Extra Sensory Deception by Allison Kingsley Page B

her.
    Recognizing Anita’s companion from the corral, Clara shut off the engine and rolled down her window.
    “I’m Melosa,” the woman said, peering through the window with a worried frown. “I just wanted a quick word with you.”
    “Sure.” Clara waited, but Melosa backed away, making it obvious she wanted her to get out of the car.
    Clara opened the door. “I won’t be a minute,” she muttered, and stepped out.
    Melosa backed up another step or two, looking as if she might turn tail and run any minute. “I—I heard you talking to Anita, and . . .” She glanced at the car, then lowered her voice. “I don’t want to get anyone into trouble, but . . .” Her words trailed off and she clutched her throat.
    “It’s okay,” Clara said, feeling sorry for the woman. It was obvious she was upset about something. “No one’s going to get into trouble without good reason. What did you want to tell me?”
    Melosa looked over her shoulder. “Promise me you won’t tell Anita I talked to you?”
    Clara held up her hand. “I swear.”
    The woman lowered her voice even more. “I wasn’t with her when she said she saw Lisa. She made me tell the police that, so she’d have an alibi. She said we’d both need an alibi or we’d be suspects in the murder. I was frightened what she might do if I didn’t say what she wanted, but now I’m scared the cops will find out I lied and arrest me.”
    Clara smiled. “I don’t think they’ll do that if you tell them what you told me.”
    Melosa shook her head so violently her long, black hair swished in front of her face. Brushing the heavy strands aside, she muttered, “I can’t talk to the police. That’s why I’m telling
you.
I just felt I had to tell someone, and when I heard you talking to Anita about Lisa, I thought you should know. Please don’t tell the cops what I told you.”
    “All right.” Clara opened the car door again. “Try not to worry. I’m sure the police will find out who killed Lisa and then all this will be over.”
    Melosa stepped closer. “I hope it wasn’t Wes. It would break Anita’s heart. She’s loco about him—even though he had eyes for no one but Lisa. Anita even stole things that belonged to him. She said it made her feel closer to him. I saw a glove, a belt, a shirt—”
    Clara straightened. “A red shirt?”
    Melosa’s eyes widened. “Yes, it was. How do you know?”
    Clara shrugged. “Just a guess. I don’t suppose you saw her with his pigging string?”
    Sheer horror flooded the other woman’s face. “You don’t think Anita killed Lisa? She wouldn’t . . . she couldn’t . . . I shouldn’t have said anything. Please forget what I told you.”
    Clara hurried to reassure her. “I’m not thinking anything, Melosa. Just asking, that’s all. Don’t worry. I won’t be talking to the police.”
    “Thank you.” Looking unconvinced, Melosa hurried off.
    “So what was that all about?” Stephanie asked, as Clara slid onto her seat. “I couldn’t hear what she was saying.”
    Starting the engine again, Clara repeated what Melosa had told her. “I think she’s really scared, though I’m not sure why. I told her I wouldn’t tell anyone what she said, but I can’t promise to keep quiet about this if the police ask questions.”
    “Well, you know how Dan feels about us ‘interfering in police business,’ as he calls it.” Stephanie fastened her seat belt. “It will be better for us if he doesn’t know we talked to anyone about the murder.”
    “I couldn’t agree more. Somehow he always finds out, though.”
    “Well let’s hope he doesn’t find out this time, or we’ll be in deep trouble.” She looked at her watch. “Let’s go. I’m getting hungrier by the minute.”
    “You’re always hungry.” Clara drove out of the field and headed back to the coast road. “I don’t know why you don’t carry snacks with you.”
    Yeah!
Tatters nudged Stephanie’s neck with his nose.
Why don’t