by Tim Myers
Alex said, “You said you’d found out a few things about the murder and the theft.”
The sheriff nodded. “Okay, let’s start with Cliff. Apart from an ex-wife nobody in the county knows, the man led a pretty ordinary life, up until six months ago.”
“What changed?” Alex asked.
“All of a sudden he started staying out late and coming home a mess. Melissa Henderson kept better tabs on him than the FBI. Help me from ever having neighbors like her! I went to interview her and ended up staying three hours. I’m amazed she didn’t have pictures! The woman keeps a log on all her neighbors, if you can imagine. She said it was better than watching television.”
“When you say a mess, what do you mean?”
“She said he was covered in dirt, like he’d been wallowing in the mud. There’s a streetlight outside his place, so she’s positive about what she saw. And then there were his visitors.”
“Did she spot anybody she knew?” Alex asked.
“No, they always came on foot after dark and they seemed to know how to skirt the streetlight, but she said they looked like they were up to no good. I’m not sure if it means anything, Melissa has a pretty active imagination.”
“What did you find when you searched his house?”
The sheriff said, “Nothing that struck me as all that odd, but I was wondering if you might want to have a look yourself before his cousin comes for his stuff. He was Cliff’s only heir.”
There was nothing Alex would like more than to nose around Cliff’s apartment. “I can do it tomorrow afternoon right after my rooms are clean.”
“By then it will be too late. His cousin’s coming first thing in the morning. I was kind of hoping you could come with me now.”
Alex said, “Let me talk to Elise. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
He found his head, and only, housekeeper at his desk going through a stack of bills that had just arrived. “Hi, Alex.” There must have been something on his face that gave him away. “What’s up?”
“I need a few hours. Can you handle the inn?”
“You know I can. Has this got something to do with your talk with the sheriff?”
Alex said, “He’s giving me the chance to look over Cliff’s house, but it has to be now.”
“Any chance I could go with you?” she asked. “Somebody needs to stay here and watch over the inn,” Alex said reluctantly. “We have three sets of guests coming in any time. Do you mind?”
“Hey, you’re the boss,” Elise said evenly.
“You know what? Come with me. I’ll clear it with Armstrong. We can put up a self-serve sign.”
“No, I don’t mind staying behind.”
Alex said, “Really, it’s okay.”
She smiled softly. “Just knowing that you want me there is enough. You’re right, we need to take care of our guests, especially with as many new arrivals as we have coming in. Don’t worry; I’ve got things under control here. But I do expect a full report when you get back.”
“Thanks,” he said, trying not to shake his head as he walked out. As well as he thought he knew her, sometimes Elise’s reaction to things still surprised him. She really had gotten the snooping bug from him.
Armstrong was waiting in the patrol car when Alex came out. He said, “I thought you got lost in your own inn.”
“Something came up,” Alex said.
“You’re good to go, right?”
Alex nodded. “I’m ready.”
Once they were there, Armstrong opened Cliff’s door for Alex, taking time to wave at Melissa Henderson across the street. “How much you want to bet our little visit is going in the log,” the sheriff said.
“She gives a whole new meaning to neighborhood watch, doesn’t she?”
“I think she wants me to make her an honorary deputy,” Armstrong said as he shut the door behind them. Alex walked through the small place, not knowing just what he was searching for, hoping he’d know it when he saw it. The house was immaculate. There were barely any signs that someone had ever lived there, with the exception of a few pictures on the bedroom dresser. Alex saw a figure carefully cut out of a couple of the group shots, and he pointed it out to Armstrong.
“Yeah, I noticed that. My guess is it was his ex-wife. From what I’ve heard, their break-up was a bad one.”
“Have you talked to her personally?” Alex asked as he put the frame back.
“No, I’m having trouble tracking her down. Alex, they busted up four years ago. You honestly think she waited that long to go after him, and that she happened to have a fake emerald on her to boot? No, I’ve got to believe Cliff was killed because he was guarding the emerald, not because of anything that happened in his life.”
“So why are we here, if you feel that way?”
