by Tim Myers
“I don’t know,” Alex answered as he hurried toward the sound of the scream. It was coming from the unfinished shell of the new Main Keeper’s Quarters. Though there was a ball of fear growing in his gut, Alex hoped it was just another snake sighting, but somehow he knew this time it was more than that.
There were screams, and then there were screams.
Alex saw Rachel Seabock trembling as he neared the shell of the structure, but his gaze was only on her for a second.
Someone had skewered Jefferson Lee through the chest with a shaft of cold, black iron, staking him to the thick pine timber of the new building like a butterfly on a pin.
“Oh, no,” Shantara gasped as she ran up beside Alex. “This is horrible.”
Alex touched her arm gently. “You don’t need to see this. Why don’t you take Rachel back to the inn.”
It took Alex and Shantara a full minute to get Rachel to go with them. She was obviously still in shock, deathly silent after her piercing scream.
Shantara said softly, “I can’t believe someone killed Jefferson Lee.” With a quaver in her voice, she added, “I hate to do this, but I don’t have any choice. Alex; I’ve got to cancel the fair.”
He knew that Shantara had staked everything she had on the success of the Golden Days Fair, mortgaging her country store in the hopes of a big payoff.
Alex said, “Don’t do anything rash, Shantara. Let me call Sheriff Armstrong. If we’re lucky, he won’t have to shut you down.”
As the three of them walked toward the inn, Alex called out to Bill Yadkin. The young blacksmith joined them, looking uncomfortably at Rachel. For once she didn’t even seem to notice him standing there.
Alex said, “I need you to stand guard over the new building. Someone’s killed Jefferson Lee, and I don’t want anybody messing around with the evidence until Sheriff Armstrong gets here.”
Was it Alex’s imagination, or did Yadkin look unsurprised by the news of Jefferson’s death?
He didn’t have time to think about it at the moment, but the blacksmith’s expression unsettled him.
Alex found Sheriff Armstrong at the first place he phoned. The sheriff loved Buck’s Grill more than just about any place on Earth. Alex often found him there, parked on the stool by the door, greeting customers and campaigning in his never-ending battle to get reelected.
Alex cut through the small talk that started just about every conversation in Elkton Falls. “We’ve got a body out at Hatteras West, Sheriff.”
“Murder?” the sheriff asked.
“I’m afraid there’s no doubt about it this time,” Alex acknowledged.
“I’ll be right there,” Armstrong said. “No sirens this time, Alex. I promise.”
The sheriff had won his last reelection by the narrowest of margins over the town barber, and Alex had found him a changed man. Gone was the blustery posturing and the officious manner, replaced by a constant effort to always do better, knowing that he was serving by the skin of his teeth.
“Hurry,” Alex said as he hung up the phone.
“Alex?”
He hadn’t even heard Elise behind him.
She asked, “Did I hear you right? Has someone been murdered?”
Alex nodded glumly. “Somebody killed Jefferson Lee at the construction site.”
“Oh, no.”
“We’ll get through this,” Alex said. “I’d better get out there and help Bill Yadkin make sure no one disturbs the crime scene.”
“There’s no doubt in your mind it was murder?” she asked, a thread of hope lingering in her voice.
“Sorry, there’s no doubt at all,” Alex said. “Somebody pinned him to one of the posts with a steel shaft.”
“I’m coming with you,” she said doggedly.
Alex paused a moment, then said, “Thanks for the offer, but I need you at the front desk, Elise.” His real motivation was sparing her from seeing the body. There was no need for her to share the nightmares he’d be having when he finally closed his eyes.
He was surprised by how readily she agreed.
As Alex made his way across the grounds to the new building, he couldn’t help wondering why murder had come back to Hatteras West. He looked up at the lighthouse beacon, a constant presence that he never took for granted.
Surely the sentinel had seen the crime and the killer as well.
If only the lighthouse could talk.
Bill Yadkin didn’t have anything to say as he and Alex waited for the sheriff, though Alex tried to draw him out several times. The oddest thing was that the young blacksmith kept his back to the body, while it seemed that everyone else was closing in for a better look at the last remains of Jefferson Lee.
