Innkeeping with Murder (5 page)

Doc Drake, who seemed to have a real fondness
for the beautician, said, “They most likely fell out of the
deceased’s pockets. We can’t expect you to find clues when there
aren’t any around, now can we? You did good work up there, Irene,
don’t let it bother you.”

She offered the physician a bright smile and
a quick peck on the cheek. Seeing the red brand from her lipstick,
Irene took her hankie out and scrubbed the doctor’s face clean. “We
can’t have that pretty new nurse thinking things, now can we?”

Irene turned to her cousin. “I’ll be in the
car while you men have your chat. Hurry up, Ducky. I’ve got to give
Mrs. Anderson a perm in twenty minutes. Career women these days
don’t even have time to get their hair done. It’s disgraceful, I’m
telling you. After you drop me off, you can go over to the One-Hour
Photo lab and develop the pictures I took of the crime scene.”

Alex turned to the sheriff and said, “Any
idea when the ambulance is going to get here?” The thought of Reg’s
body on the upper balcony was beginning to make Alex nauseous.

“I’ll radio over and see what’s keeping
them.” While Armstrong was in the squad car making his call, Drake
spoke softly to Alex. “I’ve got the feeling we’ll never find out
who did this, or why. The modern world is filled with random acts
of violence. The only thing that surprises me is that it took so
long to come to our little town here.”

Alex shook his head. “I don’t think there was
anything random about Reg’s death, Doc, but I agree that Armstrong
might never find out who the real killer is.”

Drake said heavily, “Don’t sell Armstrong
short. I’ve seen him at work a lot more than you have. He’s got a
decent mind, and when he gets to thinking about a murder he doesn’t
think about anything else. If anybody has a chance to figure this
out, it’s him. Armstrong’s the kind of man who thrives under tense
situations. It’s the normal aspects of life he doesn’t handle all
that well.”

Alex wondered if the sheriff was as competent
as the doctor supposed.

He suddenly knew in his heart that he
couldn’t afford to take that chance. Who would knowingly stay at an
inn where a murder had recently taken place? And without paying
guests, Hatteras West would die as surely as Reg had. Alex had to
face the fact that finding the murderer himself was the only way he
could save the inn.

Armstrong rejoined them. “There was a big
accident up on Route 70, so they’re going to be late. Do you mind
if I run Doc and Irene into town, Alex? I’ll be back before the
ambulance gets here.”

Alex nodded. “Fine by me.”

As the sheriff walked to his car, he said,
“You might want to lock those doors again. “We don’t want anybody
wandering upstairs.”

Alex agreed and did as the sheriff asked.
After securely locking the doors, he watched in silence as the
squad car disappeared from view. As he turned to head back up the
path to the main part of the inn, Alex saw movement in one of the
bushes planted near the annex’s side porch. By the time he got over
to the spot, whoever had been standing there quietly eavesdropping
had gone. Alex had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that whoever
had murdered Reg Wellington was not going to be satisfied with just
one body. He was going to have to do everything he could to be sure
the killer didn’t have the opportunity to strike again.

Chapter 5

Just as Alex reached for the knob, one of his
guests opened the front door. Joel Grandy looked like everybody’s
favorite grandfather, from his portly frame and silver hair to the
craggy lines of his face. This was his first visit to Hatteras
West, but it hadn’t taken Alex long to get to know the outgoing
man. A recent widower, Joel was touring the country in an effort to
rediscover himself. He’d told Alex on the first day of his visit
that he had spent sixteen months watching cancer slowly, painfully
destroy his wife of thirty-four years. When death had finally come
for her nine weeks ago, he’d embraced it as a welcome friend, a
final relief to her heroic struggle.

At least the man didn’t have money problems
added to his personal grief. Joel was wearing an expensive and
obviously custom-made suit. Several large diamonds glittered from
the gold rings adorning his massive fingers.

His eyes lit up when he spotted Alex. “Just
the fellow I’ve been looking for. I understand there’s been a bit
of trouble around here.”

Alex’s heart sank. It looked like the news of
Reg’s death had already gotten out. Still, it wouldn’t do to assume
anything. “Trouble?”

