“Oh my!” she giggled.
“Hey, what’s that?” Parker asked suddenly as he looked over her shoulder.
She turned around and tried to spot what had captured Parker’s attention. “What’s what?”
“That,” he said. He took a step forward and pointed to something lying on the ground at the perimeter of the parking lot. It was half-covered by sand, but the sunlight was gleaming off of the part that wasn’t concealed.
They walked over and Parker picked the object up. It was a gold, masculine-looking wristwatch. “I think I just found buried treasure!” he joked. He handed the watch over to Clarissa so she could get a better look at it.
“I – I’ve seen this before,” she said, biting her lower lip in contemplation. Then he eyes lit up. “I know where I’ve seen it! It’s Dave’s. It must have fallen off while he was carrying his supplies over to his truck.”
Parker turned and glanced toward the road leading away from the beach. Dave’s green pickup truck was still faintly visible in the distance as it sputtered along. “If we hurry, we might be able to catch up with him,” he suggested.
“You just want to drive your fancy rental car as much as possible,” Clarissa teased.
“You caught me,” Parker admitted with a sheepish grin.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Why not?
It beat being mugged by two thieving grannies who thought they were at a nude beach.
Chapter 17
“Hurry, we’re going to lose him!”
Clarissa was squirming impatiently in the passenger seat while Parker tried to navigate the car through traffic. She wasn’t sure where it had all come from. One moment they had been a comfortable distance behind Dave. Then next, they were stuck in a sudden traffic jam and he was almost out of sight.
“I can’t go anywhere. These idiots don’t know how to drive,” Parker replied in frustration. His hand lingered over the steering wheel as though he was contemplating honking the horn. Then politeness appeared to get the best of him. He sighed and shook his head. “I wonder what’s going on.”
“No idea,” Clarissa replied. She craned her neck and looked around. Then she spotted a sign at what appeared to be a local high school. “Oh! According to that sign, there’s a psychic doing readings in the high school gymnasium tonight,” she told him.
Parker scoffed. Behind them, car horns were honking impatiently.
Time seemed to stand still for Clarissa. She looked at her boyfriend hesitantly, as though she was afraid to meet his gaze. “What are you scoffing about?” she asked him, attempting to keep her tone light. She hoped he was just annoyed about the traffic.
“I think it’s a load of crap,” he shrugged as vehicles began to move again. “I mean, it’s not like anyone can actually see the future. So really, you’ve got some scam artist at the high school ripping off everyone in the community.”
“Ripping everyone off?”
“Yes. Everyone that’s too gullible to use common sense.”
Clarissa’s blood ran cold. Her Aunt Matilda had psychic abilities. She knew that for a fact. And her mother claimed to be able to read tea leaves. There was no way Constance would have said that if it wasn’t true.
“You seem pretty sure of yourself,” Clarissa remarked, struggling to stay calm.
“Well, yeah. All the paranormal mumbo-jumbo you hear about is great for entertainment value, I guess. But it’s the stuff of books and movies. It’s nothing more than that,” Parker said. Then he noticed the way Clarissa’s jaw was clenched. He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t believe in that stuff, do you?”
She hesitated. “I used to be a skeptic,” she replied.
“And now you’re not?” he pressed.
Clarissa bit her lower lip as she tried to come up with a good answer. Finally she said, “I think there are a lot of things in this world that can’t be explained. Science isn’t all knowing. It would be arrogant to think otherwise, wouldn’t it?”
A look of surprise came over Parker’s face. “Whoa,” he muttered under his breath.
“What?”
“What’s with you, Clarissa? I thought we were just having a conversation, but you seem awfully aggressive. What’s with the name-calling? Do you really think I’m arrogant just because I have faith in science?” he asked, sounding mildly offended.
“That depends,” she replied, feeling her temper flare. “Do you really think I’m gullible just because I like to keep an open mind? Because, I mean, if you want to talk about insulting, that’s a little insulting! Believing in the paranormal doesn’t make me an idiot.”
