Mind Over Murder

by Allison Kingsley

  Clara raised her eyebrows. “Who?”

  “That Prince woman.” He jerked his head at Jordan’s. “I call her the Black Widow. I swear she’s capable of devouring a man whole.”

  He actually sounded sincere. Could it be that, after all, Roberta’s comments about her relationship with him were nothing more than wishful thinking? If so, knowing how much Roberta wanted more, Clara could afford to feel sorry for her. “She can’t be that bad.”

  “Well, she is.” His brows drew together as he stared across the street. “I think she’s after my store.”

  “I think it’s more likely she’s after your body.”

  The gleam in his eyes when he looked at her unsettled her. “Well, if she is, she’s going about it all wrong.”

  She remembered what Roberta had said about marrying him. It seemed the lady was doomed to disappointment on that score. Her delight at the thought was so disturbing she cut off Rick’s next words with a hasty, “Gotta go! See you later.”

  Not that Rick’s relationship with Roberta was any of her business, of course.

  Even so, her steps were considerably lighter as she hurried back to the bookstore.

  “I saw you talking to Rick,” Stephanie said, the minute Clara got inside the door. “Did you ask him for a date?”

  “Why would she ask Rick for a date?” Molly asked, appearing from behind a bookshelf. She looked at Clara with great interest. “Do you like him?”

  “No! Yes! No . . . Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Clara headed for the Nook, calling over her shoulder, “I’m going to take a pill.”

  “You should go home,” Stephanie called out after her.

  Ignoring her, Clara turned the corner and found the Nook empty of customers, except for Frannie, who sat in one of the armchairs. She had a book on her lap and was munching on a ham roll, with a can of soda on the table next to her.

  She looked up when Clara came in and smiled at her. “Head still hurting?”

  Clara nodded, then wished she hadn’t, as once more pain sliced through her forehead. “I’m going to take something for it,” she said, and reached for a paper cup next to the water cooler.

  “Good idea.” Frannie held up her book. “I’ve just finished reading Wayne Lester’s book. It’s wonderful. Would you like to read it?”

  She held it out, and Clara took it from her. “It does look real interesting, but right now I’ve got so many books on my TBR list, it would be months before I could get to this.” She handed the book back to her and filled the cup with water.

  “So, what pills did the doctor give you?” Frannie asked, a loud pop accompanying her words as she snapped open the soda.

  Clara squinted at the label. “Vicodin. These things are pretty powerful, and they make you drowsy. I think I’ll only take a half.”

  “Good idea.” Frannie took a sip of her soda then added, “How are you getting to work without a car?”

  “I took the bus this morning.” Clara snapped a pill in half and dropped one half back into the bottle. “I’ll see about renting a car later.”

  “I’ve got one you can use.” Frannie wrapped up what was left of her roll and put it back into a paper bag. “I use my bike most of the time, and my car really needs to be out on the road. The battery runs down if it’s sitting too long in the parking lot. Could clog the fuel system, too. You’d actually be doing me a favor by running it.”

  Surprised by the offer, Clara hesitated.

  “It’s not a fancy car,” Frannie said, getting to her feet, “but it will get you back and forth until you can get another one.”

  Catching the defensive tone in her voice, Clara realized a refusal would probably offend the woman. “That’s so very nice of you!” She thought about hugging her, then decided against it. Frannie was not the hugging type. “I’ll take really good care of it.”

  Frannie smiled, her eyes lighting up as if she’d been given a surprise gift. “Great then.” She walked over to the cooler and dropped her soda can into the trash bin. “I can go home and get it tonight and bring it back for you. Then you can give me a ride home.”

  Clara thanked her again, genuinely touched by the generous offer. It seemed there was a lot more to Frannie than she’d first thought.

  She said as much to Stephanie after Frannie had gone back to Jordan’s. “She such a timid little woman, but she’s really good-hearted and pretty intelligent, too.”

