by Tim Myers
“A murder in the lighthouse? My God, why didn’t you tell me? I’m not staying another night in this place!”
Elise kept her voice calm and soothing. “We’re all upset about it, but there’s no sense in panicking. We don’t even know if the murderer is still around.”
Miss Halloway jumped from her chair, stormed down the hall and disappeared into her room. Alex retrieved the sheriff. “Looks like she’d rather see ghosts than hear about dead bodies.”
Armstrong frowned. “I’m sorry I spooked your guest, Alex. I just had to get back up there before anybody had a chance to tamper with any possible evidence.”
Alex patted the man on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. She’s right, you know. I should have already told everyone staying here about Reg’s death. I’ll take care of that first thing in the morning. I sure hope nothing else happens tonight.”
Alex turned to Elise. “At the rate we’re losing guests, we may have to shut down Hatteras West before this is all over. You might be out of job before you even get started.”
Elise moved over to the teapot and poured cups for Alex, Armstrong and herself. She took a sip, then said, “I’m not ready to give up just yet. I’ve got a stubborn streak a mile wide.”
Alex was relieved to hear that Elise was willing to stay.
The sheriff said, “Well, I’d better be moving along. I think I’ll offer your guest a police escort out of here. She shouldn’t be driving in this fog if she’s not used to the roads. After the scare I gave her back there, it’s the least I can do.”
Alex smiled. “Thanks, Sheriff. From the look on her face, you shouldn’t have long to wait.”
True to Alex’s prediction, ninety seconds later Elizabeth Halloway stomped down the hallway toward Alex and Elise. Alex decided to take the offensive. “The sheriff is waiting to make sure you get into town safely. Don’t worry about the rest of your bill. We’ll consider your last two nights as compliments of Hatteras West.”
She looked flustered by Alex’s generosity, and without uttering another word, Elizabeth Halloway flung the door open and stormed out into the foggy night, Armstrong close behind her.
Elise chided him gently after they were gone. “Shame on you, Alex. You stole that poor woman’s thunder.”
Alex grinned. “Thanks for your help. You really are good with people, you know that?”
“It’s a part of being an innkeeper. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll say good-night.”
“Good-night,” he called out
After she was gone, Alex went through his nightly routine of checking the inn to be sure that all was as it should be.
It was still hard to believe that Reg was dead.
Chapter 8
By the time Alex woke up the next morning, the fog had burned off in the early morning sunshine; it looked like another beautiful day.
He found Elise mopping the front lobby as he came out of his room. Alex said, “Good morning. You’re getting an early start, aren’t you?”
Her smile was warm and genuine when she looked up from her work. “I’m just about finished. I like getting a jump on the day. Didn’t Marisa ever clean this beautiful wooden floor?”
“If she did, I never caught her at it.”
Elise stopped working and walked over to Alex. “What do you do about breakfast around here?”
Alex said, “There’s a kitchenette tucked in the back of my room. I’ve got eggs, milk and cereal; you’re welcome to whatever you want.”
Elise took a few final passes with the mop, then said, “Lead me to it.”
Alex was thankful he’d made his bed and straightened his room. It was probably silly, but he didn’t want his new maid to think that he was a messy housekeeper.
Elise headed straight to the kitchen and started rummaging through his meager pantry.
Alex said, “Marisa and I usually ate in shifts so somebody could be at the front desk. That’s where I’ll be if you need me.”
Elise brought her head out of the cabinet long enough to say, “Have you eaten yet?”
“You don’t have to worry about me. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.”
She said, “It’s no trouble. Alex, it’s as easy to make an omelet for two as it is for one.”
“You convinced me. I need to have a conversation with one of our guests, then I’ll be in need of a hearty meal.”
Elise frowned slightly. “Is there anyone left who doesn’t know about Reg’s death?”