“I never said it did.”
“Well you did imply it makes me gullible!” she retorted.
Parker rolled his eyes. “You’re being oversensitive.”
“Well you’re being a jerk!”
“More name-calling,” Parker observed. “Nice.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the bickering couple. Once her blood stopped boiling, Clarissa snuck a sideways glance at Parker. He was staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched and his expression grim.
She felt a pang of guilt. Was she in the wrong? He had unknowingly touched a nerve with his offhand comments, but she could hardly hold that against him. After all, he had no idea she was a witch. Maybe her reaction to Parker’s remarks had been a bit much.
“Parker?” she asked tentatively as he carefully navigated the car through the traffic jam.
“Let’s just drop it, okay?” he suggested. “We’re on vacation. I don’t want to argue.”
“I don’t, either. I’m sorry for calling you names.”
“And I’m sorry for offending you. I honestly didn’t mean to.” Parker’s eyes were still on the road. “Isn’t that Dave’s truck over there?” he asked suddenly, pointing to an old pickup truck parked by a racetrack.
“Yes,” Clarissa nodded. She tilted her head to the side inquisitively. “I wonder what he’s doing at the racetrack. He told me he was on his way to another cleaning job.”
“Only one way to find out,” Parker replied. He pulled into the parking lot.
As they got out of the car and she got a good look at the packed bleachers, Clarissa let out a low whistle. The grandstand was full, and tons of people had brought their own lawn chairs to sit on. Others were standing, chatting animatedly as they waited for the races to start.
Clarissa realized she had been wrong. Clearly the traffic jam hadn’t been for the psychic giving readings in the high school gymnasium. It had been folks on their way to the races. Apparently they were A Very Big Deal.
Parker evidently was thinking the exact same thing. “Look at all the people here!”
“I know,” Clarissa agreed in amazement. “For a small town, this is pretty impressive. People must have come in from all over the state for this! How are we ever going to find Dave?”
“Uh, isn’t that him over there?” Parker asked, pointing straight ahead.
Clarissa squinted to get a better look. Then she gasped in surprise. It was indeed Dave Carey. He was standing at the ticket booth. Or rather, he was stomping around angrily, throwing a massive temper tantrum.
She hurried forward, hoping to overhear what was being said.
“Sir,” the woman at the ticket booth said firmly, “I need you to leave.”
“This is a free country and it’s my right to be here!” Dave roared. He was red-faced and panting. “How dare you tell me I’m banned from the premises? I can spend my money any way I darn well please!” he roared.
“Sir, the ban was put in effect for your own good.”
That seemed to set Dave off even more. “What right do you have to decide that? I’m an adult! I make my own decisions, you hear me? You have some nerve, thinking you can tell me what to do with my hard-earned money!”
“Sir, I don’t make the rules. I only enforce them. If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to have to call security,” the woman told him apologetically. She lowered he
r voice and added, “I see people are staring. Please just leave now, before you cause an even bigger scene.”
Dave huffed and puffed as everybody within earshot of the confrontation looked on. He paced and kicked at the dirt and muttered under his breath. His eyes were wild and his nostrils were flaring with anger. It seemed like at any moment, steam would come out of his ears.
Then he turned and stormed toward the parking lot, nearly knocking Clarissa over in the process.
She was so stunned that for a moment, all she could do was stand there and watch the enraged man stomp to his truck. Then she remembered she had his wristwatch in her pocket. She raced over to the truck in an effort to catch Dave before he left.
“Wait!” Clarissa called. “You lost your –”
“Look out!” Parker suddenly bellowed. He tackled Clarissa, pushing her out of the way only seconds before Dave’s truck flew into reverse. Its tires squealed obnoxiously as he peeled out of the parking lot in a cloud of black exhaust fumes.
Clarissa was flat on her back, the wind knocked out of her.