As good as his word, Sheriff Armstrong showed up on the scene less than fifteen minutes later, his siren silent all the way.
Armstrong, his uniform bulging from his girth, asked as he looked up at the lighthouse, “Am I going to have to climb those infernal steps again?” Irene Wilkins, the sheriff’s cousin who acted as the town beautician and resident crime-scene expert, got out of the other side of the patrol car with her investigation kit tucked under one arm.
Alex said, “No climbing this time. It happened in the middle of my new construction. Sorry to drag you out here, Irene.”
The older woman shrugged. “It’s not a problem, Alex. I don’t have a perm scheduled until eleven, so I’m free till then.”
Armstrong said, “Let’s go see what happened.”
Alex led them to the building site. Nearly all of the exhibitors and guests at the inn had gathered near the new construction to get a look.
Armstrong said in a mighty voice, “Nothing to see here, folks. Move along so we can begin our investigation.”
The group broke up reluctantly, and Armstrong nodded to Irene. “Why don’t you go ahead and get started.”
She already had her camera out and was taking pictures of the body and the area around it.
Yadkin came up to Alex and said, “If you don’t need me anymore, I’ve got to bank my fire. I guess this means we’re shutting down.”
“You bet your hat it does, son,” Armstrong said.
Alex said, “Let’s not be hasty, Sheriff. Technically, this area isn’t even a part of the fair.”
“Now Alex, I’ve got a responsibility to the town to solve this murder. It’s gonna have to take priority over Shantara’s fair.”
Alex said, “Sheriff, there’s got to be a way to keep the fair open. You know as well as I do how much Shantara has riding on this.”
Armstrong bristled. “It can’t be helped, Alex. I’m not about to let a thousand people walk around the crime scene. We have to secure the area.”
Alex called out to the beautician, “Irene? How much time do you need before you release the area?”
She lowered her camera, looked around the construction site for a good thirty seconds, then said, “Give me an hour, tops. I’ll need help getting that steel out of him after I dust it for prints, not that it’s going to do any good. The metal’s rough and unpolished; I doubt I’ll get a thing from it. If we call the wagon now to come get him, we’ll have this part of it wrapped up well before the fair starts.”
Armstrong cut off Alex’s next words before he even had the chance to speak. “I’m not having it, do you hear me? This is too important, Alex.”
Alex said evenly, “Sheriff, look at it this way. If you shut the fair down, you’re going to lose most of your suspects. You can’t just keep them here all weekend without some kind of justification. But if you keep the fair going, you’ll know where every one of them is. That way, you can interview them at your own pace. You can cordon off the building site if you want, just in case. Keeping this fair alive has got to be the best alternative for everybody involved.”
Armstrong seemed to think about it for a full minute before he looked at Irene and said, “Are you sure you’ll be done in time? I don’t want you rushing on account of the fair.”
“I said I’d be done in plen
ty of time, didn’t I? Believe me, in an hour there won’t be anything else to learn at this crime scene.” Irene was rightfully smug about her abilities. She’d recently won a state competition for the thoroughness of her work, something that had galled many of the full-time investigators who’d competed for the prize.
Armstrong seemed to take forever to finally make up his mind, but ultimately he nodded his agreement. “Okay, but I’m going to need a few conditions. I want to post one man right here to watch over the scene during the fair. Agreed?”
“Fine by me.” Alex didn’t really want a deputy standing around, but if it would make the sheriff happy to have one of his men on site, it was little enough to deal with.
Armstrong said, “The other thing is, I’ll need a room to interview my suspects in.”
“Sheriff, every room I’ve got is booked right now. There’s not an empty spot in the inn.”
“Then I’m just going to have to—”
Alex cut the sheriff off, knowing what was coming next. “But you can have my office. Will that do?”
“I guess it will have to,” Armstrong said grudgingly. The sheriff knew firsthand how small Alex’s office was.