  “She’s had a tough life.” Stephanie bagged a couple of books and handed the package across the counter to the waiting customer. “You know about her son, don’t you?”

  Clara shook her head. “I thought she wasn’t married.”

  “She isn’t anymore. She’s been divorced for several years now.”

  “So what about her son?”

  Clara never got her answer, as the two of them were too busy serving the customers at the counter. Stephanie rang for Molly to join them, and Clara couldn’t help noticing the change in the people waiting to be served the minute Molly stepped behind the counter.

  More than a week after the murder and they still suspected her of killing Ana. Clara watched the young woman as she made the transactions at the register, seemingly unaffected by the frosty atmosphere surrounding her. Clara wasn’t fooled for an instant.

  Molly was hurting, and doing her best to hide it.

  It reminded her that she hadn’t yet taken Molly to task about her taking the day off and lying to Stephanie. As soon as things quieted down, she decided, she’d tackle the subject.

  John Halloran ambled into the store around two and disappeared into the Nook, much to Clara’s relief. She managed to avoid him when he returned to the counter with a book in hand, leaving Molly to wait on him.

  Meanwhile, Stephanie kept glancing at the clock and finally told them, “I have to go and pick up my kids. Their friend’s birthday party should be over by now.” She looked at Molly. “If things are still busy at four o’clock, would you stay on for a while to help Clara? I don’t think she should be here alone if it’s busy.”

  “For heaven’s sake.” Clara smiled at her cousin. “Stop mothering me. I have enough of that from my real mother. I’ll be just fine. It always eases up by late afternoon, anyway, and I’ll sit in the Nook between customers.”

  Stephanie frowned, obviously reluctant to leave. “All right. But call me the second you feel you need help, all right?”

  “I promise. Now go.” Clara turned back to assist another customer, and after a moment or two of hovering, Stephanie left.

  By three-thirty, the store was empty again, and Clara joined Molly in the Nook for a cup of coffee. Clara waited until they were both seated on the couch before casually saying, “John Halloran was in a couple of days ago. He said he saw you riding down the coast road on the back of your boyfriend’s motorbike.”

  Molly’s cheeks turned pink. “Er . . . yes. I wasn’t feeling well, so he took me for a breath of fresh air. He thought it would help me feel better.”

  Clara studied her face. “And did it?”

  “Oh, yeah. It’s amazing how a ride along the coast road on a motorbike can blow the bugs out of your head.”

  “Really.” She’s lying.

  Molly slid her gaze away and picked up her coffee. “We were busy today. That’s good. How are you feeling, anyway?”

  “I’m okay.” Clara paused, then added, “I’m worried about you, though.”

  Molly shot her a nervous glance. “Me? Why me?”

  “If you keep making up stories like this, you’re going to end up in real trouble some day.”

  The pink in Molly’s cheeks turned red. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Yes, you do.” Clara picked up her coffee. “You called in sick on Wednesday so you could go for a joyride with your boyfriend.”

  Eyes sparkling with resentment, Molly stood up. “So what if I did? Just about everybody does that at some time or other. It’s not a crime!”

  “No, it isn’t.” Clara put down her c
up. “Look, Molly, all I’m saying is that when you get caught out in a lie it makes people wary of trusting you, and right now, can you really afford to do that?”

  For a moment or two Molly looked as if she might explode; then, suddenly, all the fight went out of her, and she let out her breath on a sigh. “No, I guess not. Sorry.”

  “You don’t have to apologize to me. You let Stephanie down, though, and I suggest that next time you want a day off, just ask her. I’m sure she’ll work something out for you.”

  “Okay. You’re right.” Molly looked at the clock and sat down again. “Seriously, though, how’s the headache?”

  Clara smiled. “It’s still there. In fact, I think I’ll take the other half of my pill.” She patted her pants pocket and frowned. “I must have left them on the table.” She got up and walked over to the cooler, letting out her breath in relief when she saw the bottle lying on the table.

  She opened it and shook out the white tablets into her hand.

