Escape Claws

by Linda Reilly

  “Seriously?” Sherry’s eyes widened. “I read somewhere that, technically, the cops can’t do that.”

  Lara shrugged. “I guess I’m a person of interest, as they say on TV. But, like I said, it was only a suggestion.” She said it with far more nonchalance than she felt. In reality, it was terrifying to be a suspect in a murder.

  If that’s what she was.

  “Ridiculous,” Sherry sputtered. “Never mind. Come back when you get a chance, okay? Even if it’s only for a few minutes.”

  Lara promised she’d do her best.

  Chapter 6

  Outside, the temperature had dropped by at least ten degrees. Lara glanced at her watch. Two minutes till noon. Almost five hours from when she’d first stumbled upon Barnes’s body.

  She’d just started the short trek back to her aunt’s when she noticed a woman coming toward her on the sidewalk. Fiftysomething, with blond hair melding into gray, the woman moved slowly, taking each step with care. Recognition clicked in Lara’s brain. This had to be Dora, the other woman in Brooke’s book club. Lara recalled her sitting at Brooke’s table the day before in the coffee shop.

  The woman stopped and stared unabashedly—through a pair of stylish lilac-tinted spectacles—at Lara. “You don’t remember me, do you?” she said.

  Lara smiled. “I think I do, from yesterday. You’re in the book club with Brooke, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t mean that,” the woman said sharply. “I mean, you don’t remember me from before, from when you were a girl. I’m Dora Pingaree, an old friend of Fran’s.”

  Lara gave her what she hoped was a contrite look. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t remember that far back. Until yesterday, in fact, I hadn’t seen my aunt in a number of years.” The admission made her feel like the worst niece on the planet. “But it’s lovely to meet you, Dora.”

  Dora nodded. “I remember you from when you were a girl. Such a darling thing you were—all those plush red curls. How Fran adored you.”

  Adored—past tense. Is that intentional? Lara wondered. Either way, she decided she liked Dora. Something about the woman seemed genuine, even if she was a bit blunt.

  “Well, thank you,” Lara said.

  In the next instant, Dora’s face drooped. “I’m awfully sad about Theo Barnes. I suppose you heard all about what happened.”

  More than you know, Lara was tempted to say. She wondered if Dora was testing her, trying to entice her into admitting she’d been the one to find Theo’s body.

  “Yes, it was a terrible thing, wasn’t it,” Lara said quietly.

  “The police will have their work cut out. Theo had enemies, you know. Lots of them.” She stared over Lara’s shoulder, as if she were seeing the enemies lined up and waiting for interrogation.

  “I’m sure they’ll find the killer soon,” Lara offered. “Well, listen, it was nice chatting with you, Dora. I really need to get back to my aunt’s to see if she needs any help. She’ll probably have a grocery list a mile long ready and waiting for me. Before I leave town, I want to be sure she’s stocked up on supplies.”

  Dora snapped her attention back to Lara. “One of those fancy new supermarkets opened up just outside of Whisker Jog, but you can get the same things right here in town at the Shop-Along. Prices aren’t bad, either. Fran usually does her shopping there.” She gave Lara directions.

  Lara thanked her, eager, now, to get away. She had the feeling that, if given the chance, Dora would chat for another hour.

  Dora grimaced, and with one fist she rubbed her lower back.

  “Are you okay?” Lara asked her.

  “I wear a back brace,” Dora explained. “It’s very restricting. But if I don’t wear it, the pain gets unbearable.”

  Poor woman, Lara thought. “I’m sorry to hear that. If there’s anything I can do—”

  Dora waved a hand at her. “Oh no, I’ll be fine, dear. I’m used to it. We all have our crosses to bear, don’t we?”

  Lara smiled at the cliché, but she had to admire Dora’s pluckiness. “I guess we do.”

  After saying a final good-bye to Dora, Lara walked briskly back to her aunt’s, the fresh chill in the air biting her cheeks. Even from the road, she could see the yellow crime scene tape. Two police cars remained in the driveway, but they’d pulled off to the side to avoid blocking Lara’s car.

  And whoever the killer was, he—or she—was still out there.

  Lara was surprised to find her aunt at the kitchen sink, her hands buried in a pan of sudsy water. Dolce lay curled at her feet, his nose resting on the shoelaces of her blue sneakers.

