Mind Over Murder
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“Stephanie Quinn Dowd, you’ve got to be kidding!” Clara Quinn stared at her cousin’s serious face and suppressed an urge to laugh. “I’ve never worked in a bookstore. Or any store for that matter. Why in the world would you want me to manage yours?”
The other woman puffed a strand of fair hair out of her eyes and dumped a pile of books onto the counter in front of her.
“Because you’re smart, you’re personable and you have a degree in literature. I need someone for the afternoon shift. Twelve till eight. I’ll be here most of the day. Besides, you need a job, and I desperately need help. Look at this!” She swept a hand around her in a wide arc.
Clara gazed around at the rows of shelves loaded with books, the tables displaying classic titles, the posters on the walls and the cozy corner with its deep armchairs and large coffee urn.
It didn’t look much different from the last time she’d seen it, shortly after Stephanie had opened the store three months ago. Except for the sinister-looking stuffed raven perched on a light fixture and the sparkling colored crystals slowly spinning from the ceiling on golden cords. Oh, and maybe the life-size figure of a fortune-teller hovering over a crystal ball. Clara grinned. “I didn’t know you still had Madam Sophia.”
Stephanie’s laugh seemed to echo along the shelves. “Do you remember when we rescued her from that awful carnival?”
“How could I forget? I was the one who climbed up that huge pile of trash to get to her.”
“We were so excited. Then my mom saw us carrying it upstairs to my room and just about went berserk.”
Clara shook her head. “Poor Madam Sophia. Relegated to a cold, drafty garage.”
“We didn’t sleep all night worrying about her.”
Clara joined in her cousin’s laughter. “Well, she looks healthy enough now.”
Stephanie’s grin vanished as the sound of angry voices erupted on the street outside. “What’s going on out there?”
“Sounds like someone’s upset about something.” Clara glanced at the old-fashioned grandfather clock by the door. “I’d better get going. I’m supposed to be looking for an apartment.”
“Wait! Are you going to help me out or not?”
Clara paused, reluctant to give an answer. It was true she needed a job. She just wasn’t sure this one would be a good idea. For a lot of reasons.
“Please?” Stephanie looked worried. “Ever since I started serving coffee and snacks in the Reading Nook, we’ve been swamped with customers. Molly’s been doing the afternoon shift now that Jonathon has gone back to college, but I really need her here in the mornings, and I must have someone reliable to take over for her in the afternoons.”
“Have you tried advertising the position?”
“Of course, but this is a small town, and it’s hard finding someone suitable for the job. My mom’s been taking care of the kids while I’m here, but once school starts next week she’ll be back at work, and I can’t rely on George; he has his own job to worry about. I’m pretty desperate, Clara.”
Again Clara struggled with her conscience. “I’d like to, Stephanie, but I don’t really have the time.” Seeing her cousin’s face freeze, she hurried on. “I’m still getting settled in, I’m looking for an apartment and I have to find a teaching position—”
Again the raised voices interrupted her. Glancing at the window, she puffed out her breath. From the day they were born, just two months apart, she and Stephanie had shared everything from baby formulas and childhood nightmares to adolescent dreams. Since neither of them had siblings, they’d turned to each other, forming a sisterhood that had lasted thirty years and would continue, Clara hoped, for as long as they lived. They trusted and relied on each other as only close family can.
She would do almost anything for Stephanie, and now her cousin needed her. She just couldn’t see any way she could refuse without seeming selfish and heartless.
Swallowing her reservations, she held up her hands. “All right. I’ll do it. On the condition that it’s only until you find someone permanent.”
“Great!” Stephanie’s face glowed with excitement. “Can you start tomorrow? Perhaps come in a little early? I could use the extra help for the sale.”
Clara gave her a reluctant nod. “Okay.”
“Thanks. It’ll be fun; you’ll see.”
“I’m not so sure.” Clara waved a hand at the shelves. “You know how I feel about all this magic and spiritual stuff.”
