Free Trouble Vision by Allison Kingsley Page B

see the killer in jail. Which reminds me, the funeral is tomorrow afternoon. Are you both going?”
    Stephanie gasped. “Is it that soon? I didn’t know.” She raised her chin and stared at the roof of the car for a moment. “I think we should close the bookstore for the afternoon, so that we can all go. I’m sure our customers will understand.”
    Molly smiled. “That’s nice. The service is at two o’clock, at Marlowe’s Funeral Home.”
    “I’ll be there.” Stephanie glanced at her watch. “Guess I’d better be getting back. See you two tomorrow.”
    “I’ll get to the store early,” Clara promised as her cousin climbed out of the car, “since we’re closing for the afternoon.”
    “Thanks.” Stephanie waved a good-bye and headed off to her car.
    “Wait until she’s heading out,” Clara said, as Molly slid the gear into drive. “I want to be sure she’s on her way.”
    Molly gave her an odd look. “What are you afraid of?”
    “I don’t know.” Clara hunched her shoulders. “I just don’t trust some of those guys in there.”
    Moments later, Stephanie’s car pulled away from the curb, and Clara could relax again. Molly chattered all the way back to the bookstore, but Clara listened with only half an ear, murmuring an answer now and then when it seemed necessary.
    Her mind was on her vision and the two people struggling on the scaffolding with the body of Scott Delwyn between them. How she wished she could have seen their faces. The darkness and the rain had made it difficult to see much at all. She couldn’t say now if they were short or tall, thin or fat.
    She closed her eyes, seeing again the shadowy figures heaving the body over the edge to the ground below. Deep in concentration, she jumped violently when Molly spoke.
    “Are you okay? You’re awfully quiet.”
    “Oh, yes, I’m fine.” She managed a light laugh. “Just tired, I guess.”
    “So what are we going to do now? Look for another suspect?”
    Clara hesitated, reluctant to get Molly any further involved in what could very well be a wild-goose chase. After all, the Sense hadn’t been too reliable in the past. Even as she thought it, she was dismissing the doubts. She knew what she’d seen.
    She’d been there, on that scaffolding, watching a murder unfold. Whether Scott Delwyn had been unconscious or dead when he was shoved off, those two people were responsible for depriving two little girls of a father, and a young woman had lost her husband.
    She was probably the only one, besides the killers, who really knew the truth and nothing or nobody was going to get in her way, Clara vowed, until they were safely behind bars.

6
    The following afternoon, Molly and the cousins sat near the rear of the room in the funeral home, listening to the glowing and sometimes tearful remembrances of Scott Delwyn. It was hard for all in attendance. Molly had tears running down her cheeks, and Stephanie kept dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.
    Clara managed to hold her emotions in check, though she ached with sadness for the weeping widow and her young girls. Scott, it seemed, was well-liked in the community, judging by the number of people present at the service. Neither Lionel Clapham nor Josh Millstone had chosen to join the mourners, which really didn’t surprise her. Neither one of them had shown much regret over Scott’s death.
    After the service and burial, everyone was invited back to the widow’s house for a celebration of Scott’s life. Clara would rather have gone home from the cemetery, but Stephanie and Molly wanted to go to the reception, and not wanting to appear unsociable, Clara tagged along.
    Standing in the crowded living room, Clara listened to Stephanie and Molly making small talk with a couple of the bookstore’s customers. Now and again she managed to get a word or two into the conversation, but after a while she became restless. Chatting with comparative strangers was never her strong point, and she longed to be