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Authors: Allison Kingsley

Trouble Vision (13 page)

BOOK: Trouble Vision
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“Come by the house. Whatever time you can make it.”

“Okay. I’ll grab something quick to eat and I’ll be there around nine.”

“Sounds good.” From the front of the store came the sound of the door slamming shut. “Guess you’ve got a customer. I’ll see you tonight, then.”

She almost ran up the aisle, racing past Tyler who was on his way to the counter. Without stopping, she shot out the door and started down the hill. She’d done it. She’d actually invited him over to her house.

She stopped short with a little moan. What had she done? Jessie would be there and would insist on meeting him and she’d ask him all kinds of awkward questions. Clara had been an absolute idiot to invite him over.

Walking again, she tried to calm down. She’d wait outside for him. That way, Jessie wouldn’t have a chance for an inquisition. Would he think it strange if she didn’t invite him in? After all, she’d been in his house. Well, too bad. It was better than being embarrassed by her mother’s prying into stuff that was none of her business.

Reaching home, she let an exuberant Tatters out into the backyard, then turned on her computer. The Hatchetts didn’t have a website, but Bob Hatchett was listed under local electricians. After dialing the number on her cell phone, Clara waited for someone to answer.

On the third ring, a female voice cheerfully announced, “Hatchett’s Electricians. Can I help you?”

Clara sent up a silent prayer. “I’d like to speak to Eddie Hatchett, please.”

“Eddie’s not here,” the voice assured her. “Can I take a message?”

“Actually, I’m an old friend. I’d like to surprise him. Can you tell me where I can find him?”

The voice cooled considerably. “Eddie is working on the hotel project on the coast road.”

Clara felt a jolt of surprise. “Really? I thought he . . . er . . . left there.”

“The new foreman is a friend of Eddie’s father. He gave Eddie his job back.” The voice sounded suspicious now. “Bob Hatchett is here, though. May I tell him who’s calling?”

“That won’t be necessary. Thanks.” Clara closed her phone. So Eddie had gotten his job back at the construction site. That was interesting. Could that be a motive for murder? It seemed a bit extreme—to kill a guy just to get a job back. Then again, people had killed for less.

She spent the rest of the afternoon wrestling with worries over what she would say to Eddie when she caught up with him and wondering how her meeting with Rick would go later that evening.

By the time she was ready to pick up Stephanie, Clara was wishing she’d never invited Rick along on her walk with Tatters. She looked forward to her nightly jaunt with the dog. It was relaxing, giving her time to sort out her tangled thoughts. What’s more, she didn’t have to worry about her reaction when Tatters spoke in her head.

With Rick along, it would be anything but relaxing. She’d be weighing everything she said, and she’d have to be careful not to respond to Tatters if he transmitted his thoughts again.

Stephanie was waiting for her at the front gate, hugging herself to keep warm. “I was just about to go inside again,” she said as she opened the car door and slid onto the seat. “I swear it’s getting colder.”

“Don’t say that.” Clara drove away from the curb, one eye on the rearview mirror. “I keep hoping spring is just around the corner.”

“I wish it was.” Stephanie leaned forward to turn up the heat. “I’m so sick of this weather. I don’t know how you go out every night with that dog.”

A soft growl answered her from the backseat and she swung around. “Don’t tell me you brought him along?”

Clara glanced in the rearview mirror again and saw Tatters’ eyes staring back at her. “I thought we might need him for protection.”

“What about my allergies?”

“You don’t have allergies to dogs.”

“My kids do.”

“Then make sure you brush the hairs from your clothes before you go home.”

Stephanie looked back at the dog. “It’s going to take a mean dog to intimidate Eddie Hatchett. Are you up to the task, Tatters?”

Watch me.

Clara cleared her throat. “He can look intimidating when he wants to.”

“Well, let’s hope he wants to.” Stephanie turned back to stare out the windshield. “So, where are we going?”

“Out to the construction site.”

“What? I thought Eddie was fired from there.”

“He was. The new foreman hired him back. I guess he’s a friend of Eddie’s father.”

