Reservations for Murder (4 page)

“Where’s Emma?” Alex asked lightly. His
resident gem expert and his best friend had become quite an item
around Elkton Falls lately.

Mor shrugged. “She’s around here somewhere.
That woman can surely be exasperating.”

Alex laughed. “I’ve heard her say the exact
same thing about you.”

“I’ll just bet you have,” Mor said.

As Emma Sturbridge joined them on the porch,
she said, “My ears were burning fiercely. Were you gentlemen by any
chance talking about me?” Emma was a large, attractive woman with a
sharp gleam in her eyes and a confident tone in her voice.

“What did you buy?” Mor asked, looking at the
bundle under her arm and ignoring her question completely.

“I found the most delightful sweater. That
Jenny can really weave, can’t she?” Emma took her new acquisition
out of the bag and held it up in front of her. The sweater sported
a bright splash of colors that seemed to melt together in a most
unusual pattern, but it suited her.

Emma Sturbridge had come to the inn as a
guest searching for some of the emeralds the area was famous for,
and she’d ended up staying in Elkton Falls. The town had that
effect on some people, drawing them in like bees to fresh blossoms.
Emma now owned a crisply kept little cottage in town, and Alex
believed that its proximity to Mor or Les’s repair shop was
anything but an accident. She’d been delighted to announce to Mor
that she fancied him, and to Alex’s surprise, it hadn’t taken Mor
long to reciprocate.

Mor said, “Emma, I’ve got to get back to
town. I have a full schedule today.” He laughed at Alex. “Believe
it or not, you’re not even on my list.”

“The new boiler’s running as calm and quiet
as a whisper,” Alex said.

Mor nodded. “I’m glad you took some of the
money from the new construction budget to replace it, but I kind of
miss hanging around, Alex.” The old boiler had been a nightmare for
both men, and Alex wondered which of them had been more relieved to
see it go. It now resided, in various pieces, at Amy Lang’s studio,
destined to be wed with other discards to become another piece of
her modern sculpture. Amy was fairly new to Elkton Falls, though
her people had come from the Foothills several generations before.
Once the fair was over, Alex promised himself to make it a point to
visit her studio. After all, she was one of his closest neighbors,
though their respective businesses kept them busy at their own
tasks.

“Are you heading back with me?” Mor
asked.

Emma said, “I think I’ll stay and catch up
with Elise. I haven’t seen her in days. I’ll see you tonight.” She
kissed Mor soundly, and he laughed brightly when Emma stepped
back.

“You’re good for me, woman,” he said, still
smiling.

“It’s nice to be appreciated, but you’re
going to be late.”

Mor grinned at Alex. “She’s a worse slave
driver than Les is.”

“Oh, go on with you,” Emma said.

After Mor was gone, Emma said, “Where’s
Elise? I want to show her my new sweater.”

“She’s somewhere inside,” Alex said.

Emma patted his shoulder. “I’m so sorry about
the murder. It’s not your fault, Alex. You know that, don’t
you?”

Alex smiled sadly. “In my heart I know you’re
right. I’m sorry he’s dead, but I realize this kind of thing
happens all the time. I just wish it hadn’t happened here.”

As he watched more people stream into the
fair, Alex saw Sandra’s BMW cut through the crowd and make its way
to the front steps of the inn.

She got out of the car, showing a flash of
her long legs as she did. Sandra always wore the shortest skirts
she could get away with in court. There was no doubt she got the
male jurors’ attention that way, but she held it with her
persuasive arguments. When the two of them had been dating, Alex
had sat in on one of her closing statements just to see her in
action, and he’d been overwhelmed by her presence in court.
Sandra

was remarkably good at what she did, and Alex
began to realize that she had won most of their arguments for a
reason. That had been one of their problems. Sandra could convince
him of just about anything when they were together. Only afterward
did he realize that he’d been played expertly to come to the
conclusions she’d wanted him to reach.

“Alex, it’s good to be back at Hatteras West.
I’ve missed this place.”

Alex said, “I’m afraid you’re too late,
Sandra. The sheriff’s already taken Bill into town.”

“He hasn’t arrested him, has he?”

Alex said, “No, but he said to tell you that
he was taking Bill to jail so he could interrogate him without
being interrupted.”

“We’ll just see about that,” Sandra said.

Alex added, “Sandra, I’m not sure how he’s
set financially. I probably shouldn’t have brought you in on this,
but I didn’t know who else to call.”

She touched his arm lightly. “Don’t worry
about it, Alex. You did the right thing. I can always write it off
as my contribution to the arts.”

“One thing, Sandra. Bill Yadkin’s got a real
temper. It’s not going to be easy representing him.”

Sandra offered a smile. “Well, you know me,
Alex. I always did like a challenge.”

As she drove away, Alex wondered if he’d sent
her on an impossible mission.

He had to admit that there was a very real
chance Bill Yadkin had done exactly what it appeared, that the
young blacksmith had killed off his main competition.