“Thanks, Sheriff,” Alex said, slapping Armstrong on the back. “You’re doing the right thing.”
“I just hope I don’t regret it later.”
Alex nodded his agreement. He’d never say it out loud, but he found himself hoping for the very same thing.
Shantara and Elise met him at the door before he even had the chance to get inside the inn.
“What did he say?” Shantara asked, the resignation heavy in her voice. “He’s shutting me down, isn’t he?”
“The fair can go on,” Alex reported.
It took a moment for his words to sink in.
Shantara said haltingly, “I can’t believe it. What did you say to him?”
“I just pointed out that if he shut you down, he’d lose most of his suspects. Shantara, it won’t do anybody any good if the fair’s canceled. Armstrong could see that.”
Shantara said, “Alex, I don’t know how I can ever thank you.”
“Just go out there and make it a success.”
“Aren’t you two coming?” Shantara asked as she headed for the door.
“We’ll try to come out later, but we’ve still got an inn to run.”
“And I’ve still got my fair!”
After Shantara was gone, Elise said, “Alex, I don’t know how you did it, but you saved the day.”
“All Armstrong needed was to see things objectively.”
Elise said, “Now that you’ve taken care of that, what are we going to do about this murder?”
“We’re going to let Sheriff Armstrong handle it,” Alex said firmly.
From the look in Elise’s eyes, Alex could see that she didn’t believe him, not for one second.
Chapter 3
Alex tried to clean off the pile of papers on top of his desk before the sheriff started his interviews. He was still working when Armstrong came to the door with Shantara not far behind. Evidently, she was first on the sheriff’s list of suspects, something that surprised Alex.
“Let me just get this out of the way,” he said as he opened the top drawer of his desk and shoved the rest of the bills inside.
Alex was about to leave when Shantara asked, “Alex, is there any way you could stay for this?”
Armstrong said, “Now, Ms. Robinson, this is just a preliminary interview. Having Alex here isn’t going to do you any good; he’s not a lawyer.”
“No, but he’s a friend, and I can use all of those I can get right now.”
Alex said, “Shantara, I don’t know what I can do, but if the sheriff doesn’t mind, I’d be glad to stay. But honestly, maybe you’d better call a lawyer.”
“I don’t need one, not if you’re here with me.”
Put that way, Sheriff Armstrong had little choice but to let Alex stay. They’d worked together often enough in the past, albeit reluctantly at times.
Alex felt strange seeing Sheriff Armstrong sitting behind his desk, Shantara across from him. There was no room for a third chair in the small space, so Alex leaned against the rich, honeyed pine wall.
The sheriff pulled out a small notebook and said, “First of all, where were you last night?”
Shantara looked surprised by the question. “I was home asleep. Where were you?”
Armstrong frowned. “Now, Ms. Robinson, you won’t do yourself any good by having an attitude with me.”
Alex said, “Sheriff, where else would you expect her to be? And why should it matter where she was last night?”
“My investigator just informed me that the time of death was most likely sometime between midnight and four a.m.” The sheriff added, “Alex, I’ve agreed to let you sit in, but you’re going to have to keep your comments and questions to yourself if you want to stay.”
“Sorry,” Alex said contritely. He didn’t believe for one second that Shantara was guilty of murdering Jefferson Lee. She had too much to lose, even granting the wildly remote possibility that anything could push her to such a desperate act.
Armstrong nodded once, then said, “Ms. Robinson, can anyone verify that you were home last night?”
Shantara said, “Are you asking me if I’m sleeping with anybody at the moment, Sheriff?”
Armstrong blustered, “Now, ordinarily, that would be none of my business. I don’t much care what grown, consenting folks do behind closed doors, but I’m trying to see if you’ve got any kind of alibi for the murder.”
Shantara shook her head. “I’m sorry to say that I sleep alone these days, Sheriff.”
Armstrong pushed on. “Did you make any calls or get any during those hours? Can anybody verify you were home?”
“I turned off the ringer on my phone and put the answering machine on last night. I was whipped from moving the fair yesterday at the last minute, and to be honest with you, I’d just about had my share of people for the day.”