Armstrong rubbed his chin. “I figured it couldn’t hurt, just in case, you know? You’ve spotted stuff before.”
Alex nodded, amazed that the sheriff was openly acknowledging the help he’d given him in the past. Of course, when there were no witnesses around, the sheriff could be quite lavish in his praise, but if a voter was within shouting distance, the compliments trickled down to nothing.
Alex looked in the closet, and took special care to examine the boots there. They were buffed to a high sheen without a trace of dirt or grass anywhere on them. Cliff’s dirty-clothes hamper in the bathroom was empty, and Alex figured the man must have just done his laundry before coming to work at the inn the day he died. On the shelves in the living room there were books that covered the gamut from geology to topography, field books on southern forests, meteorology, and star charts. There wasn’t a work of fiction in sight. It appeared that Cliff was hooked on natural science, something Alex never would have guessed from his brief acquaintance with the man.
Alex opened the cabinets in the kitchen and found a bachelor’s stock of cereal and potato chips, but not much else. There were a few packets of frozen food in the freezer and a spoiled quart of milk in the refrigerator. It appeared that Cliff ate out a lot. Alex would have to talk to Buck and it Sally Anne at Buck’s Grill to see how well they knew the guard. After all, Cliff had to eat somewhere, and Buck’s slit was about it for breakfast around town.
Armstrong asked Alex, “Do you see anything out of the ordinary?”
Alex shook his head. “Sorry, there’s nothing I could see that looked odd.”
Armstrong nodded. “I thought as much, but it was worth a shot. Thanks for coming by. Let me run you back to the inn.”
Alex said, “Tell you what, why don’t you drop me off at Buck’s Grill? I’ll grab a ride back from there.”
Armstrong said, “It’s too late for lunch and not time for supper yet.”
“I feel like a piece of peach cobbler,” Alex said. Though it was true that Sally Anne made the best cobbler around, it wasn’t the only reason he wanted to go to Buck’s. There was something about Cliff’s place that bothered him. Maybe if he talked to the crew at the diner, he might uncover enough to discover what it was.
Chapter 14
Alex was glad he’d lucked into visiting at a time when the diner was nearly empty. He was approaching the bar where he usually ate when he was by himself when Sally Anne met him at his stool.
“I’m surprised to see you here during the day,” Sally Anne said.
“I had to come by for some of your peach cobbler. Please tell me you made a fresh batch today.”
“Peaches aren’t in season,” Sally Anne said.
Buck poked his head out the order window and said, “Sally Anne, I need to see you back here.”
Sally Anne wanted to ignore the summons, Alex could see it in her posture and her eyes, but she knew better than to cross her dad.
Though they kept their voices low, Alex caught a word now and then, just enough for him to realize that Buck was not pleased with his only child, and not afraid of expressing it at all.
Sally Anne came out through the swinging door thirty seconds later with a hea
lthy slice of peach cobbler in a bowl. “Did you want ice cream with that?”
Alex nodded. “That would be great.”
Sally Anne frowned slightly, then returned a minute later with a scoop of vanilla. After dumping it on Alex’s cobbler, she turned to go when Alex said, “Do you have a second? I need your help.”
Alex saw her glance back to the kitchen, then heard her say, “I’ll do what I can.”
Alex had been about to ask her about Cliff, but there was something that had to be taken care of first. “Young lady, I’ve known you since you were knee high to a grasshopper. How long are you going to keep this up?”
Alex saw Buck’s head appear in the window again, but the ex-boxer kept quiet.
“It’s not fair that a stranger even has a chance to take away my business, Alex,” Sally Anne said abruptly. “I had your order first, and you let her swoop in there and steal it from me.”
“Sally Anne, if it was peach cobbler I needed, there’s none better in seven counties than what you make, but I have to do what’s best for my business. Am I sorry that I hurt your feelings? You betcha. Would I do it again? Given the same circumstances, I’m afraid I’d have to. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with your muffins, but it doesn’t look like they’re going to be able to beat Fiona’s. It’s that simple. There’s nothing personal about it.”
