by Tim Myers
He promised, then went to Patrick Thornton’s room to start his day of cleaning.
The room was as neat as he’d left it, and Alex wondered yet again about the guests who made their own beds. He lad one woman from Virginia who brought her own cleaning supplies with her for the annual week she spent at the Bin. Earline Christine claimed that cleaning calmed her, and Alex had promised her a go at the glass at the top of the lighthouse on her next visit.
Alex did a perfunctory check of the bathroom and noticed that the toilet was still running. Sometimes the chains got hung up and Alex lifted the lid to straighten it.
The cause of the problem was immediately obvious, but Alex didn’t know what to do about it.
He went back to the lobby and found Elise. “That was quick,” she said.
“I need you,” Alex said simply, and she followed him to Patrick Thornton’s room without a single question. That was one of the things he liked about her. Elise knew when it was time for discretion; there were things the inn’s guests didn’t need to know about that were going on a Hatteras West.
After he shut the door to Thornton’s room, Elise asked “What is it?”
“Come into the bathroom.”
She followed him in, and Alex gestured to the open toilet tank. Elise looked inside at the carefully bundled package about the size and shape of a large flashlight, then said, “What do you think it is, drugs?”
“I don’t know. The question is, what do we do about it?”
Elise asked, “How did you find it? I do a thorough job of cleaning, but even I’m not that meticulous.”
“The toilet was running, so I looked in to see if I could fix it.” Alex nudged the tube slightly, freeing the chain and dropping the stopper. The water started to fill again immediately.
“Should we call Armstrong?” Elise asked.
“And tell him what? Elise, I’m not sure what he could do about this. We don’t know Thornton’s up to anything.”
Elise said, “He’s not hiding his toothbrush in there.”
“So do you think we should open it?”
She studied the wrapping, then reached down and pulled the bundle out. Grabbing a hand towel, Elise dried off the plastic and duct tape. “I don’t know how we could rewrap this without him knowing we found it.”
“Let me see it,” Alex said as he accepted the package It was surprisingly heavy for its size. “It feels like it’s full of lead,” Alex said as he hefted it up and down. “One thing’s certain, I don’t think it’s drugs. Or else why would it be so heavy?”
Elise said, “The weight might just be to keep it from floating to the top of the tank. So what do you think we should do about it?”
“Let’s put it back for now. I need to think about this.” Elise started to slide the package back in the reservoir tank, then flushed the toilet to drain the water temporarily. Placing the cube on the bottom of the tank, Alex watched as the water refilled.
“I don’t like this,” Elise said.
“Neither do I, but what can we do about it?”
“We can watch him,” she said. “I wonder,” she added, staring at the tube.
“What?”
“Could it be holding Reston Shay’s emerald?”
Alex shook his head. “Not unless he cut it up. I doubt if the Carolina Rhapsody would fit inside it.”
“I suppose you’re right. So he might not have stolen the gem, but he’s still up to something.”
Alex left the bathroom and deadbolted the main door to the room. “Why don’t we have a quick look around while he’s gone?”
Elise smiled. “You’re on.” They went through the room thoroughly, and were both surprised by the lack of personal items Patrick Thornton he had brought with him to Hatteras West. There were stacks of charts and maps on the table, covered with cryptic narks and symbols that Alex didn’t recognize. Other than that, it was hard to believe the man was even using his room at the inn.
“Nothing,” Elise said. “I don’t get it, but I’m not giving up on him.”
“I’d be stunned if you did,” Alex replied. “Let’s both think about this, and we can discuss it later.” She agreed, and left to clean the guestrooms in the other building. Alex had been tempted to cut the package open and see what Thornton was hiding, but he couldn’t bring; himself to violate his guest’s privacy without more of it reason than just to satisfy his curiosity.
After replacing the dirty towels with fresh ones, Alex; reluctantly left Thornton’s room and started on the next one on his list.