“The one I’ve been dreading telling the most: Barb Matthews. I can’t imagine how she’s going to take the news. You know, I’m starting to have second thoughts about anyone staying here right now. The more I think about it, the less I like the idea of any of my guests being in jeopardy just because I want to make a few dollars. I’m going to do my level best without actually throwing them out to see if anybody will consider leaving the inn, at least until the murder is solved.” Alex excused himself and headed over to Barb Matthews’s room. Before he could knock on the door, he heard Sheriff Armstrong calling his name out front.
Back in the lobby, Alex asked, “Don’t you have any other crimes to investigate around here?”
Armstrong said, “Not like this one. I need to interview your guests this morning. Do you want me to interrogate them on my own, or would you like to come with me?”
Alex shuddered at the thought of imposing on his guests anymore, but he knew the sheriff was right. He only wondered why the man hadn’t interviewed them yesterday.
Alex said, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to be with you when you talk to my guests. By the way, did Miss Halloway get out of town all right?”
Armstrong grinned slightly. “You don’t have to worry about her. I interviewed her last night over a piece of pie and a cup of coffee.”
“Mixing business with pleasure, Sheriff?”
Armstrong shrugged as he said, “I figured it was the only way I could get her story. That’s the official version, anyway.”
Alex said, “We may as well get started. Anybody in particular you’d like to speak to first?”
The sheriff thought about it for a moment before replying. “The son, I think. He seems the most likely suspect to me. You’re close to this, Alex. What do you think?”
Finally, the sheriff was asking his advice. “I believe Junior’s an excellent place to start. Let me tell you what I found out yesterday.”
Alex told the sheriff about Junior’s alibi and the pristine state of his clothes as the two men walked to Junior’s new room. Alex had moved the son promptly to a spot in the annex away from his father’s old room. That left the main house empty at the moment, and Alex had a sudden twinge of regret for his steadily decreasing bank balance.
It took four knocks to bring Junior Wellington to the door. Junior had managed to throw on a robe, but Alex could see he was still dressed in a pair of heavy flannel pajamas.
“What can I do for you, Alex? I don’t remember requesting a wake-up call.”
Armstrong stepped around Alex and entered the room uninvited. “My name’s Armstrong. I’m the sheriff for Canawba County. I’d like to discuss a few things with you about your father.”
Junior suddenly looked wide awake. “Did you find out who killed him?”
“The investigation is ongoing.”
After Alex stepped inside, Armstrong closed the door and leaned against it as if he were cutting off Junior’s escape route.
The sheriff said, “Where were you yesterday afternoon between the hours of three and five?”
Junior pointed to Alex. “I already told him. I was hiking the loop trail all afternoon.”
“And could I possibly see the clothes you were wearing on your little hike?”
Junior bristled at the suggestion. “Really, Sheriff, I don’t see why it’s any business of yours what I had on yesterday afternoon. What possible relevance could that have to my father’s murder?”
“You don’t have to cooperate, but I’ll
be glad to get a warrant and search your room anyway. Now, are you going to help me find your father’s murderer, or are you going to get in my way?”
“Of course I want to find out who did it.” Junior turned and started rummaging in a pile of clothes at the base of his closet. After picking out a pair of pants and matching shirt that looked somewhat familiar to Alex, he turned back to the two men.
Armstrong took the clothes and started examining them closely. Alex could see from his vantage point that the back of the pants and one cuff of the shirt had grass stains and smudges of dirt that he was sure hadn’t been there the day before.
Alex stepped in. “Are you sure this is what you were wearing yesterday?”
“I know my own clothes.”
Armstrong shot Alex a withering look before speaking to Junior again. “On this hike, did anyone happen to see you?”
“I think I’m beginning to see where you’re going with this. Surely you don’t think I murdered my own father?”
The sheriff puffed out his chest. “Don’t act so surprised; it happens all the time. Why don’t you humor me? I repeat, did anyone see you while you were out on the trail?”