  Just then the doorbell rang, announcing a customer.

  “I’ll go.” Molly jumped to her feet and vanished around the corner.

  Clara heard voices and realized there was more than one person out there with Molly. She couldn’t see the half tablet, so she quickly broke another one in half and swallowed it down. Shoving the bottle into her pocket, she hurried out to help Molly.

  Things slowed down considerably after the three customers left, and Clara insisted Molly leave at four, the end of her shift.

  Time dragged after that, and she passed the hours straightening up the magazine racks and restocking the shelves.

  By six o’clock her head was hurting again, but she was reluctant to take another pill until she could go to bed and sleep it off.

  If she was going to drive Frannie’s car home, she didn’t need to be any more drowsy than she was already. In fact, she couldn’t wait to go home and crawl into bed.

  Her knees and back ached, and there was something wrong with her wrist. It felt weak and hurt every time she tried to lift anything. Glancing at the clock, she wondered how long it would take Frannie to ride home and get the car.

  What if she couldn’t get it started? What if the battery had died from sitting too long in the parking lot?

  She thought about calling for a cab, but then if Frannie came back for her she’d have a wasted journey, and without knowing Frannie’s phone number, there was no way to get in touch with her.

  She decided to wait outside for her. The fresh air would revive her somewhat, and she would be ready to go when Frannie got there.

  After turning out the lights and locking up, she stepped out into the street. Clouds had blown in from the ocean, and she felt a sprinkle of rain on her face as she peered down the hill, hoping to see the lights of Frannie’s car.

  “Need a ride?”

  He’d come up behind her, so quietly she had no idea he was there until he’d spoken.

  She swung around, her heart bumping as she came face-to-face with John Halloran. She glanced across the street. Lights still blazed in the windows of Parson’s Hardware. That meant Rick was still there. All she had to do was cross the street.

  Before she could move, John laid a firm hand on her arm. “You don’t look well. Let me help you down to my car, and I’ll take you home.”

  “No!” Realizing she’d raised her voice, she made an effort to lower it. “Thank you, but I’m waiting for a ride.”

  John had dropped his hand the second she’d yelled at him. “Ah, yes. Well, then. I just thought . . .”

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw the lights go out in the hardware store. “It’s very kind of you,” she said firmly, “but Frannie will be here any minute to pick me up.”

  John jerked his head in surprise. “Frannie? Oh, I thought—”

  At that moment Rick stepped out into the street. Catching sight of them, he waved, and she waved back, beckoning him to join them. He held up his hand in acknowledgment, then stooped to lock the door.

  “Well, then, I’ll be off,” John Halloran said, and calling out good-night to Rick, he shuffled off down the hill.

  Clara watched him go, wondering exactly what it was he’d thought. She didn’t have time to dwell on it, however, as Rick was striding across the street toward her.

  “How’s the headache?” he called out before he reached her. “You took off so fast this afternoon, I didn’t get a chance to ask you.”

  “Oh, it’s okay. I’m taking pills for it.” She fished the bottle out of her pocket to show him.

  He took them from her and peered at them in the light from the streetlamp. “Vicodin! Good stuff. But be careful. They can make you fall asleep standing up if you take too many.”

  “I’m taking halves right now, so I should be okay.”

  “Good.” He paused, then moved a little closer. “So, was there something you wanted?”

  His face was in shadow now, and she couldn’t quite tell his expression. “Ah . . .” She had no idea why she’d signaled to him like that. Maybe she just didn’t want to be alone on the street with creepy John. That would sound weird if she said that, though. Especially since he was apparently Rick’s trusted employee.

  “You forgot, right?” Rick bent his neck to look into her face. “That happens sometimes with concussion. Maybe you’d better get checked out at the hospital.”

  “No, no, it’s okay.”

  “Well, in any case, I’ll walk you to the bus stop. Or did you call a cab?”

  “Neither. Frannie’s on her way to pick me up.”

  “Frannie? I didn’t know she had a car. She always rides a bike to work.”

