Free Extra Sensory Deception by Allison Kingsley Page B

again,
She’s lying. She’s lying. She’s lying.
    —
    “So what was that red shirt thing all about?” Stephanie demanded as they walked back to the car.
    “It was in one of my visions. I saw someone standing over Lisa’s body, and he was wearing a red shirt. It just occurred to me I only saw the back of him. It could have been a woman.”
    “You think Anita killed Lisa?”
    “Maybe. She had a motive. She’s obviously fond of Wes, and he was chasing after Lisa. Maybe she figured if she got rid of Lisa, she’d have more of a chance with him.”
    Stephanie looked back at the corral, where Anita was talking to the other woman. “She looks tough enough to have done it, but if she’s in love with Wes, why would she try to pin the murder on him?”
    “She might not have intended to implicate him. She could have just happened to have his rope with her when she met with Lisa. Maybe they argued, and it got out of control.”
    “I don’t know.” Stephanie looked doubtful. “She just doesn’t seem like the murdering type.” Clara smiled. “You know what they say about a woman scorned. And, as you already pointed out, she’s definitely tough enough to have done it. On the other hand, she said she didn’t have a red shirt. If she’s telling the truth about that, she’s not the person in my vision.”
    “I wonder if Wes has a red shirt.”
    Clara reluctantly nodded. “He does. He was wearing it at the rodeo.”
    “Oh crap.”
    “He can’t be the only one who owns a red shirt.”
    “No, of course not.” Stephanie brightened her voice. “All we have to do is find out who else has one.”
    “And the proof to go with it. Nobody’s going to listen to me rambling on about my visions.”
    Stephanie made a face. “You’re right about that.” She climbed into the car and slammed the door. “So where are we going now?”
    “To talk to Paul Eastcott.”
    “He’s not going to admit to you or anyone else that he was having an affair with a murdered woman.”
    “Maybe not, but I’ve wanted to get a look at the new resort ever since it opened. This is a good excuse to get inside and check the place out.”
    Behind her, Tatters yawned.
I gotta pee.
    Clara sighed and opened her door again. “I’d better take Tatters for a quick walk. Do you want to come, or would you rather wait here for us?”
    “I’ll wait here.” Stephanie fished her cell phone out of her purse. “I need to call Molly and see how things are going at the store.”
    Leaving her cousin to make her call, Clara fastened Tatters’ leash and led him across the grass to the trees. The raucous sounds of the carnival faded as they followed a rough trail into the woods, until finally Tatters found the right spot to lift his leg.
    They had just started back when the dog uttered a low growl and stopped, a tuft of hair rising on the back of his neck.
    Startled, Clara peered up the trail and was surprised to see how far they had wandered. “What is it, boy?”
    Tatters answered with another growl.
    She could hear it now—the snapping of twigs as someone blundered through the trees somewhere on her right. There was something ominous in the sound, and she waited, holding tightly to Tatters’ leash, as whoever it was drew closer.

Tatters stood in fighting mode, feet planted firmly, ears pointed forward, hackles rising.
    Clara felt a strong urge to run, and in the next instant chided herself for being so paranoid. Even so, she surged ahead, tugging on Tatters’ leash when he showed no signs of wanting to follow her.
    “Come on, boy,” she said, giving him another tug. “Steffie’s waiting for us.”
    Tatters growled again and this time leapt past her to stand in front of her. As he did so, a man stepped out from behind some shrubbery, making every nerve in Clara’s body spring to attention.
    At first she didn’t recognize him, and fear formed a lump in her throat as he limped toward her, a grin widening his mouth.
    “Clara, isn’t it? I