Joel grinned. “That crazy bird Matthews
cornered me in the hallway. She said something about the lighthouse
being shut down.”

“That’s true enough.”

He could feel Joel’s gaze studying him. “It’s
surely not a gas leak. You told me the power supply had been
converted to electricity thirty years ago. What’s up? You can tell
me, lad.”

Alex knew he couldn’t keep the truth from his
guests any longer, not with a murderer possibly still loose on the
grounds. “I’m afraid something tragic has happened. Somebody
murdered Reg Wellington.”

Joel walked over to one of the porch rockers
and sat down heavily. Alex joined him.

The older guest stared at the floorboards for
a few moments before speaking again. “Who’d want to kill that old
codger? We had a chess game scheduled for tonight after
dinner.”

Alex had seen the two men engaged in a heated
discussion over a game the night before. They appeared to take
their chess seriously, and Alex had been forced to step in to
prevent a brawl in the lobby. Could tempers have flared enough to
cause murder?

Trying to sound casual, Alex said, “When’s
the last time you saw Reg, Joel?”

His guest thought about it a full minute
before answering. “He was going to the lighthouse tower two or
three hours ago. I happened to be looking out my window and I saw
him go inside.”

“And you didn’t see him after that?” Alex
asked.

Joel looked at Alex carefully. “I don’t like
the direction this conversation is heading. You’re not accusing me
of anything are you, Alex?”

Alex bit his lip. If Joel had murdered Reg,
he’d needed to be more careful in his questioning. “No, I was just
wondering if you might have seen anyone else. You must have been
the last person to see him alive.”

“Besides the murderer, you mean.”

Alex nodded in agreement, then said, “I knew
Reg for a long time. I just want to be sure that whoever killed him
is found.”

The suspicion left Joel’s face, replaced by
sympathy. “I’d forgotten about you two being friends. Reg mentioned
how much he wished Junior had turned out more like you. To answer
your question, no, he was alone when I saw him. It’s a damn shame,
that’s what it is.”

The two men sat in silence for a few moments,
then Joel popped out of his chair. The older man did everything
with vigor, and Alex suspected that if Joel had committed the
murder, he would have acted with more passion, attacking his victim
head-on. Stabbing from behind was a sneaky way to murder someone,
and Alex had a hard time believing it was a method this particular
guest was capable of. But Alex was the first to admit that he’d
been wrong before.

Joel said, “Well, you know what they say.
Life goes on. I’m heading into town for a bite to eat and some
entertainment.”

Surprised by his guest’s sudden shift in
mood, Alex

said, “Joel, under the circumstances, I’ll
understand if you want to cancel the rest of your stay here.”

Joel said, “Are you shutting the inn
down?”

“No, of course not. It’s just that—”

“Alex, my boy, if you’re willing to put up
with me, I’m going to hang around a little longer. I’m not afraid
of dying.” He winked at Alex. “I’ve got too much going on right now
to check out of this lovely inn or of my life.” As he walked out to
his late-model Lincoln, Joel added with a wink, “Don’t wait up for
me tonight, I just might be late.”

One thing was certain; Joel didn’t seem to be
wasting any tears over the death of his new friend. Maybe watching
his wife die had taught him to deal with death better than most. Or
maybe Joel Grandy wasn’t all he said he was. Alex was still
thinking about the older man when Junior walked up the path toward
the keeper’s quarters.

Alex would have to break the news to him that
someone had jammed a blade into his father’s neck.

Studying the man, he searched for the right
words. Junior looked like he’d been outfitted from L. L. Bean’s
wilderness catalogue. From his high-top leather boots to his khaki
safari hat, he was more suited to explore the great uncharted
depths of Africa than the relatively tame Blue Ridge Mountains.

Junior dropped down with a loud sigh in the
rocking chair Joel had just vacated. “What a hike! I’ve been gone
four hours and I didn’t think I’d ever make it back.”

“You did the loop trail?”

Junior nodded once, emptying the last sip
from the canteen clipped onto his belt.

Four hours, for a three-mile hike? “What in
the world took you so long?”