“I know you used to love it as much as I do. Until you found out you have the Quinn Sense.”
And there it was. Clara waited a full five seconds before answering. “We’ve talked about this before. That’s why I left Finn’s Harbor in the first place. To get away from all that.”
“And now you’re back.” Stephanie came out from behind the counter and laid a hand on her cousin’s arm. “I don’t know why you’re so determined to ignore the fact that you have the gift. It’s a family heritage, and I’d give anything to have it.”
“I’d give anything if you had it instead of me.”
“I know. That’s what makes it so frustrating.” Stephanie dropped her hand and frowned at the window as the sound of angry voices outside intensified. “I’d better go and see what all that is about.”
Heading for the door, she threw words over her shoulder. “Be a dear before you leave and go to the stockroom for me? I need the box marked ‘High School.’ The books are required reading for the students, and I need to get the rest of these tables set up if we’re going to start our back-to-school event today.” She disappeared, leaving her cousin no chance to answer.
Shaking her head, Clara set off down one of the aisles to the back of the store. Talk of the gift had unsettled her, as it always did. Most members of the Quinn family had some psychic ability, and she wasn’t happy about being included in that favored circle. In fact, it had become such a burden that she’d left Maine in the hopes that she could forget all about the family curse, as she called it, and feel less of a freak.
At first, in the excitement of attending college in New York, she’d managed to ignore the odd moments when she could read people’s hidden thoughts or have a momentary glimpse into the future. For a while she’d almost felt normal.
But life in New York was so different from the life she’d left behind in Finn’s Harbor. She missed her family and friends, and Stephanie most of all. Each time she’d visited, it had gotten harder to leave.
There was a time when she’d resented the small-town community, where it seemed that everyone knew everybody’s business. She’d found out, however, that a big city could be incredibly lonely, and true friends were hard to make. In her need for companionship, she’d sometimes been too quick to trust, and it had backfired on her. Big time.
Coming back to Finn’s Harbor, however, meant facing the same demons that had sent her away in the first place. Pushing open the stockroom door, Clara sighed. All she could hope was that she’d made the right decision to come back to her hometown. Only time would tell.
Inside the crowded room, she gazed in awe at the piles of boxes stacked against the walls. It looked like she’d arrived in the nick of time. Stephanie sure had her hands full, now that the Raven’s Nest bookstore had become one of the most popular social centers in town.
Catching sight of the bust of a man, she moved over to the table to inspect it more closely. The face looked vaguely familiar, and she studied it for a moment before bending closer to read the inscription. Of course. Edgar Allan Poe. She should have guessed. Stephanie crammed her shelves with anything remotely connected to the author.
Gently, she laid a hand on the smooth surface of the head. So many nights when she and her cousin were kids, they’d spent sleepovers watching horror movies and pretending to be psychics.
They’d filled hours reading each other’s palms and predicting wild, adventurous futures for thems
elves. They’d eagerly discussed how they would use the Quinn Sense once they developed it.
Even then she’d felt uneasy about it, though she’d never admitted as much to Stephanie. Her cousin had loved every creepy moment, while Clara had been scared they would conjure up some terrible evil spirit who would steal their souls.
At first, when she’d realized she had inherited the family’s psychic powers, it had seemed thrilling and even empowering, but as time went by, the voices she heard became an intrusion. It hadn’t helped matters to learn that somehow the gift had bypassed Stephanie.
Clara sighed and patted the bust. How ironic that she should be the one to inherit the Quinn Sense, as everyone called it, instead of her spook-happy cousin.
The sudden tingling in her hand took her by surprise. She snatched it back as a wave of darkness seemed to cloud her mind. Evil. She could sense it in the room, cold and menacing.
For a moment she felt rooted to the spot, unable to move a muscle. Then she forced her mind to clear, and everything settled back into place.
Heart still pounding, she quickly scanned the boxes until she found the one marked “High School” in uneven black letters. She grabbed it up and charged out the door, not even bothering to close it behind her.