  “What’cha doing?” Lara asked, skimming her gaze over the freshly washed cat bowls in the dish drainer. Dolce blinked up at her, and Lara bent and gathered the cat into her arms. “You have to be careful around people’s feet,” she told the cat, and then plunked a kiss on his head. “You don’t want to get accidentally smooshed.”

  Aunt Fran rinsed her hands, then turned and smiled at Lara. “Don’t worry, I’m always aware of him. I was just cleaning up some of the bowls. You did such a good job yesterday that I wanted to keep up the tradition.” She pulled a clean dish towel out of a nearby drawer.

  “Can I take over for you?” Lara asked her.

  “I can finish later,” Aunt Fran said, drying her hands. “There are only a few left. Let’s sit for a moment, shall we?”

  Lara didn’t press the point. She sensed her aunt was trying to show that she wasn’t totally helpless, that she didn’t always need rescuing.

  In truth, the hint of pink in Aunt Fran’s prominent cheekbones was a huge improvement over the pallor of earlier that morning. Her green eyes had a touch of their old sparkle. Even her smile seemed more natural.

  All of which was strange, considering the circumstances. Was Theo’s death the reason for the sudden improvement in Aunt Fran’s appearance? Or had Lara’s unannounced arrival the day before made the difference in her demeanor? Lara hoped it was the latter.

  Aunt Fran retrieved her cane from the corner of the counter where she’d propped it. Lara couldn’t help shooting a glance at the prongs. All four looked clean, without a trace of dirt.

  At the kitchen table, Aunt Fran eased herself into a chair. Lara sat facing her, Dolce parked on her lap.

  “The police are leaving us alone, for the time being,” Aunt Fran said. “The crime scene van left, but they’ll be back. They’ve cordoned off the vacant field and the town park. I told the chief I’d call the station if we spotted any nosy-posies hanging around in the area.”

  Lara nodded. People could be so ghoulish. “Aunt Fran, do you think the killer could’ve met up with Theo near the bench at the back of the park?”

  “That’s my guess. The police haven’t exactly shared their theories with me. But if someone wanted to have a late night secret meeting, that would be the perfect place.”

  “Yeah,” Lara said. She thought about the voices she’d heard after she’d gotten into bed the night before. “It’s not as if Theo would have been wandering around the park at midnight just to see the sights. He must have been meeting someone there.”

  Aunt Fran frowned and looked away. She reached out toward Dolce, who was more than happy to abandon Lara’s lap and climb into hers.

  She needs Dolce for moral support, Lara thought. Is she hiding something? Why had she gone outside so late?

  “Chief Whitley asked me if I touched the murder weapon. Aunt Fran, I never even saw a murder weapon! For all I know, someone hit Theo with a rock and then tossed it into the field to get rid of it.”

  “I only hope they find the killer soon.” Aunt Fran looked at the wall clock above the sink. “How about a bite of lunch, Lara? I have some cold cuts in the fridge. Did you eat much at the café?”

  “Not really.” Lara filled her in on her encounter with the Newmans—topping it with the appearance of Theo’s ex, Josette, and her elation at the news of his untimely demise. She also told her about running into Dora.

  “Don�
�t take Josette too seriously,” Aunt Fran said. “She has a penchant for drama, but she’s actually a kind soul. I think years of living with that buffoon, Lord rest his soul, did a number on her.”

  A rumble of hunger roiled through Lara’s stomach. Until now, food had been a turnoff, the image of Theo’s bloodied head still encroaching into her thoughts. But several hours had passed since she’d found the body, and her own body was reminding her that she needed to eat.

  Lara threw together two ham-and-cheese sandwiches and made two cups of tea. She wolfed down her own lunch, while Aunt Fran ate hers slowly and deliberately.

  “Aunt Fran,” Lara said, after stuffing in the last bite, “I was thinking that you might need some supplies—food, cat stuff, things like that. Can I make a trip to the market for you? Dora told me you buy your groceries at the Shop-Along.”

  An amused smile formed on Aunt Fran’s lips. “Leave it to Dora. She notices things most people wouldn’t. But actually, that would be wonderful. The last time I had delivery from them, I’d told the clerk I wanted a package of Dove bars. Instead of the chocolate bars I’d been craving, I got two bars of heavenly smelling Dove soap.”

