And risk being arrested for murder? I don’t think so.”
Clara struggled with her conscience for a moment longer. “It sounds all right on the surface, but—”
“If we stop and worry about what could go wrong, we’ll never get anywhere.” Stephanie picked up her mug again. “Don’t you want to clear Rick’s name?”
“Well, of course I do. But what if we’re wrong about Carson Dexter? What if he’s not the killer after all?”
“I guess we’ll find out tonight.”
Clara swallowed too fast and choked. “Tonight?”
“We have to strike fast. Besides, today is your day off. It will give us time to get done what we need to do.”
“What about the store?”
“Molly can take care of it. We’re always slow at the beginning of the week.” Stephanie glanced at the clock. “I’d better get back and cut up George’s shirt. You see if you can find earrings that match the ones in the picture of Amy.” She got up and headed for the living room. “We’ll meet back here tonight. What time do you think we should call the mayor?”
“I don’t know.” Clara was getting more worried about the whole thing by the minute. “We have to give him enough time to get down to the community hall, and give us enough time to get there before him.”
“Okay, I’ll meet you back here at ten.”
Clara followed her across the room while Tatters hovered hopefully by the front door. “What about George?”
“What about him?” Stephanie paused in the act of opening the door. “I’m not going to tell him what we’re planning, if that’s what you think.”
“No, of course not. How are you going to explain, though, about going out at ten o’clock at night? Where will you tell him you’re going?”
Stephanie frowned. “I’ll think of something. You’d better think of something to tell Aunt Jessie.”
Clara shook her head. “I don’t know, Steffie. This all seems a bit risky. We could end up in a lot of trouble.”
Stephanie grinned. “Reminds you of the old days, doesn’t it?”
“Too much. Still, if it helps put Carson Dexter in jail instead of Rick, I guess it’s worth the risk.”
“That’s my cousin!” Stephanie gave her a sharp nudge with her elbow. “I was beginning to think that New York had taken away all your spirit.”
“More like it taught me to use common sense.” Clara sighed. “Something tells me we’re going to regret this, but for what it’s worth, I’m in. With both feet.”
“Great.” Stephanie leapt down the steps. “See you tonight!”
Clara closed the door and leaned on it. What had she done? Got carried away by one of Stephanie’s wild schemes again, that’s what.
Tatters sat at her feet, looked up at her and whined.
“Good idea,” she muttered. “But first I have to shower, dress and eat.” She headed for the bathroom, trying not to think about all the things that could go wrong with their plan. Best not think about it at all, she told herself, as she turned on the faucet in the shower. Otherwise she’d be a basket case by the time her cousin got there that night. Judging from experience, this adventure could well end up in total disaster.
An hour or so later Clara fastened the leash to Tatters’ collar and the two of them took off down the street. This time she walked along the boardwalk, where tourists hovered in front of noisy arcades, souvenir shops and fast-food stands.
The aroma of pizza, hot dogs and lobster rolls mingled with the salty smell of seaweed and sand, and screeching children dodged in and out of the crowd. Tatters seemed unmoved by all the activity, content to sniff the air as he trotted ahead of his owner.
Pausing beneath a blue and white striped awning, Clara peered in the window of a quaint gift shop. An assortment of seashells and ships in bottles shared room with miniature lighthouses and delicate sculptures of seagulls and whales.
“This looks promising,” Clara murmured. She tied Tatters’ leash to a railing in front of the window and told him to stay. “You’ll get a cookie if you don’t move or make a sound,” she told him. Tatters looked worried but obediently sat, his ears flat against his head—a sure sign he wasn’t too happy.
“I won’t be long.” Clara gave him a final pat and hurried into the store. Walking rapidly along the shelves, she passed small stands of fridge ornaments and calendars with pictures of the shoreline. She knew she was getting warmer when she spotted a display of ornamental combs and barrettes. At the next counter she hit pay dirt: trays loaded with earrings of all shapes and sizes.
Large black ones had to be in fashion, as she found an assortment of them. None of them matched the ones Amy Tomeski was wearing in her photo, but Clara found ones that were close to the shape and size. She had just swiped her credit card when she heard an uproar outside. Someone was shouting amid the frantic barking of a dog.
“I’ll be right back,” she told the startled assistant, and rushed out of the store.
A little crowd had gathered outside, and Clara had to push her way through to see the source of all the commotion. Her stomach dropped when she saw Tatters, hair raised on his neck and barking furiously at the young man he had cornered against the window.
“Tatters! How could you! Bad boy!” She darted forward and grabbed the dog’s collar.
Tatters stopped barking and emitted low growls instead. His ears quivered with indignation and a long ridge of hair stood upright on his
back.
“I’m so sorry,” Clara said as the scared-looking teen edged around them. “I don’t know why he’s behaving like this. I hope he didn’t hurt you.”
The young man didn’t answer. He just dipped his head, shoved his way through the crowd and disappeared.
“He tried to steal your dog,” a woman said as the rest of the people gradually wandered off. “He untied the leash, and the minute he tried to pull the dog away, it started barking and snapping at him.” She looked down at Tatters and smiled. “That’s a smart dog. He knew he didn’t want to go with that nasty man.”
Clara’s mouth felt dry as she realized how close she’d come to losing Tatters. “Thank you,” she told the woman. “I wonder if you’d do me a big favor? I have to go back into the store to get something. I hate to ask, but I don’t want to leave Tatters alone again—”
“Of course I’ll hold him.” The woman smiled and held out her hand for the leash. “I love dogs. We’ll get along just fine.”
“That’s so kind of you. I’ll be as quick as I can.” Clara handed over the leash and dashed back into the store. The assistant had the earrings in a bag all ready to go, and handed her the receipt. Clara smiled her thanks and ran out of the store again, half-afraid she’d find the woman had left and taken Tatters with her.
Her relief made her limp when she saw the dog where she’d left him, happily watching a group of children chase a kite down the beach.
With a smile, the woman handed the leash back to her. “You work in the Raven’s Nest, don’t you?” she said when Clara thanked her. “I remember seeing you in there the other day. I stopped in to buy my niece that latest vampire book that’s all the rage.”
Clara smiled. “Yes, I work there. My cousin owns the store.”
“Oh, you’re Stephanie’s cousin?” The woman shook her head. “I’m afraid I’m not a big reader. I don’t have much time to read, so I don’t go into the store that much.” She paused, then added, “You must know Rick Sanders, then? He owns Parson’s Hardware across the street.”
Clara felt her spine going rigid. Making an effort to keep the tension out of her voice, she said, “I know him well.”
A Sinister Sense Page 18