She stared up at the sky for what felt like ages, taking note of how blue it was.
Then Parker stepped into her line of vision. He looked down at her with concern. All Clarissa could think was that his eyes were even bluer than the sky. Then he extended a hand and pulled his dazed girlfriend to her feet.
Immediately, he wrapped his arms around her.
“Are you hurt?” he murmured, his words muffled by her hair.
“No. Dave would have backed right over me if you hadn’t pushed me out of the way. I’d be dead right now if it wasn’t for you,” Clarissa said. It was still sinking in. She could barely believe how close she had come to death.
Parker’s body stiffened and he became visibly angry. “Dave was driving like a maniac,” he growled. “I’m going to go down to his hardware shop and give him a piece of my mind. I’d report his terrible driving to the cops, but they seem useless here. Once I get through with him he’ll think twice before he –”
“Shh, it’s okay,” Clarissa murmured.
She completely understood why Parker was so upset. He was protective of her – and he was scared. She’d had a terrifying brush with death. It made total sense that he was livid over Dave’s careless, erratic driving.
But it felt so good to be in Parker’s arms that Clarissa didn’t want anything to ruin it. She squeezed him tighter. She didn’t care that they were standing in the middle of a parking lot full of people. She would have happily stayed there hugging her boyfriend forever.
“Let’s never argue about stupid stuff again,” she whispered into Parker’s shoulder.
“Deal,” he agreed, his lips brushing against her forehead as he kissed her.
Chapter 18
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” Parker asked a short time later as they sat parked outside Dave Carey’s hardware shop. “Maybe you should stay in the car. Let me handle this. I have a bad feeling.”
“I’ll be fine, I promise. And look at you – you’re still fuming. If you come in, you’ll just pick a fight. Stay here and I’ll be right back,” Clarissa said firmly.
Her words were stern and authoritative. They were brave and fearless. But as she climbed out of the car and walked up to the front door, Clarissa felt queasy. Though she didn’t want to admit it to Parker, she had a bad feeling.
She couldn’t quite pinpoint why, but Dave no longer struck her as an ally. He had been so open in the beginning, so willing to help her investigate Bobby’s death. But rightly or wrongly, Clarissa’s opinion of him had changed.
At first, Dave had seemed so forthcoming, so likable.
He had struck Clarissa as a good guy who was down on his luck.
But his ugly display at the racetrack had made it clear that he had his secrets, maybe a skeleton or two in his closet. For one thing, he was apparently a gambling addict. If he was banned from the racetrack, that must be the case. Plus he apparently had a nasty temper.
Maybe Dave wasn’t such a nice guy after all.
Clarissa walked up to the front door of the hardware store.
She gave the handle a tug, but nothing happened.
She tried a second time, but the door still didn’t open.
“Hmm, that’s strange,” she murmured to herself as she peered through the glass.
“Door’s locked?” a female voice asked from behind her.
Clarissa jumped. There was no reason to jump; she was simply feeling jumpy. Then she spun around to see a middle aged woman standing there. The woman had short dark hair and trendy cat-eye glasses that looked vaguely familiar. She was staring expectantly, waiting for an answer.
“Yes,” Clarissa confirmed. “The shop is closed. I guess something must have come up?”
“It’s no wonder Dave can’t make a go of it,” the woman said with a roll of her eyes. “He’s hardly ever here. What kind of shop owner doesn’t stay open during normal business hours? It’s bad practice.”
She turned to leave.
“Excuse me!” Clarissa called out suddenly as something clicked.
The woman stopped and turned around. “Yes?”
“I recognize you. You’re a nurse at the hospital, aren’t you?” Clarissa asked.
The woman nodded and then straightened the lightweight, chiffon scarf she had tied around her neck. “I’m Francine,” she said. She eyed Clarissa as though she couldn’t quite place her. Finally she just came right out and asked, “Were you one of my patients?”
“No, but I visited the hospital the other night,” Clarissa explained.
