Mind Over Murder

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Mind Over Murder Page 2

by Allison Kingsley


  “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 along 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.”

  “She sure did.” Clara studied the stack of books on the table closest to her. “You should have called me. I could have helped. I wasn’t doing anything.”

  “Did you find an apartment?”

  “Nope. The one I saw was too small and didn’t have a dishwasher. I’ve got to have some place to hide my dirty dishes.”

  “You only saw one apartment?”

  Clara made a face. “This is Finn’s Harbor. There’s not a lot of rentals to choose from.”

  “Well, it’s not New York, I give you that.” Stephanie took a bunch of keys out of her purse and unlocked the cash register. “You’ll just have to be less fussy about where you live.”

  “After looking at what’s available out there, my mother’s house is beginning to look a lot more comfortable. Even with her in it.”

  Stephanie laughed. “You’ll be good for each other. Now come over here, and I’ll show you how to ring up purchases.”

  Clara did her best to remember everything, jotting down notes as Stephanie explained her duties. The next half hour passed quickly, and by the time they were done, Clara felt reasonably confident she could handle anything, barring an unforeseen emergency.

  “You can always call me if you’re in doubt,” Stephanie told her as she closed the file that held customers’ new-book reservations. “I can be down here in a few minutes if you need me.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Clara assured her. She looked around, smiling as her glance fell on Madame Sophia. “I think this will be fun.”

  “I hope so. I want you to enjoy working here; then, maybe you’ll stay.” Stephanie grinned. “Now, I need you to go to the stockroom. The copies of Wayne Lester’s new astrology book came in yesterday, and we need to get them out on the shelves. A lot of customers are waiting for that book.”

  At the mention of the stockroom, Clara felt a stab of uneasiness. She nodded, carefully keeping her expression blank.

  Her cousin, however, knew her too well. “What’s the matter?” Stephanie frowned. “Am I being too bossy?”

  That made Clara smile. “You’ve always been bossy, but it’s okay. You’re the boss. You’re entitled.” Before Stephanie could probe anymore, she took off down the aisle and headed for the stockroom.

  The disturbing sensation she’d felt the day before came back to haunt her as she opened the door. It didn’t mean anything, she assured herself. She had moments like that all the time. Most of the time they went away without her ever knowing what was behind them. This was just one of those times. Even so, she braced herself as she pushed open the door and flipped on the light.

  She had taken only two steps into the room when she saw the huddled figure on the floor. Shock slammed into her chest
, making it hard to breathe. She tried to shout for Stephanie, but no sound would come out of her mouth.

  She took a wobbly step or two forward and uttered a whimper of horror. The shattered pieces of Edgar Allan Poe’s bust were scattered on the floor. In the center of them, Ana Jordan lay face-up, a puddle of dark blood spreading out from under her head.

  2

  Less than ten minutes later, Finn’s Harbor’s police chief climbed out of his car in front of the Raven’s Nest. Clara recognized the stocky figure the moment she spotted him through the window.

  Standing next to her behind the counter, Stephanie uttered a faint moan. “What are we going to do? We’re supposed to open in half an hour.”

  “The customers will just have to wait until all this is over, that’s all.” Clara squeezed her cousin’s hand. It felt cold, and Stephanie’s face was drawn with shock.

  Clara wasn’t feeling so hot herself. Her stomach felt so messed up she was sure she’d never be able to eat with enjoyment again. The doorbell jangled, frying her already shattered nerves as the big man in uniform walked in.

  Chief Dan Petersen had the kind of round face that always seemed to be smiling, though his blue eyes were shrewd and piercing, and missed very little. He was a jovial man, but he kept a firm hand over the officers who worked under him, and Clara had always admired that.

  She didn’t know the young officer who followed the chief, but Stephanie murmured a greeting to him as they paused in front of the counter. “Hi, Dan; hello, Tim. This is so horrible. I can’t believe it.”

  Dan flicked a glance at Clara. “Guess you found the body, right?”

  Clara swallowed, shut the memory out of her mind and nodded.

  “Touch anything?”

  “No, sir. I took one look and got out of there.”

  Dan nudged the young man standing next to him. “Let’s take a look.”

  Clara watched them disappear down the aisle, shuddering as she envisioned the scene that awaited them. “Who do you think could have done such a thing?”

  Stephanie rubbed her shoulders as if she were cold. “I don’t know. Ana wasn’t well liked, and she was always causing trouble, but I don’t know anyone who would have wanted her dead.”

  “Well, apparently someone did. That bust didn’t just fall on her head. What was she doing in your stockroom, anyway?”

  “I don’t know. Molly made that bust. She’d left it in the stockroom to dry. We were going to put it in the window. She’ll be real upset that it’s broken.”

  “Not to mention that it killed your neighbor,” Clara said dryly.

  “Well, of course.” Stephanie opened the drawer beneath the counter and shut it again. “I didn’t mean . . .”

  “You didn’t mean what?”

  The gruff voice made them both jump. Clara gave the police chief a weak smile. He walked quietly for a big man. “She meant that Molly will be real upset about Ana.”

  The chief gave her a long look. “Where is Molly?”

  Stephanie glanced at the tall clock. “She should be here soon.”

  The screeching of tires outside made them all turn to the window. An ambulance had pulled up, and two men in white coats jumped out and opened the back doors. They pulled out a gurney and wheeled it across the sidewalk as Dan strode to the door and opened it.

  “Back room,” he said briefly, before they could speak. “Don’t touch anything until the doc gets here.”

  The two men nodded and wheeled the squeaky stretcher down the aisle to the stockroom.

