by Tim Myers
“I’m fine, Buck. I saw you out running the other day. You can really move.”
“For a guy my age and my size, you mean? I’m in training,” he said with a grin.
“You’re going to fight again?” Alex asked incredulously.
Buck said, “No, I’ve got something more important than that coming up.” He looked at his daughter, then asked, “Can I at least tell him? Alex knows how to keep his mouth shut.”
“Dad, we’re not telling anybody yet. You know that.”
Whatever they were discussing, Alex certainly was intrigued. Buck looked around the diner. “Nobody can hear us. Go on, tell him.”
“I’m getting married,” she said softly.
“Congratulations,” Alex said. “Eric’s a lucky man.”
Sally Anne said, “Alex, I’m sorry about the timing and all. I was going to tell you later.”
Buck put a meaty paw on Alex’s shoulder. “He’s a strong man. Sally Anne, there’s no need to tiptoe around him. Go on, ask him now.”
Sally Anne said, “We were wondering if we could get married at the inn. Alex, it’s such a beautiful place, and you know how much I’ve always loved the lighthouse. You don’t have to decide now; the wedding’s not for another six months. I just wanted to ask,” she tapered her words down to a near whisper at the end.
“I don’t need to think about it. I’d be delighted to have your wedding at Hatteras West.”
Buck lightly slapped his daughter with the towel that was always parked over his shoulder. “See? I told you there was nothing to worry about. I’ve got to get back to the kitchen.” He patted Alex’s arm again. “Thanks. This means a lot to us.”
“Happy to do it,” Alex said as he turned back to his sandwich. The Hatteras West Inn was a perfect place for a wedding, and several townspeople had held their nuptials there. His own mother and father had even married on the grounds, though they’d exchanged their vows from the very top of the lighthouse, something that hadn’t been repeated since. It had severely limited the number of invited guests, and Alex’s mother had always said that had been his father’s main reason for making the request. Alex knew the truth, though. The lighthouse had been as much a part of his dad as it was of him. The Winston men were part of a long line of hopeless romantics, from the lighthouse’s builder all the way down to Alex.
Yes, another wedding would be perfect for Hatteras
West. Alex would never have admitted it to anyone else, but he was already looking forward to it.
He was just finishing his meal when Sandra walked in, a harried look on her face.
Sandra smiled quickly the moment she saw Alex. “Hey there, stranger. How are things at the inn?”
“With the fair over, I’m expecting things to finally slow down.”
She put her briefcase down on the counter, then slipped onto the stool beside him. Whatever her faults, Sandra almost always found a way to make him smile. “Please tell me you’re at least having a piece of pie for dessert. I hate to eat alone.”
“Sandra, I left Mor in charge of the inn three hours ago. I really should be getting back.”
“Come on, Alex,” she said, touching his arm lightly. “Your guests are all gone, and you’ve got to be done with your cleaning for the day. I know you too well. Keep me company. I hate to eat alone.”
Sally Anne was watching the exchange with interest, standing just close enough not to miss a word.
Alex nodded as he finished another fry. “Okay, on one condition. I need a ride to the hospital after we’re done here.”
“Oh, Alex, what’s wrong?”
“I’m fine,” he said, “but I left my truck in the parking lot.”
Clearly she wanted to know why he’d done that, but remarkably, Sandra didn’t ask. “It’s a deal.”
Sally Anne stepped forward, and Sandra said, “I’ll have my regular salad and an iced tea. And bring Alex a piece of apple pie.”
Sally Anne took the order without a word, and Alex wondered if she approved entirely of his sharing counter space with his ex-girlfriend.
Sandra took a long drink of tea, then asked, “So tell me, Alex, how’s your impromptu investigation doing? Have you uncovered the killer yet?”
Alex said, “What makes you think I’m trying to do anything about the murder?”
She laughed brightly. “Oh, come on, Alex, don’t forget who you’re talking to. I know how much you love a good mystery.”