“Besides a few squirrels and a couple of mockingbirds, no one. Wait a minute, that’s not quite true. I happened upon a curious little woman scurrying along the path.”
“Will she verify seeing you?”
Junior frowned. “I don’t think so. She was so absorbed in her walk that she never looked my way. I was slightly embarrassed having been caught napping, so I remained silent while she passed me.”
Armstrong said, “So you don’t have an alibi. You’re not planning to leave the inn any time soon, are you Mr. Wellington?”
Junior’s back stiffened. “Not until my father’s murderer is found.”
Armstrong took the clothes Junior had claimed to have worn and started for the door.
“Where are you going with my things?”
“They’re possible evidence, Mr. Wellington. You’ll get them back after we’ve had a good look at them.”
Armstrong and Alex walked out of the room. Once the door was closed, the sheriff started in on Alex. “Clean outfit? Do you see these grass stains?”
Alex protested, “I’m telling you, he either pulled out the wrong clothes or he added the stains later. That outfit was clean when I saw him in it yesterday.”
Armstrong folded the clothes up, tucked them under his arm, then pointed to the next door. “Who’s in here?”
“That’s where the recently departed Miss Halloway was staying.”
“Don’t worry about her. I know where I can reach her if I need to. Who else is still staying at the inn?”
They moved to the next room across the hall. “The main quarters are empty, everyone’s in the annex at the moment.” Alex dreaded interrupting the occupant in room 6. He was sure Barb Matthews would not be pleased by the two men’s questions.
There was no reply to their knocking.
Armstrong said, “Open it up anyway.”
“Sheriff, my guests have a certain right to privacy in my inn.”
Armstrong paused for thought. Abruptly, he said, “Did you hear that?”
“What? I didn’t hear anything.”
The sheriff said, “Alex, I could have sworn I heard someone cry out for help. Open the door.”
Alex groaned softly as he opened the door with his pass key. His hands were shaking at the thought of catching the old woman coming out of the shower. She would probably sue him for his last dime, which was what he was just about down to.
The room was blessedly empty.
Alex whispered, “What are we looking for?”
Armstrong said, “We’re not looking for anything. We were standing in the hallway and we thought we heard someone calling for help.”
Alex had to agree that the logic would probably hold up if they were discovered in the room. “You do your search. I think I’ll go get her some fresh towels.”
Alex went down the hall and peeked his head into his own room. It looked like Elise was just finishing up her breakfast preparations.
Alex said, “That smells wonderful. What is it?”
“The Elise Danton Western Omelet. I hope you’re hungry. I got carried away and made enough for three.”
“That’s good. We’ll probably have to feed Sheriff Armstrong, too.”
Alex quickly brought her up to date on what had happened. “Don’t worry about Junior’s clothes. When I clean his room, I’ll snoop around a little. In the meantime, why don’t you retrieve the sheriff and I’ll set another place at the table.”
Alex did just that, finding the sheriff closing the door to the Matthews woman’s room as he entered the hallway. It was just as well. He’d forgotten to get fresh towels from the linen closet anyway. Alex said, “Find anything?”
Armstrong jumped a foot in the air. “You’ve got to quit sneaking up on people like that. It’s going to get you in trouble one of these days.”
Alex bit his lip to keep a smile from showing. “Was there anything in there worthwhile?”
“Nothing but a pile of rocks. Crazy, huh?”
Alex laughed. “Sheriff, I’ve yet to meet a ‘normal’ guest at this inn. We attract the unusual types. I had one guest who collected nothing but gravel because he thought the color was pretty. I’ve uncovered hordes of pinecones, branches, even old bottles. What surprises me is so many of the guests don’t take their ‘finds’ with them. I could build a rock garden just with the stones I haul out of my guest rooms every season.” The sheriff’s stomach rumbled noticeably, and Alex asked, “Have you had your breakfast yet?”
Armstrong patted his big belly. “I had a quick meal, but I could always use another bite. What’d you have in mind?”