“Oh! You’re the woman with the service cat.”
“Er, yes,” Clarissa nodded. “I was the one with the, um, service cat.”
Francine looked around in confusion. “Where is your service cat?” she asked.
Crap. Clarissa hadn’t expected to have to elaborate on her little white lie.
“Um, it turns out I don’t need to take my service cat everywhere I go anymore,” Clarissa fibbed, thinking fast. “Doctors say it’s a medical miracle that I’ve made a full recovery from my, er…condition. Hooray!” she finished lamely, giving an awkward little clap.
Francine raised her eyebrow. “The doctors say you’re a medical miracle? Wow. That’s great news, though seems very unusual. If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly is your condition?”
“Huh?”
“What did you need the service cat for in the first place?”
Clarissa opened her mouth. Then she shut it again. She didn’t know how to respond.
Francine put her hands on her hips. “Let me guess: that wasn’t actually a service cat that you brought into the hospital the other night, was it? It was just an ordinary cat.”
“It’s no ordinary cat,” Clarissa replied honestly.
It was the truth. After all, Cat was the only feline she had ever met that could speak English. But she could hardly tell Francine that. If she did, she would probably be hauled off to the loony bin for evaluation.
“Look, it’s no big deal,” Francine said, her demeanor softening. “I know how important pets are to the sick and injured. You’d be surprised how often people sneak puppies and kittens in to visit patients.”
“Really?” Clarissa asked. She had been sure she was going to be told off.
“Oh yes,” Francine nodded. “And the animals bring so much comfort and peace to their owners. I should know; I have a six-year-old toy poodle that I love to death. Technically animals aren’t allowed in the hospital, but if it’s for a good reason then I’m willing to look the other way.”
Clarissa let out a sigh of relief.
“I should be going,” Francine said. “It looks like I’m going to have to drive all the way to the city to get paint for my kitchen. What a pain! That’s what I get for trying to support local businesses…and for trying to do home renovations on my day off.”
“Wait a sec!” Clarissa cleared her throat. “I need t
o ask you something.”
“What is it?”
“Did um…did you know Bobby Bates?”
Francine gave Clarissa a half-smile. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“Why do you say that?”
“If you were local, you’d know that everyone knows everyone,” Francine explained. “So to answer your question: yes. I knew Bobby. I didn’t know him well, but we were acquainted. Why do you ask?”
“I’m a reporter from Minnesota, and I’ve been looking into Bobby’s death,” Clarissa explained. “I’ve heard that the medication room at the hospital is kept under lock and key. I’ve also been told that head nurses are the only ones with access. Is that true?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Francine confirmed.
“For how long has that policy been in effect?”
“At least a year,” she replied.
“How long has the hospital had video surveillance set up outside the medication room?”
Francine gave Clarissa a curious look. “What is this about?”
Clarissa took a deep breath. “Is there any way someone could have gained access to the medication room?” she asked. “Maybe the key was left lying out, or someone asked a head nurse to do a favor?”
“No,” Francine replied. “The hospital has strict policies on that. I may be lax when it comes to letting furry critters cuddle their sick and injured humans, but messing around with medications is a serious offence. Why are you asking about it?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Clarissa admitted, “Sue Neilson’s name came up in the course of my investigation. She was the one who found Bobby’s body at the bingo hall. I was there too, and I considered some of her behavior to be suspicious.”
“Are you saying you think Sue killed Bobby?” Francine demanded.
“It had crossed my mind,” Clarissa confessed. “Sorry,” she added quickly. “I know she’s your colleague and probably your friend. I don’t mean to be offensive.”
“Sue isn’t my friend,” Francine replied. “Truthfully, we barely tolerate one another. It’s just petty work drama. We have different ways of doing our job, so sometimes we clash. But for what it’s worth, I don’t think Sue is a killer.”
The Name of the Game is Murder (A Clarissa Spencer Cozy Mystery Book 6) Page 10