Sally Anne threw her dishtowel down. “That’s what gets me, Alex, there’s nothing personal about it. I thought you were our friend.”
Buck started to speak again, but Alex shook his head, and the big man accepted it. Alex was going to have to work this one out on his own if he wanted to keep Sally Anne’s friendship. Alex took one of her hands in his and said, “You know we’re friends, and we always will be. I was kind of hoping it was enough, all this other business aside.”
He thought Sally Anne might pull her hand away, but the two of them had been friends too long, and her stern look gradually dissipated. “As long as you’re sure it’s not about me,” she said.
“Hey, I’m here, aren’t I?”
Sally Anne nodded. “Okay, I’ll get over it. Now what did you want help with?”
Alex said, “That’s going to have to wait one second.” He stuck his spoon into the cobbler, snagging a bit of peach along with the golden flaky crust and the melting ice cream. “Ahh,” he said as he wiped his mouth. “You are a cobbler genius.”
Sally Anne dimpled slightly at the praise. “Okay, enough, we’re good again.” Buck disappeared back behind the window, but Sally Anne still whispered, “What’s going on?”
“Did Cliff, the security guard, eat much with you’all here?”
Sally Anne said, “If you count every breakfast, some lunches and most dinners. I don’t think the man could boil water on his own.”
“What did you know about him?” Alex asked.
“Cliff was a creature of habit. He had the same things for every meal he ate here. Oatmeal and toast for breakfast, grilled cheese and tomato soup for lunch, and country-style steak with gravy, mashed potatoes, cooked apples, and a glass of iced tea for dinner. I don’t know how he faced it every day.”
Alex said, “What about the company he kept? Did he ever eat with anybody in particular?”
Sally Anne shook her head. “He always ate at the bar. If there wasn’t a stool open he’d take a table, but the second someone left, he claimed their spot. I’m sorry I’m not much help.”
Alex said, “Do me a favor, if you think of anything else, let me know.”
“Do you want me to ask around about him?” Sally Anne said.
“No, nothing like that,” Alex said quickly. The last thing he needed was for word to get back to Armstrong that he was continuing his own investigation.
She nodded. “Okay, but I can do more than that. All you have to do is ask.”
Alex thanked her, and as he ate his cobbler, Sally Anne lingered close by to keep him company. He left a tip as big as his bill, but she wouldn’t stand for it. “What’s this?” she said, waving the bills at him.
“Hey, I’d have paid twice that for your cobbler.”
Sally Anne walked around the counter and tucked half the tip back in Alex’s shirt pocket. “Alex Winston, there’s no way in the world I’m going to accept that.”
That was how Alex knew things were back to normal between the two of them. Buck winked through the window as Alex started to go, and he chuckled softly. It felt right being back on good terms with the pair. He’d meant what he’d said, too. There was no business worth his friendship. Speaking of friends, Alex wasn’t all that far from Mor or Les’s repair shop. Maybe he could con his best friend into giving him a ride back out to the inn. If not, Alex was sure he could come up with someone in Elkton Falls willing to give him a ride. That was one of the things he liked best about living in the small town. Folks were always willing to lend a hand.
At the fix-it shop, Alex found the senior partner Les sitting at the workbench, the top of it covered with parts from an odd-looking contraption. The handyman was ignoring it though, his feet propped up among the parts and his head buried in a copy of Modern Candlemaking.
“I didn’t know you made candles,” Alex said, knowing full well that Les Williamson had an addiction to magazines of all sizes and shapes. The school kids of Elkton Falls loved him, knowing that Les was good for at least two subscriptions from every one of them who asked. Alex had actually seen a line of them forming outside the shop the day the fundraiser was announced.
“You have any idea about what goes into making these things?” Les asked, showing Alex an illustrated set of photographs.
“Can’t say that I do.”
“Well sir, it’s tougher than it looks.”
“I don’t doubt it. Is Mor around?”
Les said, “He’d better not be. I’m still behind from his little honeymoon jaunt, so I’ve got him burning up the roads. Now that he’s a married man, he’s not as interested in working as much overtime.”