Armstrong wrote something else in his notebook, then said, “Okay, let’s move on. Did you have any reason to kill Jefferson Lee?”
Alex had a tough time keeping his mouth shut. The very nature of the crime most likely cleared Shantara in his mind. He doubted she’d have the physical strength to skewer the blacksmith, even if she had motive enough to do it.
Shantara said calmly, “I knew him, but I had no reason to want him dead. Even if I were going to kill him, why would I do it at my own fair? I’ve got everything riding on this, Sheriff.”
That was a point Alex had wondered about himself.
Armstrong said evenly, “Maybe you weren’t thinking clearly. He goaded you into a rage, and you killed him. If it was self-defense, I’m sure we can work something out.”
“I work out at Tracy’s Gym sometimes, but I’m not that strong.” Shantara turned to Alex. “You saw how he was pinned to that post. Do you think I could possibly do that?”
Remembering Armstrong’s warning, Alex merely shook his head.
“Alex, I warned you—”
Shantara interrupted. “He didn’t say a word, just like you told him.”
Armstrong studied Alex a second, then turned back to Shantara. “Have you ever seen the metal rod that was used to kill Jefferson Lee?”
“I’ve seen a dozen of them, Sheriff.”
“Where?” Armstrong asked as he sat up abruptly in the chair.
Shantara said reluctantly, “If I don’t tell you, I’m sure somebody else will. That shaft had Bill Yadkin’s swooping curlicue on the end. It’s one of his. There’s no doubt about it.”
It was amazing how fast the sheriff wrapped up the rest of his interview with Shantara. As Armstrong hurried out the door, he said, “You’re free to go for now, Ms. Robinson, but don’t leave town.”
After the sheriff rushed out, Shantara said wearily, “I hate sending him after Bill Yadkin, but he was bound to find out sooner or later.”
“It’s
not your fault, Shantara.” Alex had recognized the distinctive pattern on the shaft as well, but he’d refrained from telling Armstrong about it until he had a chance to talk more with the young blacksmith himself. Knowing Yadkin’s gruff nature, it would be all too easy for the sheriff to take his responses as hostility, and Armstrong did not respond well to attitude from anyone.
In less than two minutes, Armstrong was towing the young blacksmith into Alex’s office.
“I need some privacy for this interview,” Armstrong said. “You’re both going to have to clear out.”
Alex tried to protect Yadkin as best he could. “Do you want me to get you a lawyer?” he asked before the door could close. Alex’s former girlfriend Sandra Beckett was the only lawyer in Elkton Falls he knew well enough to call, but he didn’t want the young blacksmith intimidated into saying something he shouldn’t.
Yadkin snapped, “I’ve got nothing to hide. I hated the snake, and everybody knows it.”
Armstrong’s eyes lit up as he pushed Alex and Shantara out of the office.
“This is not good,” Shantara said plaintively. “What are we going to do?”
There was only one real choice in Alex’s mind.
He had to call Sandra, whether Yadkin wanted her or not.
Sandra’s secretary put him through immediately. The lawyer said, “What’s up, Alex? I’m buried under a mountain of paperwork at the moment.”
Alex said, “I wouldn’t bother you if it weren’t important. Bill Yadkin’s in trouble. Sheriff Armstrong is interviewing him right now about the murder of Jefferson Lee, and I’m afraid he’s going to say something he shouldn’t.”
Sandra shifted gears quickly. “I heard about the murder a few minutes ago.” It always amazed Alex how fast news traveled in the small town on the kudzu vine, faster than any gossip’s grapevine in the world.
Sandra asked pointedly, “Why does the sheriff think he’s guilty?”
“A shaft of iron with Yadkin’s trademark on it was used to kill Lee, and I just heard Yadkin tell the sheriff that he hated the man’s guts.”
“Don’t let him say another word, Alex. I’ll be out there in seven minutes.”
Rachel burst into the inn as Alex was hanging up the telephone. “Where are they? I just heard the sheriff hauled Bill away.”