She reached the counter just as Stephanie walked in through the front door, followed closely by a young woman with tangled red hair and flushed cheeks. Both of them stared as Clara came to a halt, breathless and shaking.
Her cousin was the first to speak. “Are you okay? You’re looking a bit weird.”
Clara gulped in air. Glancing out the window, she could see Ana Jordan, the owner of the stationer’s next door, glaring at the bookstore, her short, chubby body still in fighting mode with feet planted apart and hands on her hips. The furious woman threw her hands in the air, then ran them through her cropped bleached hair before turning and stomping back to her store.
“I’m fine.” Clara gestured at the window. “I thought I heard someone yelling.”
“You did.” The redhead held out her hand. “I’m Molly Owens, Steph’s assistant. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All of it disgusting, I suppose.” Clara shook the firm fingers.
Molly grinned. “Let’s just say you two must have had a dynamite childhood.”
Clara gave her cousin a sharp glance. Stephanie had promised long ago not to tell anyone, including their own family, that her cousin had the gift. She was reassured by Stephanie’s firm shake of her head and answered Molly with a smile. “You’ve got that right.”
“Well, Steph told me you’ll be working here.” Molly tilted her head to one side, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. “I have to say, it’ll be fab to have someone here tall enough to reach the top shelves.”
Stephanie laughed and walked over to the counter. “Just don’t ask her how tall she is. The kids in high school drove her nuts with that question.”
“Oh, bummer.” Molly paused. “So, how tall are you, then?”
“Tall enough to thump you on the head if you ask that question again.” Clara glanced at the window again. “So what was all the shouting about out there?”
“Oh, that was me.” Molly sighed. “I was screaming at that old bat next door. I tell you, that woman is nuts. You know her, don’t you?”
“Of course I know her.” Clara rolled her eyes at Stephanie. “Most of these shops have changed hands so often I don’t know anyone anymore, but Jordan’s has been here since we were kids. Is Ana still causing trouble for everyone?”
Stephanie shrugged. “Nothing we can’t handle.”
Molly made a guttural sound of disgust. “That woman should be run out of town. She hates Steph, she hates the bookstore, she hates the fact that we’re successful and she’d do anything to shut us down.”
Clara stared at her cousin. “Really? What’s her problem?”
“She says I’m poisoning young minds with my occult books and turning our children into demons.”
“Whoa, heavy stuff.” Clara nodded at the nearest table. “Those don’t look like occult books.”
“They’re not!” Molly’s cheeks turned red again as she gestured at the tables. “Look at the titles. They’re books the high school asked us to carry, and what about those?” She pointed to several rows of colorful hardbacks. “Craft books and cookbooks. There’s lots of choices, and it’s not like we’re forcing people to buy the occult stuff.”
“There’s a lot of interest in it right now, though,” Stephanie put in. “I’m not endangering anyone—I’m just supplying what the public wants.”
“Yeah, well, Ana doesn’t think you have any right to do that.” Molly jerked her hand at the window again. “She keeps putting up signs advertising Big Books, that new chain bookstore that opened up last year. She’s doing her best to put us out of business. I saw the poster and tore it down, and of course, she saw me do it. She came screaming out of the store, and she’s like, ‘I’ll have you arrested!’ and I’m like, ‘Just try it, you old witch, and I’ll burn your broomstick and you along with it.’”
“I told you just to ignore her.” Stephanie picked up a pile of books and hurried over to one of the tables.
“If you ignore her, she’ll get what she wants and shut you down. You have to do something about that woman.” Molly turned to Clara, green eyes pleading. “You tell her.”
“She has a point,” Clara said mildly.
“I know what I’d like to do,” Stephanie muttered, “but I can’t afford any trouble. Not today.” She carefully stood an opened book on top of the pile. “We have teenagers coming into this store today for our back-to-school sale. The last thing I need is a screaming match with Ana Jordan.”