  Lara laughed. “Easy mistake, I guess. But I promise to get exactly what you want.”

  The two prepared a list, and Lara hopped into her rental car. The state police vehicles were still in the driveway, but no one even glanced in her direction as she eased her rental sedan out onto High Cliff Road.

  The Shop-Along was only a two-mile drive from her aunt’s. Snugged between a fenced-in day care center and a newish-looking dental practice, the parking lot in front of the squat yellow building was packed. Lara was happy to find a space near one of the carriage corrals.

  Next to the market’s wide glass entrance was a large wooden crate packed with pumpkins. Lara couldn’t resist—she lifted a medium-sized one from the pile. Inside the store she grabbed a shopping cart and plopped in the pumpkin. It would set her back four dollars, but she thought about how cute it would look sitting on her aunt’s front steps. If she had time, she might even draw or carve a cat on it.

  Aunt Fran’s list consisted mostly of staples—sugar, milk, tea bags—along with a substantial amount of kitten and cat food. No surprise there. The aisles were neat and well organized, and within ten minutes she’d loaded everything she needed into her grocery cart.

  “Oh, wow, you must, like, really have a lot of cats!” said the checkout clerk, a young woman with roundish cheeks and a bright smile. “Do you run some kind of, like, shelter or something?”

  Lara smiled. “Not exactly. I’m just stocking up on supplies.”

  “Oh. Then you should be all set for the winter!”

  Not hardly, Lara thought. She thanked the friendly clerk and wheeled her cart out to her car. After loading her last bag into the backseat, she swung the cart into the nearest corral. She was climbing into her car when she spotted a white SUV parked nearby, its engine running. Mary Newman sat in the driver’s seat crying into a tissue. Even from where Lara was standing, she could see Mary’s shoulders heaving.

  Poor woman. Lara locked her car and went over to Mary’s. She tapped her knuckles against the driver’s-side window. Mary jumped, and after a slight hesitation, she powered down her window. “Hi,” she said, her face flushing.

  “Mary, are you okay? I thought you were going window-shopping with your aunt.”

  Mary shook her head and sniffled. “I feel awful about it, but I blew her off. I told her I was getting a bad headache. Actually, that much was true. The thing is, Aunt Josette loves to shop and I…I—” She let out a strangled sob and wept into her tissue.

  Lara waited for a moment and then said, “Mary, let’s talk, okay? Do you mind if I hop into your front seat?”

  Mary nodded, which Lara took as assent. She scurried around to the other side of the SUV and opened the door, stopping short when she saw a pile of magazines stacked on the passenger seat.

  Mary gave a sudden start. “Oh, God. Wait a second. Let me get all this junk out of your way.” She grabbed the magazines with both hands and tossed them onto the backseat. They landed with such force that a few of them slid to the floor. Lara managed to snare a glimpse of one, and had to stifle a gasp at the title—Confessions in Lace. The glossy cover depicted a young woman smiling coquettishly over one bare shoulder, her dress a silky affair that barely covered the essentials.

  Lara couldn’t help feeling embarrassed for Mary, who was having trouble making eye contact. She gave her what she hoped was an empathetic smile. “Mary, is there anything I can do to help? Your uncle’s death must have been a terrible blow.”

  Tears leaked from beneath Mary’s lids. “It was. What makes me sad is that so many people disliked him. I’ll be amazed if anyone even goes to his funeral. I know some people thought he was ruthless in his business dealings, and I guess he could be, but…but to me he was always wonderful.”

  “You were his niece, Mary,” Lara said gently. “I’m sure he loved you very much.”

  “He did. It’s just—” She looked off to her left, as if remembering something painful. “I’m afraid the police will be looking at the wrong people, you know?” she said in a shaky voice.

  The wrong people? Like maybe his ex-wife, Josette?

  “Are you thinking of your aunt?” Lara asked, as tactfully as she could. She didn’t want to accuse anyone, but Josette hadn’t exactly disguised her delight over her ex’s earthly departure.

  Mary looked at her in horror. “Aunt Josette? Heavens, no! She wouldn’t swat a mosquito. Besides, she was in Connecticut last night with a new beau. Someone she met online. She only drove back to New Hampshire this morning.”