“Hmm.” Stephanie kept her gaze on the road ahead. “That was a little convenient.”

“Exactly what I thought.”

“So we’re going out to the construction site. Well, at least it’s not snowing.”

“Good thing it’s not. This road can be treacherous in the snow.” Clara glanced out over the ocean as they swept around the curve. The black horizon signaled the oncoming night, and she shivered, in spite of the warmth in the car. Tonight she’d be walking with Rick, in the dark. She wasn’t sure if the shivers were from apprehension or excitement.

“Do you know what you’re going to say to Eddie, if we see him?”

Her thoughts shattered, Clara jumped. “What? Yes. No. I don’t know. I guess I’ll ask him point-blank about his trip to the hospital.”

“What if he lies again?”

“Then I’ll tell him that his girlfriend told Molly the truth.”

“Won’t that cause trouble for his girlfriend?”

“I hope not. After all, she probably didn’t know he’d lied about it.”

“Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Stephanie nodded at the windshield. “We’re coming up on the site now.”

Clara squinted at the shadowed road ahead. She could just see the outline of the scaffolding rising against a rapidly darkening sky. “Let’s hope we see Eddie before everyone leaves,” she muttered.

“I’m sure Tatters will protect us,” Stephanie said, sounding not at all sure. “Won’t you, boy?”

Tatters whined in response. He didn’t sound too confident, either.

Clara’s fingers tightened on the wheel. Maybe she should have told Dan what they knew, after all. It was too late now. She’d reached the gravel parking lot, her tires crunching on the stones as she coasted into a space between a truck and a motorbike.

“Okay,” she said, doing her best to sound positive, “let’s see what we can find out.”

Stephanie scrambled out and walked around the car as Clara opened the back door to let Tatters out.

Fastening his leash, she said quietly, “You’re just here for support, so don’t do anything rash.”

Unless someone makes a wrong move
.

“Unless I give you an order.” Clara looked him in the eye. “I hope we’re clear.”

Stephanie uttered a nervous giggle. “Do you think he understood that?”

Clara shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out.”

“Maybe we should have put a muzzle on him.”

Give me a break.

Clara gave him a sharp tug on the leash. “He’ll be fine,” she said, hoping Tatters understood the warning in her voice.

The workmen were moving about beyond the closed gates, but so far it didn’t look as if anyone had left yet. Clara could see a light in the guardhouse just inside, and wondered if the same guy was on duty.

“Isn’t that Eddie over there?” Stephanie tugged on Clara’s arm. “The guy standing by the cement mixer.”

Clara squinted again, trying to see the man’s face. “It’s hard to tell from here. Guess we’ll have to wait until they come out.”

Before she could stop her, Stephanie stepped forward and put her mouth up to the fence. “Hey, Eddie!”

Clara seized Stephanie’s arm. “Wait!”

The burly guy had turned, and was staring at the gates.

Just then, the door to the guardhouse opened and a familiar figure stepped out.

Clara groaned. It was the same guy she’d spoken to the last time she was there.

He walked up to the gate and stared at Stephanie. “Okay, what’s all the fuss about?”

“We just wanted to speak to a friend of ours.” She smiled up at him. “Eddie Hatchett. Do you know him?”

The guy didn’t answer. Instead he looked at Tatters. “So what’s with the dog?”

“We were just taking him for a walk,” Clara said, hoping he wouldn’t recognize her.

The hope was short-lived. The guy scowled. “Oh, it’s you. What do you want this time? A blow-by-blow description of how to dig a hole? What the heck are you snooping around here for, anyway? What are you up to?”

Clara raised her chin. “We’re not snooping, we just—”

“Did somebody call my name?”

The harsh voice had come from behind the guard. He turned, and Eddie Hatchett stepped up next to him.

Staring from one cousin to the other, he demanded, “Do I know you?”

“You know a good friend of ours,” Clara said hastily. “Molly Owens.”

Just then a bell started ringing from inside the site. “Time to open up,” the guard said, looking at his watch. “You can talk outside. No dogs allowed in here. No visitors, either, unless you got a pass.” He trudged back to the shack and disappeared inside. A moment later, the gates slid open and clicked into place.