Molly muttered something under her breath. “If you won’t do anything, then I will. I love this job, and I’m not going to let a miserable old hag take it away from me.”
“Well, I appreciate you coming in early to help.” Stephanie hurried back to the counter for more books. “I’m going to need more boxes from the stockroom. I’m counting on this sale to buy school clothes for my children.”
Molly sighed. “I’m going. But don’t think I’m going to forget about it. Ana Jordan has a nasty shock coming her way, sooner or later.”
She rushed off toward the back of the store, leaving Stephanie to stare after her with a worried frown. “That girl is a good worker, but she’s got a temper that would curl the devil’s toes.”
Clara laughed. “I seem to have heard that somewhere before.”
“You know as well as I do that I’ve gotten a lot better at controlling my temper.” Stephanie carried more books over to the table. “Though my kids do know not to push me too far.”
“I bet they do. Well, I’d better get over to the rental agency.” Clara headed for the door. “They’ve probably rented that apartment by now.”
“You don’t like living with Aunt Jessie?”
Clara hesitated. “It’s okay, I guess. It’s just that I’m used to living on my own. So is my mother. She’s gotten a lot more independent since Dad died.”
“I know. It’s sad. They were so happy together. I miss Uncle David and his silly jokes.”
“We all miss him.” Clara pulled the door open, jingling the bell and letting in the warm sunshine.
“Clara? Did anything . . . weird happen in the stockroom?”
Clara paused, one hand on the door handle. “Weird?”
“You know. Weird.” Stephanie looked uncomfortable. “You had that odd look on your face you always used to get when—”
“Nothing happened.” Clara made an effort to soften her tone. “Good luck with the sale. I’ll see you in the morning.” She didn’t wait for an answer.
Once outside, she pulled in a deep breath of the fresh, salty air. Main Street stretched ahead of her for several blocks, sloping down toward the harbor.
In summertime, the town was always crowded with tourists, and today was no exception. On either side, people strolled al
ong in front of the quaint shop windows, peering under the colorful striped awnings at souvenirs, antiques, artwork and beach supplies.
At the bottom of the hill, boats bobbed around in the bay, their white sails gleaming in the sun, while behind them a thin line of fluffy white clouds separated the pale blue sky from the deeper blue of the ocean.
Clara’s heart warmed at the sight. This was what she’d missed so much—this little town with its friendly people; its unique little shops and charming, narrow streets; the bustling activity of the picturesque bay. Here she could find peace and put all the problems of New York behind her. This was Finn’s Harbor, Maine, and this was where she belonged.
Glancing across the street, she saw a man standing in front of the hardware store, one hand shading his face as he gazed at something farther down the street.
He didn’t seem to be a tourist, and Clara stared hard for a long moment, trying to recognize the rugged features that were half hidden behind his hand.
Deciding that she didn’t know him, she was about to turn away when he twisted his head in her direction. He apparently realized she’d been staring at him, as he touched his fingers to his forehead in a mock salute.
Embarrassed, she ducked her head and took off down the hill. Things had changed a lot since she’d left, twelve years ago. People had gone, and others moved in, and although she’d come back to visit several times every year, it wasn’t the same as living there. She felt like a stranger now in her own hometown.
She wondered if the man across the street was a stranger or if he had lived there long enough to become a familiar member of the community. Then, wondering why on earth she was still thinking about him, she headed for the rental agency.
The following morning, Clara arrived on the doorstep of the Raven’s Nest just as Stephanie was opening up the store. “I couldn’t sleep,” she explained, in answer to her cousin’s raised eyebrows. “I thought I might as well come down early and give you a hand.”
“Well, good. That will give me time to show you the ropes.” Stephanie walked in ahead of her. “It will be a long day, though, and you’ll probably regret coming in early by the time it’s over. Molly won’t be here for another hour. She stayed late last night to clean up, and I told her to sleep in. As you can see,” she said, and flapped her hand at the neat tables, “she did a great job.”
Trouble Vision Page 21
