Trouble Vision

by Allison Kingsley

  4

  “We should make it in time for morning recess,” Clara said as she parked the car behind the school. “Otherwise we’ll have to wait until lunchtime, and that would make me late for my shift at the bookstore.”

  “We won’t have to wait. There’s Mr. Millstone.” Stephanie nodded at the play area, where kids ran around yelling at each other, while others stood in little groups, absorbed in whatever they were doing.

  The guy Clara had seen the night of the meeting stood by the fence, reading a sheet of paper that flapped in the wind. He’d tied his hair back into a short ponytail, and his shoulders were hunched against the cold.

  Thankful she didn’t have to find an excuse to visit him inside the school, Clara approached the fence. When she spoke his name, Josh Millstone spun around, his eyes wide with surprise. He had dark freckles all over his face, and his eyebrows were so flimsy and fair they almost disappeared.

  He looked at Clara as if she’d appeared out of the ground. “Can I help you?”

  Clara dragged Stephanie closer to the fence. “This is my cousin, and her kids go to this school. Her eldest, Ethan Dowd, is a huge admirer of yours. He’s always talking about your fight to protect the wildlife.”

  The teacher glanced across the playground, then at Stephanie. “I’m sorry. I’m not familiar with his name.”

  “Oh, he’s not in your class,” Stephanie said, looking flustered. “He just knows about your interest in the environment.”

  Josh seemed pleasantly surprised. “Really? So how can I help you?”

  Clara smiled. “We just wanted to ask you about your protests up at the construction site on the bluff.”

  Now wariness crossed the teacher’s face. “What about it?”

  “Did you know Scott Delwyn?”

  He didn’t answer at first, but stared at Clara as if trying to figure out what she was getting at. Finally he said, “So that’s what this is about. You think my protest group had something to do with his death?”

  Clara met his gaze. “Did it?”

  For another long moment he seemed about to explode in anger, then to Clara’s surprise and relief, he laughed. “Nothing like coming straight to the point.”

  She shrugged. “Just asking.”

  “I thought Mr. Delwyn’s death was an accident.”

  “We’re just making sure, that’s all.”

  “Aren’t the cops supposed to do that?”

  “Yes.” Clara smiled at him again. “But you know as well as I do that no matter how good the cops are, sometimes they miss things.”

  His frown reappeared. “Are you saying it wasn’t an accident?”

  “We’re not saying anything; just asking a few questions, that’s all.”

  Josh nodded. “Well, okay. For what it’s worth, I can assure you that none of my people would resort to violence of any kind. We’ll protest, yes, and now and again we’ll try to disrupt things if it helps to emphasize our cause, but violence?” He shook his head. “Not on our agenda. I’ll vouch for everyone in the group on that. Besides, most of us were together the night Scott died. We all met in the diner before the meeting.”

  She couldn’t be sure if he knew every one of his followers well enough to vouch for them, but he obviously thought he did. “I guess that’s good enough for me. Thank you, Mr. Millstone. We appreciate you taking the time to talk to us.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Stephanie added breathlessly, suddenly springing to life.

  Josh raised his hand. “My pleasure. Say hi to your son.”

  “I will.” Beaming, Stephanie stepped away from the fence.

  Clara was about to follow her when Josh called out, “Oh, by the way. I don’t know if this means anything, but if you’re looking for someone with a grudge against Scott Delwyn, you might want to talk to Eddie Hatchett.”

  Clara blinked, trying to remember where she’d heard that name before. Then it dawned on her: he was the son of her mother’s electrician. One of the men escorted from the meeting hall the other night. “Yes, I know he’s upset about the project. Then again, so are a lot of people.”

  “He’s more than upset.” Josh moved closer to the fence and lowered his voice. “He was working at the construction site when Scott fired him for turning up to work drunk. I was there when Eddie threatened Scott. I can’t remember exactly what he said, but it wasn’t pretty.”

  Clara felt a stab of excitement. “Thanks! I’ll check into it.”