Junior looked sheepish. “Don’t tell him,” he
gestured to the upstairs room his father had recently occupied,
then explained, “I was studying a clump of wilderness off the path,
and the sun was so warm ... I... I must have fallen asleep.”

Alex had a hard time believing that. He
supposed it was possible Junior could have taken a nap on the trail
as he said, but there were no signs that his clothes had been slept
in. Alex couldn’t see a speck of dirt or a grass stain anywhere on
Junior; the outfit looked brand new.

Alex took a deep breath, then announced
somberly, “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but your
father’s dead. I found him at the top of the lighthouse.”

Junior’s face didn’t exactly turn ashen—his
complexion was already pasty white, but his eyes did grow large at
the news, and he jerked backwards in the chair.

“My God! What happened? Was it his heart? I
warned him about climbing those stairs, but he never would listen
to me. Mr. Winston, I’m holding you personally responsible for
his—”

Alex tried to keep his voice calm as he
interrupted. “It’s not what you think. I guess I didn’t make myself
clear. Someone murdered your father.”

The news rocked Junior back even farther.
Alex worried that the man would topple over in the chair before he
managed to steady himself. Junior’s surprise was either sincere or
very well rehearsed. “Who...I don’t understand. Do they know who
killed him? Why would somebody do that? How did he die?”

Alex chose to answer the latter question
first, since he didn’t have a clue as to the who or the why. “It
appears that he was stabbed in the back of the neck. The doctor
says it’s most likely he didn’t suffer, if that’s any
consolation.”

Junior shook his head. “Oh, my Lord. What am
I going to tell the board?”

Alex watched the man closely as he said, “I
suppose this means you’ll be taking over your father’s duties at
the company immediately.”

Junior nodded numbly. “I never wanted it to
happen this way.”

He started to get up, then plopped back down
heavily. In a shaking voice, Junior asked, “I don’t suppose you
have a shot of something around here, do you? I could really use a
drink to steady my nerves.”

Alex was ashamed of himself. Instead of
playing detective, he should be comforting his guest. It wasn’t his
job to separate the innocent from the guilty, but it was up to him
to take care of his guests, no matter what his suspicions were. “If
you like bourbon, I’ve got some Maker’s Mark in my room. I’ll be
right back.”

He left Junior alone on the porch and headed
inside. Elise was at the front desk studying the sign-in book. When
she saw Alex, she was obviously startled, a little like she’d been
caught with her hand deep in the cookie jar.

Elise said, “I hope you don’t mind me looking
at the guest registry. I just wanted to see if there were any more
rooms to clean. Can you think of anything else I should do around
here?”

“I don’t have any secrets from you, Elise.
You’re welcome to look at everything and anything here. You could
do me a favor, though.”

Elise asked warily, “What’s that?”

“I’ve got a despondent man out front who just
lost his father. It’s Reg’s son. His name’s Junior, believe it or
not. Could you take him a drink and get him off the front porch?
The ambulance should be here any minute, and I don’t want him to
have to sit there watching while they cart off his father’s
body.”

Elise nodded immediately, a look of sympathy
crossing her face. “I’ll take care of it.”

Alex retrieved the bottle, two-thirds full,
and handed it to Elise. “Thanks. I appreciate you helping out
around here on such short notice.”

“No problem,” she said as she filled a single
plastic glass from her housekeeper’s cart, then headed outside to
the porch.

Alex watched her walk through the door, then
glanced down at the registry. It was turned to the week’s current
guests, and Alex felt a tug in his chest when his eyes fell upon
Reg’s name.

Elise walked back inside a minute later with
Junior in tow, the two of them looking rather chummy.

A moment later Alex saw an unfamiliar car
drive up. When a large, heavyset woman somewhere in her forties got
out of the red Subaru wagon, he realized that it must be Emma
Sturbridge. With only ten rooms split between the two houses, Alex
usually had a pretty good idea of who was coming and going each
night. In the rush surrounding Reg’s death, her scheduled arrival
had completely slipped his mind.

Walking out to meet the handsome woman, Alex
introduced himself and asked if she was Mrs. Sturbridge.

She took his hand with a grin. “Emma, please.
Business must be bad if the owner himself is greeting visitors. I
must say I’m flattered by the attention, though.”