idea who did it?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Someone said Dan was questioning Molly.”
Clara raised her chin. “Dan questioned a lot of people. Molly had nothing to do with it.”
John Halloran smiled. “Of course she didn’t.” He moved closer to lay the books on the counter, bringing with him the too-sweet scent of his cologne. “I wonder who did, though. Why in here? Unless whoever killed her wanted the police to think it was one of you. After all, Ana wanted to shut down the store, didn’t she? And we all know how good she was at getting her own way. Who else had such a strong reason to want her out of the way?”
Clara curled her fingers into her palm. “Plenty of people, from what I hear.”
His eyes narrowed just a bit. “Yes, I don’t suppose there’ll be too many mourners at her funeral.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Well, I’m sure Dan will find our killer soon enough. This is a small town. Not a lot of places to hide, right?”
His laugh sent chills down her spine. Quickly she scanned the purchase and swiped his card. After handing him the sales slip, she dropped the books into a bag and pushed it toward him. “Thank you, Mr. Halloran.”
“Oh, please, call me John. Everyone does.” He picked up the bag and tucked it under his arm. “Good day, Clara. I’ll be seeing you soon.”
It sounded more like a threat than a promise. She managed a weak smile, conscious of Molly’s words pounding in her head. Get what you can out of him . It was a lot easier to say it than to do it.
He was almost at the door when she blurted out, “I don’t suppose you happened to see anything the night Ana was murdered?”
He paused so long she dug a channel into her palms with her nails. Then he turned, his pale gray eyes gleaming behind the glasses. “See anything?”
“Unusual, I mean. Something that could help us find out who did this awful thing.”
“If I had,” John Halloran said in his soft voice, “I would have certainly told the police.”
“Oh, of course.” Clara nodded her head at him, and then couldn’t seem to stop nodding. “I was only wondering, that’s all.”
“We’re all wondering.” He turned back to the door and opened it. “All except the murderer, of course.” He started chuckling as he went out the door, and it closed behind him.
Clara let out all the breath she’d been holding in one big gasp and propped her elbows on the counter. So much for this detective work. It was a lot harder than she’d thought.
At least she hadn’t heard voices in her head while she was talking to him. Just for a moment she almost wished she had. She might have learned something useful. As far as she could tell, John Halloran hadn’t actually lied, though now that she thought about it, he hadn’t said much at all.
Stephanie and Molly would probably be disappointed in her, though she couldn’t see what more she could have done, other than ask him outright if he’d killed Ana. Not that he was likely to admit it, of course, but the voices might have been able to tell her if he’d lied.
There she went again. Darn the Quinn Sense. It was nothing but trouble when it was there, and it was never there when she could use it. Her biggest fear about coming back to Finn’s Harbor was that she’d get it back full strength, and thinking about it all the time didn’t help.
Annoyed with herself, she charged out from behind the counter and headed for the Reading Nook. Maybe a spurt of cleaning up would help take her mind off things. If there was one thing she didn’t need, it was the Quinn Sense coming back to haunt her.
5
Stephanie called just as Clara was putting away the coffee cups. “So? What did you find out about John Halloran?” she demanded, when Clara picked up the phone.
“Not much.” Clara told her what she remembered of the conversation. “I tried to find out where he was on Friday night, but he wasn’t too helpful.”
“Maybe you didn’t ask the right
“I don’t think so.”
“Someone said Dan was questioning Molly.”
Clara raised her chin. “Dan questioned a lot of people. Molly had nothing to do with it.”
John Halloran smiled. “Of course she didn’t.” He moved closer to lay the books on the counter, bringing with him the too-sweet scent of his cologne. “I wonder who did, though. Why in here? Unless whoever killed her wanted the police to think it was one of you. After all, Ana wanted to shut down the store, didn’t she? And we all know how good she was at getting her own way. Who else had such a strong reason to want her out of the way?”
Clara curled her fingers into her palm. “Plenty of people, from what I hear.”
His eyes narrowed just a bit. “Yes, I don’t suppose there’ll be too many mourners at her funeral.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Well, I’m sure Dan will find our killer soon enough. This is a small town. Not a lot of places to hide, right?”
His laugh sent chills down her spine. Quickly she scanned the purchase and swiped his card. After handing him the sales slip, she dropped the books into a bag and pushed it toward him. “Thank you, Mr. Halloran.”
“Oh, please, call me John. Everyone does.” He picked up the bag and tucked it under his arm. “Good day, Clara. I’ll be seeing you soon.”
It sounded more like a threat than a promise. She managed a weak smile, conscious of Molly’s words pounding in her head. Get what you can out of him . It was a lot easier to say it than to do it.
He was almost at the door when she blurted out, “I don’t suppose you happened to see anything the night Ana was murdered?”
He paused so long she dug a channel into her palms with her nails. Then he turned, his pale gray eyes gleaming behind the glasses. “See anything?”
“Unusual, I mean. Something that could help us find out who did this awful thing.”
“If I had,” John Halloran said in his soft voice, “I would have certainly told the police.”
“Oh, of course.” Clara nodded her head at him, and then couldn’t seem to stop nodding. “I was only wondering, that’s all.”
“We’re all wondering.” He turned back to the door and opened it. “All except the murderer, of course.” He started chuckling as he went out the door, and it closed behind him.
Clara let out all the breath she’d been holding in one big gasp and propped her elbows on the counter. So much for this detective work. It was a lot harder than she’d thought.
At least she hadn’t heard voices in her head while she was talking to him. Just for a moment she almost wished she had. She might have learned something useful. As far as she could tell, John Halloran hadn’t actually lied, though now that she thought about it, he hadn’t said much at all.
Stephanie and Molly would probably be disappointed in her, though she couldn’t see what more she could have done, other than ask him outright if he’d killed Ana. Not that he was likely to admit it, of course, but the voices might have been able to tell her if he’d lied.
There she went again. Darn the Quinn Sense. It was nothing but trouble when it was there, and it was never there when she could use it. Her biggest fear about coming back to Finn’s Harbor was that she’d get it back full strength, and thinking about it all the time didn’t help.
Annoyed with herself, she charged out from behind the counter and headed for the Reading Nook. Maybe a spurt of cleaning up would help take her mind off things. If there was one thing she didn’t need, it was the Quinn Sense coming back to haunt her.
5
Stephanie called just as Clara was putting away the coffee cups. “So? What did you find out about John Halloran?” she demanded, when Clara picked up the phone.
“Not much.” Clara told her what she remembered of the conversation. “I tried to find out where he was on Friday night, but he wasn’t too helpful.”
“Maybe you didn’t ask the right
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