“Right now I’m just trying to keep my head above water. I don’t have much time for sleuthing.”
Sally Anne quietly slipped their food in front of them, and Sandra took a few bites of her salad before replying. “Well, I don’t think Bill Yadkin did it, for what it’s worth, though Armstrong appears to be favoring him. That boy’s temper is going to get him into some serious trouble if he’s not careful. He fired me, you know.”
“Why in the world did he do that?” Alex asked.
“I have no idea, but he’d better hire someone else fast; Armstrong’s baying at the door.”
Alex had to admit he enjoyed sharing the time with Sandra. The new friendship building between them was nice, devoid of the tension they’d shared while dating.
But she wasn’t Elise.
Sandra didn’t reach for Alex’s check as she grabbed hers, something she’d always done when they’d dated. It had underscored how much more she made as a successful lawyer than he did as an innkeeper, and it had bothered him more than he cared to admit.
“Come on, pay your check and let’s go. I’ve got the top down on my convertible,” Sandra said as she headed for the door.
“Are you sure you have to go straight back to the hospital? It’s a beautiful afternoon for a drive.”
“Sorry, Sandra, but I need to get back.” Instead of arguing, she pulled into the hospital parking lot and headed straight for Alex’s truck. The gray Ford was hard to miss.
She stopped in front of his spot, and Alex hopped out. “Thanks for the ride, Sandra.”
She smiled broadly at him. “You’re very welcome. Thanks for keeping me company. Call me, Alex. Any time. No strings, no ulterior motives.”
As she sped away, Alex suddenly felt someone else’s presence nearby.
He normally wasn’t all that jumpy, but as Alex got his car keys out, he felt a tap on his shoulder and promptly dropped his keys on the ground.
When he turned around, the last person on earth he wanted to see was standing right behind him.
Chapter 18
Craig Monroe leaned over and scooped up Alex’s keys before he could grab them himself. Instead of giving them back, Craig enveloped them in his meaty fist. The potter’s strong hands reminded Alex that he’d easily have the strength to dispatch Jefferson Lee.
“There you are. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming back.”
Alex’s eyes scanned the parking lot for some kind of witness, but it was remarkably deserted for that time of day.
“How’s Marilynn doing?”
“Still no change,” Craig grunted. “Alex, I need to talk to you.”
“I’m listening,” Alex said warily.
Craig shook his head. “Not here, it’s a little too public.”
What was he talking about? The parking lot was practically abandoned.
“Craig, I’ve got an inn to run. I’m late as it is, and Mor’s relieving me at the desk. Can I have my keys? I need to go.”
Craig looked surprised that he still had Alex’s keys locked in his fist. He gave them to Alex as he said, “Can I come out to Hatteras West later? It’s important.”
“Okay,” Alex said. Anything to get out of the parking lot. “See you later.”
At least he’d have a chance to prepare for the encounter, and Hatteras West was his own turf. Alex suddenly had a flash of inspiration. He’d get Mor to hang around and back him up, just in case.
When Alex walked back into the inn, Mor was alone at the desk, looking glum.
“You look
like you just lost your best friend,” Alex said.
Instead of the playful retort he expected, Mor muttered, “I don’t want to talk about it.” He stood and grabbed his jacket. “If you don’t need me here anymore, I’m getting hungry.”
Alex said, “To be honest with you, I was kind of hoping you’d be able to hang around. I’m sure I can find something for you in the refrigerator.”
“Sorry, but I’ve got to hit the road.”
Alex said, “Any chance of you coming back later?” He suddenly felt awkward, asking Mor to hang around to protect him.
“No, I need some time to think, Alex. I’ll catch you later.”
It was just as well that Mor couldn’t stay. Alex suddenly felt foolish worrying about the potter. He had no real reason to suspect the man was a murderer.
While he was waiting, Alex wanted to talk to Dave
Jeffries and see if they’d found any clues in the mass of spilled papers at the blacksmith’s shop. Alex spoke to the dispatcher at the police station and asked, “Is Officer Jeffries around anywhere?”