Eddie’s face was a mask of suspicion as he walked toward the cousins.

Clara swallowed. Once more, she’d put herself in the line of fire without a clue how to proceed. All she could hope was that Eddie didn’t fly off the handle and cause a scene, because heaven knew what Tatters would do if provoked. She could be in big trouble in more ways than one.

13

The first thing Clara noticed was that Eddie wore heavy boots. So much for her hope that he’d be wearing the incriminating sneakers. “We were wondering if we could have a word with you,” she said, trying to sound confident. It wasn’t going to help matters if Eddie realized her heart was pounding way too fast and her palms were sweaty.

“What about?” Eddie glanced at the gold watch on his wrist. “Make it quick. I’ve got a date.”

Clara opened her mouth, then shut it again. It was as if every word in the English dictionary had vanished from her mind. She felt Stephanie give her a sharp nudge in the side and opened her mouth again. “It’s about the night you hurt your wrist.”

Eddie held up his bandaged wrist and stared at it. “What about it?”

“Well, you told Molly that your girlfriend took you to the hospital around five thirty.”

A group of guys strolled past them, one of them calling out to Eddie, “That your fan club, Hatchett?”

The rest of the guys laughed, but Eddie wasn’t laughing. In fact, he looked as if he might explode any moment.

He took a step toward Clara, then halted as Tatters bared his teeth in a soft, warning growl.

Clara tugged lightly on the leash. “I was just wondering why your girlfriend told Molly that she took you to the hospital two hours later than you say she did.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie folded his arms, and glared at Tatters. “What’s it to you?”

“Scott Delwyn was a friend of ours. We’re trying to find out the truth about the night he died. When someone lies about what happened that night, it looks kind of suspicious, don’t you think? I wonder what the police chief would think about that.”

Eddie’s tough expression faded to a worried frown. “There’s no need to bring the cops into this. So I lied. When I heard that Delwyn had fallen off the scaffolding, I got worried. Everyone in this place knows I threatened him when he fired me. I was afraid I’d be blamed for his death. So when Molly started asking questions about that night, I decided it was safer to say I wasn’t around. I was figuring on them at the hospital not mentioning what time I got there if anyone checked.”

Clara gave him a hard stare. “Are you saying you think someone killed Scott Delwyn? That his death wasn’t an accident?”

The defiant look returned to Eddie’s face. “All I’m saying is that Scott may have been an s.o.b., but he was careful. He’d never take chances up there. I just can’t see him falling off, that’s all. One thing I do know, I didn’t kill him. Now quit bugging me about it and get out of my way.”

Again Tatters uttered a low growl.

“It’s all right, boy.” Clara tightened her hold on the leash. “Just one more question.” Ignoring Eddie’s scowl, she continued, “Do you have any idea who might have wanted to hurt Scott?”

“Nope, I don’t. What’s more, I don’t care. I’m sorry he’s dead, but I didn’t like the bastard, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one.” Eddie hunched his shoulders and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Now, I’m leaving. You’d better keep a tight hold on that dog of yours, or something bad might happen to him, too.”

Bring it on, soldier.

Clara felt Tatters straining on the leash and tugged it. “Thank you, Eddie. Good-night.”

Eddie looked from her to Stephanie, grunted and marched off toward the parking lot.

Tatters stared after him, the hair on the back of his neck forming a stiff ridge.

“Whew,” Stephanie said, fanning her face with her glove. “I’m sure glad that’s over.”

“Yeah, except we’re no closer to finding out who killed Scott.” Clara watched Eddie climb into his truck. “Interesting though that he thought someone had pushed Scott off that scaffolding. Guess we’re not the only ones who think it’s murder.”

“Unless Karen was right and Scott killed himself.”

“Not according to the Quinn Sense.”

Stephanie started walking toward the parking lot. “I don’t know how we’re going to prove anything when no one knows anything.”

Tugging on Tatters’ leash, Clara followed her. “Well someone knows something. Whoever killed him knows what happened. Sooner or later, that person’s going to slip up. I just hope we’re around when he does.”