Alex was finished with his rooms and decided to start working on the mail at the front desk in the lobby of Main. Two of his guests, Melva Flump and Laura Darcy, were playing a game of backgammon, while Morgan Raye, a professor from Carolina visiting on sabbatical, dozed by the fireplace, a book tented neatly on his chest. Morgan had been in that spot for the past three days, getting up only for meals and other such essential breaks. He’d gone through a remarkably small amount of reading material, but the man had taken a most prestigious amount of naps. Alex envied him the rest, and could see himself taking exactly that kind of vacation if he could ever afford to take time off from his inn. Among the bills and reservation quests, there was a letter in the pile from Harry Pickering, a friend he sometimes corresponded with who was another lighthouse innkeeper living on the North Carolina Outer Banks twenty miles from the original Cape Hatteras Lighthouse. The two had been exchanging letters for years, living in the same state but separated by the miles from mountain to coast. They’d even managed to meet when Harry had been in Greensboro visiting his wife’s family. The two men, sharing so much, had gotten along from the start.
Alex skimmed the letter, wondering what Harry was up to, and nearly dropped it when he read the opening.
‘Alex, my friend, I’ve got a wild idea, and I’m not sure how you’re going to feel about it, but hear me out before you say no. Barbara has been talking about a vacation to the mountains for so long my ears are bleeding, but you know, more than anyone else, how precarious a living this innkeeping life is. Still, a vacation is long past due for us, as I’m sure it is for you. So here’s my crazy idea. Why don’t we swap inns for a couple of weeks when things slow down in the winter season? I remember you telling me how much you could use a break yourself. You could run Cape Kidd, and Barbara and I could take care of Hatteras West. Who better to watch over our lighthouse inns than each other! Think about it, and if it sounds like something you’d like to do, call me and we’ll work out the details. You and Elise should have plenty of time to explore the coastline while you’re here, and Barbara and I could take a few day-trips to Boone and Blowing Rock. She’s been aching to dig for emeralds in Hiddenite, too.
Let me know what you think. If it sounds too crazy for you, don’t sweat it, I promise I won’t be offended. More later, from one lighthouse nut to another, Your friend, Harry.’
Alex looked up to see Elise standing nearby. “What is it?” she asked. “Bad news?”
“Harry Pickering wants to trade inns with us this winter. It’s crazy, but he’s invited us to run Cape Kidd while he and Barbara take over Hatteras West.”
Elise said, “Are we going to do it?”
“Do you mean to tell me you’re interested?” Alex asked.
She said, “You know I’ve never been to the Outer Banks. I’ve been dying to see the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse.”
“Just look out the window,” Alex said.
“You know what I mean. We could eat seafood every night.”
Alex admitted, “I’m allergic.”
“Oh, that’s right, I forgot. Still, there are walks on the beach, we could hunt for seashells, and best of all, there are lighthouses out there I haven’t seen yet.”
“So you’re willing to take a busman’s holiday and do this?”
Elise said, “It’s your inn, Alex, so it’s got to be your decision.”
“But what do you really think?”
Elise said, “I think it
could be wonderful.”
“You know, it might be fun at that,” Alex said as he tapped the letter on the counter. It could be just what he needed, running another lighthouse inn in a different part of North Carolina. And maybe getting Elise in such romantic surroundings would give her the nudge he’d been hoping for. A walk along the beach in moonlight could lead to a new level in the relationship.
Alex was about to agree when Mr. Monet, the restaurateur, walked in looking quite agitated about something. Only then did Alex realize he’d neglected to call the man back.
Chapter 10
“Mr. Winston, do you have a moment?”
Alex nodded. “Certainly. I apologize for not returning your telephone calls, but things have been busy here.”
Monet waved a hand in the air. “No excuses necessary, sir. I’ve been meaning to visit you long before we first met. I’m well acquainted with the travails of running an inn.”
“Have you done it yourself?” Alex asked.