The dispatcher said, “I’m sorry, he’s on special assignment for the sheriff.”
Alex sighed, then said, “Listen, when he gets back in, have him call Alex Winston at Hatteras West, would you?”
“I’ll leave him a note, but I can’t make any promises. He’s probably going to be tied up all night.”
Alex hung up the telephone, wondering what else he could do to help solve Jefferson Lee’s murder. One thing was certain; there were questions he needed to ask Craig Monroe, and given the man’s excitability, even if he hadn’t killed the blacksmith, he could still be a dangerous man to back into a corner.
Alex didn’t have a gun at the inn; he’d never seen any need for one. He did have several classic blunt instruments, though, and he placed the fireplace poker within reach of his favorite chair. Alex decided to light a fire and settle in for the wait.
He was still staring at the burning logs in the hearth when he heard the front door open. Craig Monroe came in, looking carefully around as he did.
“It’s awfully quiet here,” he said. “I didn’t see a single car in the parking lot.”
Alex lied, “I’ve got a guest upstairs, a hiker who walked in from town. He’s a big brute,” Alex added as he moved closer to the poker.
“I won’t take long,” Craig said as he slumped onto the couch opposite Alex. “This day has completely wiped me out.”
“Any word on your wife?”
“No, she’s still unconscious. The doctors won’t call it a coma for some reason, but that’s sure as hell what it looks like to me. She just lies there, hour after hour. I couldn’t take it anymore.”
Alex decided to end the suspense, one way or the other. “So what is it that’s so urgent, Craig?”
“It’s about Marilynn,” Craig said. His words coming out in a rush, he continued, “We’ve been having problems lately. She was unfaithful. That’s why this happened.”
Was he confessing? “You must have been shattered when you found out.”
Craig started pacing heavily around the room. Alex tried to keep his eyes on the man all the time, but it was like tracking a hummingbird.
Craig said, “You cannot imagine how furious I was. I still am, if you want to know the truth. That’s not the worst part, though. I’ve got to tell somebody this, it’s eating me up inside.”
Alex started edging toward the poker. He only hoped he’d be quick enough to use it to defend himself.
Craig was nearly behind him when he said, “Alex, the worst part of this whole mess was the man she was cheating on me with.” His voice suddenly turned icy cold. “My wife was having an affair with Jefferson Lee.”
So that was Craig’s motive; he was a betrayed husband! Alex was suddenly sure that Craig had him in his sights, but why? Alex hadn’t seen or heard anything. Forget about subtlety, it was time to protect himself.
Alex started to pick up the poker just as Craig said, “Alex, I love Marilynn more than life itself. She felt so guilty cheating on me that she tried to kill herself. The only other possibility is that she couldn’t bear to live anymore when her lover was murdered! Either way, it’s all my fault, every bit of it. If I’d just showed her a little more attention ... Alex, that’s why her last words are so important to me. I have to know, was she thinking of Jefferson Lee when she did this to herself, or was she worried about me?”
The man’s words choked off as he collapsed against Alex’s chair, sobbing uncontrollably. Through the tears, he cried out, “What am I going to do if anything happens to her? She’s my life!”
Alex dropped the poker and patted Craig’s shoulder. “She’s going to make it, you’ve got to have faith.”
“Alex, I swear to you, if she does, I’m a changed man. I won’t ever ignore her again. It nearly ripped my heart out when I found out she’d cheated on me, but this is destroying me.”
There was nothing Alex could say.
After the tears ended, Craig looked spent. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened to me just now.”
“You’re under a lot of stress. Why don’t you go up to your old room and try to take a nap? You need to rest.”
The man obviously felt awkward having Alex witness his breakdown. “No, I’ve got to get back to the hospital. The main reason I came out here was to see if Marilynn said anything at all when you found her.”