  Taken aback by Mary’s defensive tone, Lara was quiet for a moment. She sensed Mary knew more than she was saying. She might even know something that could point to her uncle’s killer. If only Lara could persuade Mary to open up to her.

  “I’m sorry,” Mary said, her cheeks flaming. She gave Lara a wobbly smile. “I didn’t mean to sound so witchy.”

  “You didn’t,” Lara assured her. “I understand how bummed you are over all this. It’s a lot to absorb.”

  Squirming in her seat, Mary glanced at her car’s digital clock. “It’s twenty to two. I have to go now. My shift at the crafts store starts at two.”

  That was another strange thing. Why hadn’t Mary asked for time off? Surely she had good reason. Lara couldn’t imagine any employer faulting her for taking off a few days after a close family member was murdered.

  She decided not to press it. Mary obviously had her reasons. Lara opened her door. “I won’t keep you any longer, Mary. But if you ever want to talk—about anything—I’m a pretty good listener.”

  Mary swallowed hard. “It’s just that Chris—” She shook her head. “Never mind. I can’t talk about it now. Thank you for being so kind, Lara.”

  On impulse, Lara leaned over and gave Mary a hug. Then she got out of the SUV and closed the door, her gaze skittering to the stack of mags on Mary’s backseat. Confessions in Lace. Lara made a mental note to Google it later.

  Lara waved as Mary pulled out of her parking space, but Mary didn’t seem to notice. The SUV zipped off quickly toward the exit, then zoomed away down the main drag. Lara started to head back to her car when she spotted a slip of paper on the ground, almost under the tip of her boot. Had it been there when she’d climbed into the SUV? She didn’t think so.

  She stooped to inspect it. The paper was somewhat flimsy, as if it had been torn from a napkin. On it, the words MIDNIGHT MARY had been printed in pencil in bold letters. Before a breeze could whisk it away, Lara picked it up and slipped it into her jacket pocket.

  Lara got into her car and started the engine. Right before Mary left she’d started to say something about Chris. If only they could have talked longer, Mary might have confided in her.

  Chapter 7

  Bowker’s Coffee Stop was quiet by the time Lara returned. The moment she opened the glass door,
her senses were treated to the scrumptious aroma of warm vanilla and spices. Smiling, Lara inhaled deeply. Daisy must have prepared a fresh batch of sugar cookies. Lara couldn’t wait to see what today’s design would be.

  The hullabaloo of earlier in the day had settled into a pleasant hum. Customers chatted over coffee and dessert, some thumbing away at their smartphones. Sliding onto a stool at the counter, Lara was grateful she didn’t recognize any of the customers. She wanted a chance to dish privately with Sherry.

  A head graced with gelled black spikes popped up from behind the counter. “Hey, you made it back!” Sherry plunked a package of napkins on the counter and immediately poured Lara a steaming cup of coffee.

  “Ahh…thanks. That’s exactly what I need.” Lara emptied a packet of half-and-half into her mug and took a long swig. “It’s been a day, let me tell you.”

  Sherry gave her a worried frown. “Oh, Lara, I can’t believe this is all happening. I mean, why now, you know? You haven’t seen your aunt in, what, like, fifteen or sixteen years? And the day you show up, the town tyrant is murdered?” She shook her head, her raven-tinted spikes remaining firmly in place.

  “Uh, yeah, that didn’t sound too good,” Lara said wryly.

  “Lara, no one would seriously consider you a suspect. I mean, what would your motive even be?”

  Oh, how about Barnes’s ongoing clash with Aunt Fran over the land he was trying to force her to sell?

  “Although—” Sherry started to say when Daisy came through the swinging metal door holding a small tray of frosted black bats.

  “I had some dough left over from this morning,” Daisy announced. “I hated to see it go to waste, so I whipped these up.” She glanced at the wall clock. “I’m hoping I can unload them before closing time.”

  Lara’s gaze skimmed the cookies. “Seriously, those are too adorable to eat.”

  “Want one?” Daisy grinned.

  Lara snagged one off the tray. “Twisted my arm.” She bit into a bat’s wing and groaned. “Okay, this is ridiculous,” she mumbled over a mouthful of cookie. “How do you make cookies that taste like this?”