  “I don’t think she uses it much.” She looked down the hill and saw the lights of a car coming up. Praying it was Frannie, she said lightly, “I was just going to ask you . . . ah . . . if you knew of a good place to rent a car.”

  “Ah.” He seemed disappointed as he straightened. “Well, there’s the rental agency at the bottom of the hill, but I’ve never rented a car so I don’t know if—” He broke off as the approaching black sedan screeched to a halt across the street.

  Frannie rolled down the window and waved. “Sorry it took me so long. I had trouble getting it started.”

  Clara waved back. “I’d better go,” she said, edging away. “Thanks, anyway.”

  Looking somewhat puzzled, Rick nodded. “Sure. Any time. Oh, wait! Here’s your pills. You’ll be needing them tonight.”

  She thanked him again and left him standing on the curb as she scrambled into Frannie’s car.

  All the way down the hill Frannie apologized for the condition of the car. “It’s old, and it’s been sitting around a lot,” she said, as she deftly turned the corner at the bottom of the hill. “At least the brakes work.”

  She said it just as they passed the vacant lot, and Clara shivered.

  “I’m sorry,” Frannie said, sounding upset. “I shouldn’t have said that. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “No, it’s fine.” She tossed around for something to change the subject and seized on the only thing that came to mind. “Stephanie mentioned that you have a son. How old is he?”

  It was a dark stretch of road, and she couldn’t see Frannie’s face, but she knew by the sudden tense silence that she’d mentioned a touchy subject. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, “I—”

  “It’s all right.” Frannie’s voice sounded surprisingly harsh. “Kevin is twenty-three. I don’t see much of him now.”

  “He doesn’t come and visit?”

  “No one visits me anymore. Sometimes I feel as if I’m floating in a tiny boat all alone on an endless ocean.”

  Guessing that Frannie and her son were estranged, Clara was relieved when Frannie pulled up in front of an apartment complex.

  “This is where I live,” Frannie said, her voice still sounding weird. “You can keep the car as long as you like. I hope it runs okay. It’s not all that reliable.” She opened the door and scrambled out.

  Worried
now that she’d upset the woman, Clara slid over into the driver’s seat. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean—”

  “I’m all right.” Frannie raised her hand in farewell and hurried across the parking lot to the building.

  Still feeling bad, Clara pulled out onto the street and headed for the corner. The sedan was a lot bigger than the compact she was used to, and it took her a few minutes to feel comfortable driving it.

  The steering wasn’t as positive. In fact, when she reached the corner, she had to give the wheel almost a full turn before the big car fully responded.

  Thankfully, nothing was coming in the opposite direction, and she steered the car into the lane, vowing to remember the sluggish response.

  Once home she called Stephanie, who answered with her usual out-of-breath “Hello?”

  “I forgot to ask you today,” Clara said, coming straight to the point, “what happened with Frannie and her son?”

  “Can this wait?” Stephanie paused, then yelled, “Michael! How many times do I have to tell you—no basketball in the house.”

  Clara heard the faint sound of a crash and a tinkling of glass, then her cousin’s voice again, “Michael! I knew it. Wonderful. I gotta go. See you tomorrow.” The line went dead, leaving Clara still without an answer.

  She laid the phone down on the dresser, and as she did so, the weird shivery feeling she knew so well crept over her.

  Find out. It’s important. You need to know.

  There was no doubt in her mind. The Quinn Sense was back, and she had better pay attention to it this time. For something told her that if she didn’t, she could very well live to regret it.

  13

  “So, what are you going to do about a car?” Jessie asked, leaning her elbows on the dining-room table. “How did you get home tonight, anyway?”

  Clara told her about Frannie’s offer. “She was so nice about it,” she added when she was finished. “She made it sound as if I was doing her a favor.”

  Jessie nodded. “Frannie’s like that. Always anxious to please. I think she craves attention and goes out of her way to be nice to people so they’ll like her.”