“Me? No sir, but I was, for a time, in the employ of a rather large hotel restaurant, and the manager befriended me. I know the headaches you must have.”
“So what’s on your mind?” Alex asked.
Monet looked around, noticed the people in the lobby, and asked, “Is there somewhere private we could speak?”
“My office isn’t much, but at least it has a door that closes,” Alex said lightly.
“It will be fine,” Monet said. He turned to Elise and said, “If you’ll excuse us?”
“Certainly,” she said. “I’ve got work to do myself.”
After they were safely ensconced in Alex’s tiny office, Monet said, “I’ve been quite troubled by something. You and your friends haven’t returned to my restaurant.”
Alex looked at his hands. “It’s only been a few days.”
Money said, “I know sometimes I push too hard, but I thought that after our conversation the other night, you might be the one to help me.” Monet’s mustache started to tremble, and it looked as though the man was about to cry. He bit back the emotion, and then continued. “Forgive me for coming here and burdening you with my problems.”
Monet started to get up when Alex said, “There’s nothing to forgive. If you need a friendly ear, I’m right here.”
“‘It is too much to ask,” Monet said.
Alex said. “‘Nonsense. Everybody needs to unload now and then. If I can help, I will.”
Monet slumped back into his chair. “There is no one else I can unburden myself to, no one I can call a true friend. I’m afraid I’ve made a dreadful mistake.”
Alex listened, waiting for Monet to go on, afraid that if he said anything, did anything but nod and look sympathetic, Monet would bolt. And the man had something on his mind, troubles he needed to share.
After a few moments, Monet continued. “Everything I have, everything I am, is invested in my restaurant. It is my dream, at last come true, but it’s quickly turning into a nightmare. My chef quitting was only one in a long line of difficulties.”
“Have you replaced him yet?”
Monet nodded. “The new man is quite good, but my customers are not coming back. Why is that, do you know?”
Alex took a deep breath, then said, “Would you really like to know what I think, or are you looking for sympathy?”
“I need the truth,” Monet said, “no matter how bitter it is to take”
Alex said, “Okay, but remember, you asked. Your prices are way too high for Elkton Falls and the menu is a little too rich. But I’m not the one you should be asking.”
Again Monet started to get up when Alex continued. “There are two women you should be talking to, and one of them is right here.”
“You have a guest who is a restaurateur?”
Alex said, “I can do one better than that. My housekeeper, Elise Danton, has a degree in hotel/motel management, and experience, as well. She might be able to give you some insights that will help.”
“And the second woman?” Monet asked.
“Irma Bean.”
“Mama Ravolini herself? Surely you jest, I am her competitor. Why should she help me?”
“Don’t sell Irma short. She’s a good woman with a big heart. She might just surprise you. Think about it. What’s the worst thing that could happen, she refuses to help you?”
“No, Alex, the worst thing is that I could lose my dream.”
“So fight for it and try to fix what’s not working for you. Hang on, I’ll be right back.” Alex found Elise in the lobby preparing to dust. “How’d you like to trade?”
“Is Mr. Monet still here?”
“He’s in my office,” Alex said, “and he needs your advice about running a restaurant in Elkton Falls.”
“He should talk to Irma,” Elise said.
“That’s what I just told him, but I thought you could help him, too. You’ve been in the service business a long time.”
“I’m not sure what I can do, but I’ll try,” she said as she handed him the dust rag and spray.
As Alex worked around the lobby dusting some of the collection of lighthouse paraphernalia and mountain culture his family had amassed, one of his guests came in the front door. Claudia Post had been out for her daily walk, something she’d done every chance she’d gotten since coming to the inn.
“Did you have a nice walk?” Alex asked. He made it a point to avoid any reference to the exploding wine incident.
“You’ve got some beautiful trails around here,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about the restaurants in town. I’d like to go someplace special tonight.”