  “Be careful. Guys like Eddie are usually all talk and no action, but you never know.”

  “I’ll be careful.” She waved at him and chased after Stephanie. Her cousin had reached the car and stood with the passenger door open, looking in her direction.

  Clara sprinted across the parking lot to join her.

  “You don’t think he had anything to do with it?” Stephanie asked anxiously. “He seems like such a nice man. Ethan will be devastated if he turns out to be a killer.”

  “No, I don’t think he’s a killer.” Once more, Clara slid in behind the wheel. “But he did give me a lead on someone else.” She told her cousin what Josh had said about Eddie Hatchett. “His father is an electrician,” she said, as she drove out into the street. “They were both in our house a month ago.”

  Stephanie frowned. “Eddie Hatchett. I know that name, but I can’t think where I heard it.”

  “He and his father were the two guys yelling at the meeting the other night.”

  Stephanie seemed not to hear as she stared at the road ahead. “I know I heard it somewhere. Eddie Hatchett. I’m sure I know that name.”

  “Maybe you hired his father. Have you had any electrical work done lately?”

  Stephanie shook her head. “George does most of that stuff. It pays to marry a handyman.”

  Clara grinned. “I bet it does.”

  “Ah!” Stephanie bounced on her seat. “I know where I heard Eddie’s name.”

  “Where?”

  “He’s a good friend of Molly’s ex-boyfriend. You know, Jason, the one with the motorbike? When Molly was going out with him, she was always talking about Eddie, and how he was a troublemaker and she wished Jason wouldn’t hang out with him. Of course, Jason was no prize, either, but she couldn’t see that. Not until she caught him cheating on her, anyway. I think—”

  “So Molly knows Eddie Hatchett?”

  “Yes, she does, but—” Stephanie gasped. “You’re not thinking of asking her to question him, are you?”

  “She just needs to talk to him and see if she can find out where he was on the night Scott died.”

  “That would mean we’d have to tell her we think Scott was murdered.”

  “Yep, I guess it does.” Clara glanced at her cousin. “She’s helped us before.”

  “I know; it’s not that. I just wonder what reason we’re going to give her for thinking that.”

  “Good question. I’ll think of something.”

  “I don’t know if we should ask her to question Eddie. He could be a killer. What if he attacked her? I’d never forgive myself if something bad happened to her.”

  “We’ll have to make sure she meets him in a public place. I could go with her and just stay out of sight while she talks to him.”

  Stephanie made a face. “Like where and when?”

  “I’ll work on it.”

  Clara pulled up in front of the Raven’s Nest a few minutes later. “I’ll let you off here. I have to go shopping for dog food before I come back to work. I still have about an hour left. That should give me plenty of time to get done what I need to do.”

  Stephanie opened the car door. “Promise me you won’t do anything risky on your own?”

  Clara smiled. “I promise. I’m just going to do some shopping, that’s all.”

  Stephanie nodded, then hurried into the bookstore without looking back.

  Clara spent the next hour picking up food and treats for Tatters, and checking out the spring fashions in Finn’s Harbor’s one and only clothes sto
re. She usually shopped in nearby Mittleford at the outlet center, but she rarely missed an opportunity to check out the latest styles at Jasmine’s Boutique, most of which she couldn’t afford.

  She arrived back at the Raven’s nest just as Stephanie was leaving. “We’re busy in there,” she said as Clara passed her in the doorway. “Molly’s waiting for you.”

  “I’ll call tonight.” Without waiting to talk further, Clara headed for the counter.

  Molly was arguing with John Halloran, a somewhat crotchety individual who now and again helped Rick in the hardware store.

  John had once owned a candy store called the Sweet Spot farther down the street, but had ended up losing his business and his wife in the same year. He had never been a really cheerful man. Clara remembered him from when she and Stephanie visited his store as kids. Her cousin had been convinced John was an evil wizard, just waiting for a chance to turn them into toads.