“Well, do me a favor,” Stephanie said when Clara joined her inside the car. “Next time we go talk to someone, let’s make it either earlier or later. I’m sure George is getting tired of feeding the kids dinner.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just the way things have worked out.” Clara slid the car into gear and pulled out of the parking lot. “Does he know where you are and what you’re doing?”

“He thinks I’m planning a special event at the store.” She sighed. “Sooner or later, I’ll have to think of something.”

“When is Edgar Allen Poe’s birthday? We could celebrate that.”

“Can’t. It’s already gone. It was January nineteenth.” She brightened. “We could celebrate it next year, though. That’s a great idea!”

“It doesn’t help us much now, though.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll think of something. Besides, once this is over, I’ll tell George the truth. Like I always do.”

“That’s if he doesn’t find out first. Like he always does.”

“Okay, okay. Thank heavens he’s such a sweetheart. No one else would put up with me.”

Clara glanced at her. “You’re a great wife and mother, Steffie. I’m the one who’s always dragging you away from your family.”

“You don’t have to drag me. I come willingly. We’re in this together, remember? Just like the old days.”

“Yeah, and look how many times the old days got us into deep doo-doo.”

“That’s what makes life interesting.” Stephanie patted her cousin’s arm. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Though I must say, this case is more than frustrating. So many dead ends. We don’t have any real suspects. Just a lot of possibilities.”

“I know. Unless we get really lucky, or the Sense lets me see faces, we might have to give up on this one.”

“Never!” Stephanie struck a pose. “The fighting Quinns never give up. Didn’t your dad ever say that to you? Mine says it all the time.”

Clara laughed. “Mine said it all the time, too.” Her smile faded. “He had to give up in the end, though.”

“I’m sorry. I know how much you miss him. I shouldn’t have said all that.”

“It’s okay. It’s good to talk about him now and then. Jessie rarely mentions him anymore. I think she’s moving on.”

“Isn’t that what he would have wanted?”

“I guess so.” Clara glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Well, you should be home in time for dinner tonight.” She pulled up at the curb. “See you tomorrow.” She hesitated, wondering if she should say something about meeting Rick later, then decided to wait until tomorrow to tell Stephanie. That’s if there was anything to tell. After all, they were just going for a walk.

Stephanie turned around to pat Tatters. “You were a good boy,” she told him. “You scared that nasty man. Good dog!”

Tatters whined and wagged his tail.

She climbed out of the car, saying, “That dog does come in handy at times. See you!”

Clara waited for Tatters’ comment, but the dog was silent. Feeling slightly let down, she took off down the street.

Jessie was walking out the front door as Clara walked up the path. “I was hoping you’d get home before I left,” she said, as Tatters ran up to her. Leaning down to pet the dog, she added, “I have an appointment. I’ve left supper in the fridge for you.”

“Thanks, Mom, but you know I’m quite capable of fixing my own dinner. I did it all the time in New York.”

Jessie looked up at her. “Well, you’re not in New York now, and I have more time than you. Besides, I like to cook, and it’s no fun cooking for yourself.”

“I have to agree with that.” Clara stepped into the hallway. “Thanks again. Have a good time.”

“I intend to.” Jessie gave Tatters a final pat and hurried down the path.

Watching her mother trotting along in her fashionable pantsuit and high heels, Clara wondered if the “appointment” was her mother’s way of saying she had a date.

Jessie was always vague when she talked about her evenings out, and Clara preferred not to visualize her mother with another man. Especially if that man was Tony Manetas, the owner of the Pizza Parlor. He’d made no secret of the fact that he was interested in Jessie. Then again, he didn’t bother to hide his affection for most of his female customers, which made Clara wonder what her mother saw in him.

The next two hours passed slowly. After heating up the meat loaf and eating some of it, feeding Tatters and watching the news, Clara wandered into her bedroom and turned on her computer. According to the news anchor, there’d been no further developments in the bank robbery case. Nor was there anything online.

Clara answered a couple of e-mails and then turned off the computer. The moment she stood, Tatters was at the door, wagging his tail. It was time to get ready for their walk.