Alex wanted to recommend Monet’s Garden to her, but until Monet turned things around, Alex owed his first loyalty to his guests. “Mama Ravolini’s is a great place if you like Italian. Buck’s Grill is fine for burgers and fries, but it’s not exactly a fancy eatery.”
Claudia said, “What about this Monet’s Garden I’ve been hearing about? He’s here again today, isn’t he? I saw him drive up when I walked past the inn a few minutes ago. I thought you two were friends.”
“We just met the other night,” Alex said. “But you must be mistaken. This is the first time he’s ever been to Hatteras West.”
Claudia looked surprised. “Are you sure? I could have sworn I saw him out here in his car a few days ago.”
“When exactly did you see him?” Alex asked.
“I’m certain it was the day of the murder,” Claudia said. “I’m not likely to ever forget that. Well, I’d better go to my room and change. I’m going to Hickory today and do some shopping.”
As Alex finished his dusting, he wondered if Claudia could be mistaken, or if Monet had visited the inn before. But why would he lie about something like that? It just didn’t make sense. Alex knew it would gnaw at him until he knew, but as he started for his office, the telephone at the front desk rang.
“Alex, this is Vince Darcy.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I hate to ask,” Vince said, “but we’re out of towels. Laura got a little carried away.”
Alex said, “I’ll be right up.” He retrieved a new set from the linen closet upstairs and delivered them to the couple. By the time he got back downstairs, Monet was gone. Alex would have to ask him about his visits to Hatteras West later.
“So what did you tell him?” Alex asked Elise when he saw her later.
“Mostly I listened,” Elise said. “He’s going straight to Irma’s. I called her, and she’s willing to help.”
“She’s got a good heart, even if it ends up ruining her. Did Monet say anything about being out here at the inn before today?”
Elise said, “No. In fact, he made a point to mention this was his first visit here. Why?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Alex said, trying to dismiss it.
Elise wasn’t buying it, though. “What’s going on, Alex?”
“Claudia Post just told me she saw Monet out here the day of the murder. If that’s true, why
has he been making such a fuss about this being his first visit?”
“That is odd,” Elise said. “Could Claudia have been mistaken?”
“It’s possible, I guess. She saw him from the walking trail, and Monet’s a hard man to miss between that gleaming bald head and his handlebar mustache. I can’t think of a soul in Elkton Falls who looks anything like him.”
“You’ve got a point there.”
Melva Hump interrupted them, her game of backgammon with Laura Darcy completed. “Excuse the interruption, but I seem to be out of postcards.”
Alex knew why, but he promised them to his guests, even if this one was trying to go through an entire print run herself.
Elise said, “Of course. Come with me and I’ll get you some.”
Alex wondered what adventures Melva would be writing about tonight as Elise led her to their supply closet He’d have to check the level of their inventory and order more if Melva was going to stay on. Alex put Monet out of his mind, promising himself to talk with the man again and ask him about Claudia’s account of his prior visit.
For now, he had an inn to run.
Alex was surprised to find Rose Lane waiting for him at the front desk.
“It’s good to see you back.”
“I’m looking for a job,” she said brusquely.
“Any one in particular?” Alex asked.
“I used to be a maid. Was one for years. This place is too big for two people to run.” She took a breath, looked around, then said, “If you want to treat your guests right, anyway.”
Alex wished he could dispute her statement, but it was all too true. With just he and Elise running Hatteras West now that both buildings were reopened for guests, it was all they could do to perform their regular tasks, not even taking into account adding those special touches that made folks want to come back.
Alex said, “I wish I could offer you something, but I just don’t have the budget for it.”
Rose said, “Those muffins you’ve been buying are pretty pricey. Maybe you could cut back on them and bring me on part-time. I work cheap and hard.”
Alex said, “I really am sorry, but it’s not that simple. Our guests expect their continental breakfast, it’s part of what we offer here. Tell you what, I’ll keep you in mind if we ever decide to increase our staff.”