  Watching him now, Clara had to admit the elderly man did look a little forbidding, with his bowed shoulders, balding head and thick black-rimmed glasses. Years of disappointment and resentment had etched deep furrows in his forehead, and his cheeks sagged on either side of thin lips and a stubbly chin.

  “We keep a file of everyone’s orders on the computer,” Molly said, raising her voice. “We put them in as soon as the customer gives it to us, so I couldn’t have forgotten to order your book. You must have forgotten to ask for it.”

  “I did not forget,” John said, his voice gruff with annoyance. “You young people today don’t know how to run a store. In my day—”

  Clara decided it was time to butt in. “Can I help you, John?”

  He turned, pale eyes glaring through the smudged lenses of his glasses. “This girl doesn’t know what she’s doing. I ordered Paul Wiley’s latest book two months ago and now she’s telling me I didn’t order it.” He glared at Molly again. “But I did.”

  “Well, I’m sure we can find you a copy,” Clara began, but he interrupted her with a swift flap of his hand.

  “No, you can’t. It’s all sold out, which is precisely why I ordered it in the first place.” He sent another glowering glance at Molly. “It always sells out.”

  Clara walked behind the counter and pulled up the file on the computer. “I see we’ve ordered more copies. They should be here by the beginning of next week. I’ll make sure we have a copy for you.” She smiled at him. “I’ll even give you a call when it comes in. I’m sorry you have to wait for it.”

  “Not your fault.” John tugged up the collar of his coat to cover the back of his neck. “It’s her fault. I distinctly remember asking her to put in an order for me.” With a parting lethal glance at Molly, he turned and stomped out of the store.

  “I know I would have put the order in if he’d asked me,” Molly said, sounding close to tears.

  “Don’t worry. John’s getting old. He gets confused a lot.” Clara finished making a note to hold a copy of the Wiley book for John and closed out the file. “He’s a good customer, though, which is why we put up with him.”

  “I know. The customer’s always right.” Molly heaved a noisy sigh. “Sometimes it’s hard to remember that.”

  Clara grinned. “Why don’t you go grab a mug of coffee? I can handle things for a bit.”

  Molly’s frown disappeared. “Thanks. I could use one right now.” She took off, disappearing down the center aisle.

  Clara spared a brief thought to how she would approach the subject of Molly’s help, then had to forget it as customers began lining up at the counter.

  It was an hour or so before the store emptied out and Clara finally had a few moments to take a break. She found Molly in the Reading Nook, tidying up a stack of magazines that had been scattered all over the tables.

  Pouring herself a cup of coffee, Clara said casually, “How would you like to help Stephanie and me catch another killer?”

  Molly paused, a magazine dangling from her fingers. “Really? Cool!” Then her expression changed. “Wait a minute. Who got killed?”

  “Scott Delwyn.”

  “But I thought that was an accident.”

  “Officially it is, which is why we have to be careful.”

  Molly’s eyes widened. “You think someone killed him?”

  “I think it’s possible. Stephanie and I want to look into it, just in case.”

  To Clara’s relief, Molly was so thrilled to be included in the investigation, she didn’t ask for details. “You two should open up a detective agency,” she said as Clara carried her coffee over to an armchair and sat down.

  Clara laughed. “Thanks, but that’d be a little too much excitement for me. I don’t know why we keep getting caught up in this stuff, anyway. It always seems like a good idea at the time.”

  “Because you and Stephanie are great at it.” Molly dropped the magazines on a table and sank onto the adjacent armchair. “That’s why you should open up an agency.”

  “I think we’ve got our hands full enough with the bookstore.” Clara took a sip of her coffee and set the mug down on a side table.

  “So what do you want me to do?”

  Clara hesitated, then decided that as long as she accompanied Molly, their assistant would be safe enough. “You know Eddie Hatchett, right?”

  Molly raised her eyebrows. “Eddie? Yes, I know him. He’s a buddy of Jason’s.” She gasped. “You think he killed Scott? I’m not really surprised. I never liked him. He’s a mean dude. He’s always, like, arguing with someone over something. I could never understand why Jason hung out with him.”