She took longer than usual to fix her hair, put on comfortable shoes and pull on her coat. All the while, Tatters paced back and forth between the bedroom and the front door. She kept waiting for his thoughts to enter her mind, and when he remained silent, she wondered if perhaps the line of communication between them had for some reason been broken. Moments later, she was outside on the dark street, with Tatters straining on the leash as usual.

“We’re waiting for someone,” she told him just as Rick’s truck turned the corner and coasted toward them.

He pulled up at the curb with a slight squeak from the brakes, and parked under the streetlamp.

Tatters stood watching the truck, his entire body quivering with excitement. The moment Rick appeared from behind the vehicle, the dog uttered a sharp bark and leapt forward, dragging Clara with him.

Rearing up on his hind legs, Tatters plunked two massive paws on Rick’s stomach.

Rick’s breath came out in a strangled, “Oof!”

“Sorry,” Clara muttered, dragging on the leash. “Sometimes he gets away from me.”

“It’s okay.” Grinning, Rick massaged the dog’s shaggy neck, then gently pushed him back on all fours. “Ready for a walk, mutt?”

Tatters barked, bounding around like a spring lamb.

“Guess that’s a yes.” Rick took the leash from Clara, adding, “Let me give you a break.”

Happy to give up the boisterous animal, Clara fell into step beside him. “He likes to go to the beach. Are you up for it?”

“Sure.” Rick tucked his free hand in his jacket pocket. “There’s nothing like a brisk walk on the beach in the middle of winter.”

Clara laughed. “It doesn’t seem to bother Tatters.”

“Why should it? He’s got a thick fur coat to protect him.”

“Maybe I should invest in a fur coat.”

“I thought fur coats were considered unethical in this environmental age.”

“Fake fur, then.”

“I can think of better ways to keep warm.”

She sent him a sideway glance, unsure how to take that. He was looking straight ahead, and she couldn’t tell from his expression if he was teasing or not. She decided to ignore it, and launched into a conversation about the new hotel project.

After discussing the pros and cons for several minutes, they both agreed that only time would tell if the new resort would be good for the town.

“I must admit,” Rick said, as they crossed the street to the sea wall, “it will be nice to have a golf course close by.”

“Do you play?” Clara paused at the wall, her gaze on the breakers cresting offshore. The full moon laid a silver path across the ocean, and in the distance, tiny dots of lights gleamed in the darkness from across the bay.

“Not as much as I used to.” Tatters whined and Rick looked down at him. “I guess you want to run on the sand.” He looked back at Clara. “How about it?”

Remembering her vision, Clara shivered. The last thing she needed was to have another one with Rick at her side.

Seeing her hesitation, Rick was quick to respond. “I know the beach isn’t exactly hospitable in this weather. Why don’t we let Tatters off the leash down there and we watch him from the wall?”

“Sounds like a good idea. As long as we don’t lose him.”

“He won’t go far.” Rick started for the steps that led down to the sand. “How about it, Tatters? You’ll come back when I whistle, right?”

The dog barked, and leapt ahead to the top of the steps.

Leaning down, Rick unclipped the leash. “Okay, mutt. Enjoy your freedom for a little while.”

Tatters wasted no time tearing down the steps. Once his paws hit the sand, he was off, leaping and bounding toward the ocean.

Clara sat on the wall, watching the big dog trot along the water’s edge. “He’s not going in the sea,” she said as Rick sat beside her. “He must know the water’s cold.”

“He’s not stupid, that dog.” Rick tucked the leash in his pocket. “In fact, there were times when I could swear he knew every word I spoke.”

Clara smiled. “I know what you mean.”

Rick was silent for a long moment, while Clara wondered what he was thinking. When he finally spoke, he took her completely off-guard. “Mind if I ask you a question?”

The fact that he’d asked first suggested it was going to be an awkward question. Bracing herself, she said warily, “Sure. What is it?”

He hunched his shoulders as if he were cold. “I was just wondering if you and Tim Rossi . . . I mean, I don’t want to butt into your personal life, but when I saw you two the other day, I started wondering . . . you know.”

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