Mind Over Murder by Allison Kingsley

be it, then,” Rick said, giving the young woman a smile that sent her dancing off for his order.
    “Sure you’re okay?”
    Clara avoided his gaze. “I’m fine.” It had come out a little too abrupt and she hurried to add, “Just a little preoccupied, I guess.”
    “I can imagine. The shock of finding Ana’s body and all. It takes a long time to get something like that out of your head.”
    “Exactly.” She felt herself beginning to relax. “That’s why I came out here. To get away from it all for a little while.”
    “Has Dan made any progress on finding the killer?”
    Her nerves tightened again. “I wouldn’t know. He doesn’t confide in us.”
    “I just wondered if you’d heard rumors.”
    “Such as?”
    He shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. People talk.”
    She didn’t like where this conversation was going. He seemed much too interested in knowing if there’d been any developments in the case. Or maybe she was just overreacting again. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately.
    She took a big bite of her lobster roll, spilling some of the lobster pieces onto her plate. “That’s the problem with these things,” she mumbled. “You can’t look elegant while you’re eating them.”
    “You could look elegant hauling lobsters out of the ocean.”
    He was smiling. He really did have a nice smile. She couldn’t help smiling back. “Thank you. I think.”
    The waitress arrived with Rick’s order, giving Clara time to recover her composure. She waited until he had started on his roll before saying as casually as she could manage, “What really surprises me about Ana’s murder is that apparently no one saw anything, or noticed anything unusual. Dan said she was killed sometime between nine and eleven on Friday night. There must have been people on the street around that time.”
    Rick lifted his glass. “What do you mean by unusual?”
    “Well, you know, Ana going into the bookstore after hours. Maybe forced to go in by someone.”
    “How do you know she went in after hours?” He tilted the glass and drank several gulps of his beer.
    Clara paused, her roll halfway to her mouth. “Are you saying you believe the rumors that Molly killed her?”
    She couldn’t read his expression as he looked at her. “It’s obvious you don’t.”
    “Of course I don’t.” She put down her roll, her appetite for it fast disappearing. “I think the whole idea is ridiculous. Molly had nothing to do with Ana’s murder.”
    “She told you that.”
    “Yes, she did.”
    “And you believed her.”
    “Absolutely. I can usually tell when people are lying.”
    “Then you’re lucky. Personally, I think there are far too many good liars in this world.”
    The bitterness in his words was impossible to ignore. Someone somewhere must have hurt him badly. She knew how that felt. She could literally feel the resentment steaming out of him. It was such a contrast to his usual disposition that it shocked her into silence.
    “Sorry.” He grinned, and in a flash once more became the cheerful, agreeable man she thought she knew. “As a matter of fact, I agree with you. I just can’t see Molly bashing someone over the head with a masterpiece she’d just created.”
    Clara’s shoulders sagged in relief. With or without the Sense, she was ready to believe that Rick Sanders was not the killer either, and until the voices told her otherwise, she intended to hold on to that. “So who do you think might have been responsible?”
    “Could have been anyone, I guess.”
    He turned to look out of the window, giving her an opportunity to study his profile. Strong nose and chin. She liked that.
    “So, have you met the formidable Roberta Prince?”
    His question took her by surprise, especially since he looked back at her and once more caught her staring at him. He had to think she was totally juvenile. “Yes, she came into the store this morning and introduced herself. Sort of.”
    Rick smiled. “Gave you a hard