  “We don’t know, yet, if anyone killed Scott,” Clara said quickly. “We’re just asking questions, that’s all. Finding out where people were that night and what they were doing. Eddie is just a name on a long list of suspects. There are an awful lot of people who hate the construction on the bluff and any one of them could have let their temper get out of control.”

  “Enough to kill?” Molly frowned. “Didn’t they say that Scott fell off the scaffolding? I can’t imagine too many people would climb up there just to have an argument.”

  “We think it’s possible someone killed Scott and then pushed him off the scaffolding to make it look like he fell.”

  Clara waited, hoping Molly wouldn’t ask too many questions.

  “So,” she said at last, “you don’t really know for sure.”

  “I guess we just want to make certain that it really was an accident. Eddie was heard arguing with Scott and threatening him. That’s why he’s on our list.”

  She let out her breath when Molly nodded. “Okay. So what can I do to help?”

  “I was hoping you could talk to Eddie and find out where he was that evening. According to the police report, Scott died soon after his shift ended, around six or so. If Eddie has an alibi for that time, we can cross him off the list.”

  Molly stared down at her hands. “I really don’t like the guy. I haven’t talked to Jason in months. I don’t even know if Eddie still hangs out with him.”

  “I know it’s a lot to ask.” Clara paused, choosing her words carefully. “It’s important, Molly. Eddie knows you. He’s a lot more likely to talk to you than me. We’ll have to try and catch him in a public place, and I’ll be with you. Just out of sight, that’s all.”

  “Well, that’s easy.” Molly looked up, her face still creased in doubt. “If Eddie is still hanging with Jason, they’ll be at the pool table in the Laurel Street Tavern. They used to go there every Friday night.”

  Clara winced. “Oh please, not that place again. The last time we were there, we almost got into a brawl.”

  Molly grinned. “I remember. Some dude got all twisted because you were questioning his girlfriend.”

  “And what about the biker-babe manager who was all set to throw us out of there?”

  “And the female wrestler waiting on tables?”

  They both laughed, though Clara didn’t feel at all like laughing. Just the thought of going back to that tavern
gave her hives. “Well,” she said reluctantly, “it’s Friday. What are you doing tonight?”

  Molly crossed her arms. “I think I’m going to pay a visit to the Laurel Street Tavern. How about you?”

  “Sounds like a good idea.”

  “What about Stephanie? Is she coming, too?”

  Remembering how close they’d come to getting into trouble the last time, Clara doubted it. “I’ll ask her,” she said, “but it’s not always easy for her to get out. When you’ve got three kids and a husband to take care of, last-minute invitations are out of the question.”

  “I know.” Molly sighed. “Kind of puts me off the idea of marriage.”

  As she got up from her seat, Clara patted her assistant’s arm. “You’ll change your mind when you meet the right guy.”

  “How come you’re not married?” Molly reached for the pile of magazines and stood. “Or is that a rude question?”

  Clara managed a smile. “Just never met the right guy, I guess.”

  “What about Rick Sanders?”

  Luckily Molly was walking away from her and couldn’t see the expression that Clara knew had crossed her face. “What about him?”

  “I thought you two were getting cozy.” Molly looked back over her shoulder. “He’s a hunk. I’d grab him before Roberta gets her claws in him.”

  Clara made a face. Roberta Prince owned the stationer’s next door, and had made no secret of the fact that she intended to snag Rick for her next husband. She’d actually purchased the store just so she could be on his doorstep every day.

  The fact that Rick wasn’t too thrilled with her interest didn’t seem to bother her. In fact, Roberta took it as a challenge, and was always scheming to find ways to spend time with him. She was a formidable opponent, consistently dressed in the latest fashions with perfect hair and makeup. She could put down the toughest critic with her sharp tongue, and never missed an opportunity to take a verbal swipe at Clara.

  “I’m not worried about Roberta.” Clara picked up her mug and carried it over to the sink. “Rick would never get involved with someone like her. She sounds too much like his ex-wife.”