Alex said, “He’s got a lot to adjust to. Any idea when he’ll be back?”
Les said, “If he doesn’t run out of parts, I don’t expect him till after five. Was he expecting you, Alex?”
“No, I was just dropping in. I need a ride back out to the inn and I thought he could help me.”
Les put his feet on the floor and dropped the magazine to the workbench. “Tell you what, I’ll take you myself.”
Alex said, “I don’t want to keep you from your work, or your reading.”
Les grinned. “I could use the excuse. That dadblasted cream separator is giving me fits. I used to be able to fix them blindfolded and half asleep. I must be losing my touch, even if Carole Gentry brought it to me in a box.”
“If you’re sure you don’t mind, that would be great.”
“Let me grab my keys,” Les said, and Alex waited outside for him to lock up.
Les asked, “What brought you into town without that truck of yours? Don’t tell me, it finally died on you, didn’t it?”
“No sir, it’s running fine. I came in with the sheriff.”
Les nodded. “He’s working hard to solve that murder you had out your way.”
“And the jewel theft, too,” Alex added.
Les shook his head. “The murder’s the splashy crime for him. I doubt the emerald will ever be found.”
Alex noticed the hint of a smile on Les’s face. “You don’t seem too upset by the prospect.”
As they headed toward Hatteras West, Les said, “Reston Shay has been parading that emerald around lately like it was a county fair. Serves him right if he lost it.”
“You’re not his biggest fan, are you?”
Les tapped the steering wheel. “You could say that. He’s a double-dealer and a cheat. Take my advice, Alex, don’t ever play cards with him. He’ll slip your wallet out of your pocket without you feeling a thing. Nobody at that card table saw him cheat, but he had to have. I just couldn’t prove it.”
As they passed
To Dye For, owned by Irene Wilkins, the town forensics expert and its most popular beautician, Rose Lane walked out, a scarf tied tightly around her hair.
“Well, speak of the devil’s handmaids and one of them appears.”
Alex asked, “What are you talking about?”
“You know Rose Lane, don’t you? She’s got a history with Reston herself.”
“I hadn’t heard. Did they ever go out?”
“Reston and Rose? Not that I ever heard about. Now I’m not one to spread idle gossip or rumor, but she left his staff against her will, that much I know.”
Alex said, “I had no idea Rose ever worked for him.”
Les nodded. “She was his housekeeper. I guess you were still a boy, you wouldn’t have any reason to know, but I heard a rumor that there were accusations of a theft that couldn’t be explained away. Rose had a devil’s time getting another job, and she holds a grudge to this day. That’s probably why I’m fond of her myself. Partners in sorrow, that kind of thing.”
As they drove up Point Road, Les looked at the lighthouse. “That overgrown nightlight of yours is really something, Alex. You think Tracy’s going to be able to twist enough arms to get it turned on more than once a year?”
“That was supposed to be a secret. How’d you find out?”
Les said, “Folks will say the darnedest things waiting for an appliance to get fixed. I don’t think they believe I’m listening half the time. Well, sir, here you are, right to your doorstep.”
As Alex got out, he said, “Thanks Les, I appreciate the lift. Do you have time for a cup of coffee?”
He shook his head. “Thanks, but no, I’d better get back to that cream separator before Carole comes looking for me. She’s doing her best to live up to the redhead’s reputation.”
As the elder handyman drove away, Alex marveled that he’d missed the connection between Reston Shay and Rose Lane. He hesitated on the front steps, needing some time to think about it. If she’d been in Reston’s employ, why had Rose come out to the inn to see the Carolina Rhapsody? Wouldn’t she have had the opportunity to see it at Reston’s house? There were rumors that years ago he’d kept it on his desk before getting skittish and moving it to a safety deposit box at the bank. Was Rose the reason he’d become more cautious? Alex was going to have to go to one of his sources in town to get the back story he’d somehow missed. If Les had known more specifics about the accusation, there was no doubt he would have shared them with Alex. He was going to have to see which of his oldest friends might remember what had happened between the housekeeper and her boss.