“Elise is fixing an omelet in my room, and she’s made more than enough for you to join us.”
Armstrong raised one eyebrow. “I’d be pleased to join you, if three’s not a crowd.”
Alex let a little of his ire enter his voice. “It’s not a date, Armstrong, it’s breakfast. Eat or not, suit yourself.”
As the two of them walked toward Alex’s room, the sheriff asked, “Is that what you two were doing last night at Mamma Ravolini’s?”
“It was business,” Alex said sternly. That was one of the problems with small towns. Everybody made it a point to know what everybody else was doing. Alex didn’t dignify the question with any more of an explanation than that.
The smells coming out of his room were pure ambrosia to the bachelor chef, and quite out of the ordinary compared with his usual breakfast—a bowl of cold cereal.
One of the game tables in the lobby had been set up like it belonged in a fine restaurant. Elise had found a tablecloth in the linen closet and had even adorned the center of the small table with some wildflowers she found outside.
Elise said, “Why don’t you two go ahead and sit down. I’ll have everything ready in a minute.”
As the three of them ate, they discussed everything but Reg’s murder, though the unspoken topic hung over their thoughts like gravid black clouds.
Alex noticed that, though it was the sheriff’s second breakfast, there was nothing left on the man’s plate but a hazy shine.
For a second it looked like the sheriff was going to loosen his belt another notch. He leaned back in his chair instead and said, “Ma’am, that was the best omelet I’ve ever had. You ought to open up your own restaurant.”
Elisa smiled slightly. “I believe I’ve found an appreciative audience at last.”
“It really was delicious, Elise. Thank you,” Alex added.
Armstrong pushed himself away from the small table and said, “I hate to eat and run, Elise, but I’ve got a murder to solve.”
Alex watched as the sheriff got up and headed back toward the guest rooms. He lingered over his coffee until the sheriff asked pointedly, “Aren’t you coming?”
Alex said, “To be honest with you, I’ve lost my taste for
it. Do you really need me?”
“Your guests are bound to be a little more cooperative if they see the hotel owner with me. Besides, if they aren’t in, I’d like a quick peek into their rooms. I can’t do that without you and your key.”
Alex reluctantly caught up with Armstrong as he headed toward the next occupied room. This one belonged to Emma Sturbridge.
Chapter 9
Alex said, “I keep telling you, Sheriff, Mrs. Sturbridge just arrived last night. She can’t possibly know anything about Reg’s murder.”
“Why don’t we talk to her anyway? She may have seen something on her way in.”
Alex knocked a final time before using his pass key to enter the room. There was no sign of the woman anywhere. As he had suspected, Emma Sturbridge kept her belongings neat and orderly. He could usually tell after meeting his guests for the first time what kind of tenants they’d be.
“Wonder where she’s off to?”
Alex turned to the sheriff. “She’s another rockhound. Where do you think?”
Armstrong let the gibe pass and pivoted out of the room. “Who’s next on your list?”
“Joel Grandy.”
“Is he another one of your harmless guests?”
Alex had to admit he wasn’t sure, as he shared his
observation of the chess argument with the sheriff. Armstrong looked pleased. “Finally, another legitimate suspect. Unlock the door.”
Alex ignored the sheriff and knocked loudly first. Grandy swung the door open before Alex had a chance to rap a second time.
“What can I do for you gentlemen? I was just getting ready to go into town.”
Armstrong stepped deftly in front of Alex and took over the interview. “I’m investigating the murder of Reg Wellington. I understand the two of you had words the night before last about a chess game.”
Grandy looked directly at Alex as he spoke. “I already explained the incident to my host.”
Alex lifted his hands in apology to the man. He hated passing gossip on to Armstrong, but his friend had been murdered, and he was determined to find the killer. It was no time to be concerned with good manners. Armstrong continued. “Why don’t you go over it for me. Tell me why you two nearly came to blows.”