“I’m sorry, but she was out of it by the time I got to her. What were you hoping for?”
He nearly whispered his answer. “I was praying she might have said she loved me.” As the tears started flowing again, Craig hurried for the door. “I’ve got to get back.”
Alex hated himself for thinking it, but he had to wonder if Craig’s outburst had been spontaneous and sincere, or if he’d been trying to throw Alex off his trail. If that were the case, though, why would he admit that his wife was having an affair with the murder victim? It could only hurt him, giving him a motive where none was known before. Unless he was leaking the information to Alex before he knew the police would find out, painting himself as a wronged man instead of a cold-blooded killer.
Alex was still twisting the possibilities over in his mind when the phone rang.
It was Elise.
“Hi, stranger,” he said. “Any news?”
“Dad’s complaining about the hospital bed and the food. It’s the best sign we’ve had yet.”
“I’m, glad,” Alex said absently.
“Alex, is there something wrong?”
He sighed. “You just caught me at a bad time. There’s a lot going on here.”
“What’s been happening?” she asked.
At that moment, Dave Jeffries came in. He saw Alex was on the phone, then tapped his watch.
“Listen, Elise, could I call you right back? Someone just came in I really need to talk to.”
He could hear her stifle a yawn. “I’m going straight to bed, Alex. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Good-night.”
“ Bye,” he replied.
As he was hanging up, the deputy said, “Sorry to interrupt, Alex, but I’m on the clock. I got your message. What’s up?”
“I just found out something the sheriff should know. Marilynn Baxter was having an affair with Jefferson Lee.”
Dave clouded up. “Alex, tell me exactly what you did at Lee’s shop. You didn’t take any letters with you, did you?”
“What are you talking about? I told you I didn’t touch a thing.”
Dave pressed him. “So how did you find out about the affair?”
“Craig Monroe just told me. I thought you should know he had a motive. Why are you so edgy all of a sudden?” Alex asked.
“That was my special assignment. After you left, I started digging around in the shop, and I found a secret cubby with letters from Marilynn to Jefferson Lee. They were pretty steamy. I figured one of them must have fallen out, and you were holding out on me. Sorry I jumped down your throat.”
&nbs
p; “So, do you think the killer was looking for those letters, or did Jefferson Lee have something else going on?”
“I truly don’t know, Alex. Right now, I’m wondering if Craig didn’t tell you first to take some of the sting out of us finding those letters. How was he when you talked to him?’
After a pause, Alex said, “He seemed genuinely upset about Marilynn’s attempted suicide, but I couldn’t say whether he killed Jefferson Lee or not.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll nail him if he did.” Dave looked at his watch. “Well, I can’t hang around here all night. I’ve got to get back to Lee’s shop and finish up. If you uncover anything else, call the sheriff. If you can’t find him, call me, and I’ll tell him myself.”
‘Thanks, Dave.”
“Hey, we serve and protect, remember? Talk to you later, Alex.”
After the deputy was gone, Alex dead-bolted the
inn’s front door. It was rare that he could do it, since Alex couldn’t lock his guests out, but he was glad for once that he was alone at Hatteras West.
Just in case, though, he dead-bolted the door to his room, too.
Chapter 19
Alex felt a little silly the next morning unbolting all the locks. What did he think, Jefferson Lee’s killer would come for him in the middle of the night? In the fresh light of a new day, Alex knew that the killer would have no reason to come after him. He was the first to admit that his unofficial investigation into the murder had produced very few results.
Alex was just going for his morning walk to the mailbox when Jenny Harris pulled up in her pickup truck. It wasn’t all that unusual to find a woman who preferred trucks in the South. Jenny had more reason than most to have one; it was most likely the only way she could haul her heavy maple loom around wherever she went.
She rolled down the window as Alex approached. “Out for your morning constitutional?”
“Just getting the mail. What brings you back to Hatteras West?”
“I think something may have fallen out of my bag while I was packing. I was hoping it might still be up in the room.”