  The door opened once more, and a breathless voice asked, “Who’s sick?” Molly bounded into the shop, purse slung over her shoulder, eyes wide and hair flying.

  Stephanie hurried out from behind the counter and took hold of Molly’s hand. “There’s been an accident,” she said quietly. “It’s Ana Jordan. Molly, I’m afraid she’s dead.”

  Molly’s eyebrows leapt up and down. “Dead?”

  “Dead,” echoed Dan, walking forward. “And it was no accident.”

  Molly stared at him. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s in the stockroom. Someone bashed her head in with a statue,” Dan said bluntly.

  Molly seemed unable to speak for a moment, her mouth opening and shutting as if gasping for air. Then she turned to Stephanie, her eyes wide and pleading. “Is it true? This isn’t a joke?”

  Stephanie sounded tearful when she answered. “It was your bust of Edgar, Molly. Someone used it to . . .” she choked, and put a hand over her mouth.

  Clara rushed over to her. “We’re all upset right now. Come and sit down until you feel better.”

  “I can’t sit down,” Stephanie wailed. “It’s Saturday. Everyone comes early on a Saturday. I have to open the store in fifteen minutes.”

  “Nobody’s coming in here until we’ve finished the investigation.” Dan walked over to the door and twisted the lock. “Now, everybody calm down. I need to ask you all some questions.” He turned to Clara. “You first. Tell me exactly what you saw when you went into the stockroom this morning.”

  Clara shakily described the scene as best she could, while behind her, Molly whispered something to Stephanie.

  The chief listened gravely; then, when she was done, he looked at her cousin. “Any idea why Ana was in your stockroom last night?”

  Stephanie shook her head. “I have absolutely no idea.” She turned to Molly. “Did you let Ana into the stockroom?”

  Molly’s eyes widened. “Of course not! I don’t know how she got in there.”

  Dan grunted something under his breath. “Well, there’s no sign of a break-in. The door was securely locked when you got here this morning?”

  Stephanie sounded hoarse when she answered. “Yes, I unlocked it myself.”

  “You locked up last night before you left?”

  “Molly did. I left around three yesterday afternoon.”

  The chief turned to Molly, who seemed to be having trouble looking him in the eye. “What about you? What time did you leave?”

  Molly started to speak, paused some more, then blurted out, “About eight-thirty or so. I wanted to leave the place tidy for when Steph came in this morning. So I cleaned up before I left.”

  “You locked both doors before you left?”

  “The back door is always kept locked unless we have a delivery.” Molly glanced at Stephanie. “I locked the front door when I left.”

  “Did Ana Jordan come in here last night?”

  “I didn’t see her.”

  “Did you see her at all yesterday?”

  Molly exchanged a quick look with Stephanie. “Er . . . yesterday,” she said at last. “I . . . er . . . spoke to her outside the shop.”

  “And you didn’t see her again before you left last night?”

  “No, I didn’t. That reminds me.” She opened her purse and took out a key. Handing it to Stephanie she said, “Now that I’m back on the morning shift, you’ll need this back.”

  Stephanie took the key and held it out to Clara. “You’ll need this to lock up at night. We really should get another one cut.”

  “If you don’t mind,” Dan said, “I’m not done asking Molly questions.”

  Molly looked guilty. “Oh, sorry.”

  “Where did you go when you left here?”

  Again she paused before answering. “Home, of course. I was starving.”

  Clara curled her fingers into her palms. The voice had come from nowhere, as it always did. Faint, like a whisper, and hard to understand. Before the words became clear, she deliberately shut the voice down in her mind, focusing instead on Dan’s next words.

  “Stephanie, you notice anything different when you came in this morning?”

  Stephanie shook her head. “No, nothing. In fact, Clara and I were saying how nice everything looked.” She glanced at Molly. “You did a great job of cleaning up.”

  “Can anyone—?” Dan broke off as a loud rattling of the door handle made them all turn their heads. He muttered
something and unlocked the door to reveal a fraillooking man with gray hair and glasses.

  Dr. Harold Weinberg had been the Quinn family’s doctor since before Clara was born, and now served as the medical examiner for the small town. He nodded at her as he stepped into the store. “Good to see you back in town, Clara. I heard it was for good this time.”

  “I hope so.” Clara caught Stephanie’s sharp look and smiled at her.

  “About time, Hal.” The chief clapped a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “They’re waiting for us back there.” He looked at all three women in turn. “Don’t anyone leave. I’m not done yet.” Giving the doctor a hefty nudge, he followed him down the aisle to the stockroom.

  Molly let out her breath in a rush of air. “What is it about talking to a policeman that always makes you feel guilty?” She uttered a shaky laugh. “I broke out in a sweat talking to Dan. Now I need to go home and take another shower.”

  “Well, you can’t leave yet.” Stephanie shot a nervous glance down the aisles. “Dan told us to stay here.”

  “I was kidding.” Sounding more like herself, Molly leaned across the counter and squeezed Stephanie’s hand. “Don’t worry, Steph. You had nothing to do with all this. The cops will find out who did it, and then it will be all over. Look on the bright side. You won’t have to worry about Ana Jordan anymore.”

  Stephanie gasped. “Molly! That’s a terrible thing to say! The poor woman is lying dead in our stockroom. How can you be so callous?”

  Molly shrugged. “I’m sorry she’s dead, but no one liked her. I don’t know anyone who’ll shed any tears over her, except maybe Frannie. I guess she’ll be out of a job now. Unless whoever takes over the store keeps her on.”

  “What I want to know,” Stephanie said, hugging herself again, “is why was Ana in our stockroom? How did she get in there? I have the only key to the back door, and there are only two keys to the front door. Mine and the one I gave you.”

 

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