Mind Over Murder Read Online Free PDF Page B

“As soon as I heard the news, I felt I had to get home and find out what happened. I’m going to make some tea, so let’s go into the kitchen and you can fill me in on all the details.”
    Clara sent a reluctant glance at her laptop, then closed the lid. She wouldn’t get any peace until she’d told her mother everything she knew, so she might as well get it over with, and maybe she’d still have enough energy left over to finish her e-mails.

    Across town, Stephanie set up the ironing board in her kitchen, grabbed a shirt from the basket, and started slapping the iron back and forth so hard it shot out a cloud of steam in protest.
    She still couldn’t believe that Clara had refused to help clear Molly’s name. Her cousin had never refused her anything before. She’d only had to ask, and Clara had been there, ready and willing to take whatever risks were involved.
    Stephanie slammed the iron down on the collar of the shirt. Clara had changed, that much was obvious. That crack about being done with men, for instance. Clara had mentioned a boyfriend more than once but had refused to go into details. Not like the old days when they’d shared every thought and dream. The longer Clara had stayed in New York, the more secretive and reserved she’d become. Unlike her cousin—blurting out everything as it came to mind.
    She’d been so looking forward to Clara coming back to Finn’s Harbor to live. She’d envisioned the two of them just as they’d been in the past—eager daredevils ready to take on the world. Sure, she was married now and had three kids to take care of, and she was happy being a wife and mother, but deep down she was still Steffie, looking for excitement around every corner.
    Stephanie let out a wistful sigh. It had been a long time since Clara had called her Steffie. It had been a very long time since she and Clara had exchanged secrets.
    She shook out the shirt and hung it on a hanger, giving it a gentle pat before reaching in the laundry basket for another shirt to iron. Not that she’d trade her life with George and the kids for any kind of adventure.
    Still, there was no one else she could share her deepest, most intimate hopes and fears with the way she had with Clara, and she missed that. She missed it a lot.
    A forlorn tear splashed onto her fingers, and she jabbed an impatient hand at her cheek. Lifting the iron, she flattened a sleeve and was about to tackle it when the soft click of a closing door froze her hand.
    Her quick glance at the clock confirmed that it was way too early for her mother to be bringing the kids home. George never got home before dinnertime, and it was still only the middle of the afternoon.
    Someone was in the house.
    Her thoughts flew to the still form underneath the sheet on the gurney. Clara hadn’t let her near the stockroom after she’d found Ana’s body, but Stephanie’s imagination filled in a pretty good picture. What if she were next?
    Her heart pounded so hard it shook her entire body. She grabbed hold of the iron, pulled out the plug, then crept over to the fridge. If the person who entered her house came into the kitchen, he was going to get a nasty headache.
    Ears straining and arm raised, she waited. Maybe she’d imagined the door closing. Her arm ached, and she lowered the iron. Perhaps she should just take a look.
    She took a step forward then froze again. That creak . She knew it well. It was the third stair from the top. She’d caught her kids sneaking downstairs more than once because of it. He was going up to the bedrooms .
    Holding her breath, she edged toward the counter where she’d left her cell phone. She had to put the iron down to open the phone, and she quickly jabbed 911 with her thumb.
    Patty, the dispatcher, sounded awfully loud when she answered. “Finn’s Harbor Police. What’s your emergency?”
    “There’s someone in my house,” Stephanie whispered. “Please hurry.”
    “Address?”
    Stephanie whispered it, almost