Chapter 5

Alex knew it was pointless wading through the
bills he’d thrown in his desk drawer. Just the thought of
reorganizing them again was enough to kill the desire to work. His
mind was on other things.

Murder had come back to The Hatteras West
Inn, and it was a most unwelcome guest.

Alex decided that more than anything else, he
needed some time on Bear Rocks. Slipping away to the top of the
lighthouse gave him perspective on his problems when he needed a
place to think, but touching the sun-warmed boulders always offered
an overwhelming comfort he couldn’t explain. The formation of
weathered boulders, eroded into passageways, slides and bridges,
had always had a calming influence on him. As a boy, Alex had
memorized every twist and turn to the paths, and he prided himself
on the fact that he knew the rocks better than anyone alive.

Cutting through the crowds at the fair, Alex
ducked into the trees and soon found himself mostly away from the
noise of their presence. He curled up into a cradle of warm stone
and stared up at the sky. He hadn’t been there long before a voice
called out to him.

“I thought I saw you slipping away through
the trees,” Alex heard.

He looked up to find Shantara Robinson
standing at the base of his rock.

Alex said, “To tell you the truth, I needed
to get away from the world for a few minutes.”

“I can relate to that,” she said as she
deftly climbed up beside him.

“Shouldn’t you be at the fair?”

She shook her head. “I had to catch my
breath, too. We’ve got a huge crowd, that’s for sure. Only I don’t
think they came to see the artisans at work; they’re more
interested in seeing the crime scene. People can be such
ghouls.”

“So why are you up here hiding from the
world?” She paused a second, then added, “As if I have to even ask.
Alex, I’m so sorry I brought all this onto you and your place.”

“Listen to me, Shantara, it’s not your fault
any more than it is mine. I just hate that it had to happen at
all.”

“Me, too, Alex.” There were a few moments of
shared silence, then Shantara stood up and brushed her slacks off.
“Why don’t we head back to the fair? People are probably wondering
where we slipped off to.”

Alex joined her as she deftly jumped off the
rocks. He said, “Let them wonder. It will give them something to
talk about besides the murder.”

As they walked through the trees on the path
that led back to the inn, Shantara asked soberly, “Alex, do you
think Bill actually killed Jefferson Lee?”

“Well, he had motive enough. I’ve heard
Jefferson was trying to drive him out of business by stealing all
of his customers. I don’t have to tell you about Yadkin’s temper,
either.”

“So you think he did it?” Shantara asked.

Alex took a few steps, then stopped as he
said, “No, I don’t think he killed the man, but I could be wrong. I
couldn’t tell you why, it’s just something in my gut.”

Shantara said, “So, if Bill Yadkin didn’t
kill him, who did?”

“I wish I knew,” Alex admitted. “Give
Armstrong a chance, Shantara. He’ll uncover the truth.”

“Not without you helping him, Alex. Everybody
in town knows how much he leans on you.”

Alex held up his hands. “Shantara, I’m
staying out of this. I’m just an innkeeper, remember?”

“You’re a lot more than that,” Shantara said
as she stepped closer. “Alex, you can’t just let this drop.” There
was a catch in her voice as she added, “Don’t you understand? This
is all my fault.”

“You’re not responsible for Jefferson Lee’s
murder, Shantara.”

“I just wish that were true,” Shantara said,
tears creeping from her velvety brown eyes.

“Let it go, Shantara.”

She shook her head. “I wish I could.”
Shantara took a deep breath, then let it out slowly before she
added, “Alex, how long have we been friends?”

Alex said softly, “Since kindergarten. You
used to steal my sleep mat during naptime.”

“That was the only way I could get your
attention. Alex, in all the years we’ve known each other, how many
times have I asked you for a favor?”

He started to answer when Shantara continued,
“I mean besides having the fair here at Hatteras West.”

“Never,” Alex admitted.

Shantara looked gravely into his eyes, then
said, “Well, they’re coming in a flood, because this is going to be
the second thing I’ve ever asked you to do for me. Alex, you’ve got
to find out who really killed Jefferson Lee. The only thing is, you
can’t ask why it’s so important to me. Just believe me when I tell
you it is, more than you’ll ever know.”

Alex protested, “I’m not a cop, Shantara, I’m
not even some fancy private detective. What makes you think I can
find out who killed Jefferson Lee?”

“You were always good with puzzles, Alex, and
you’ve got a way of making people talk to you. You really listen!
Do you know how rare that is in this world? Will you do this, Alex?
For me?”

“I don’t know what I can do,” Alex said, then
added quickly, “but I’ll try my best. For you.”

Shantara gave Alex one of her rare hugs, then
released him just as quickly as she’d embraced him.

Despite his best intentions to stay out of
the murder investigation, Alex suddenly found himself right back in
the middle of things.

And he still didn’t have a clue why Shantara
was convinced that Jefferson Lee’s murder had anything to do with
her.

Shantara had persuaded Alex to let her
exhibitors stay at the inn during the two days of the fair at a
greatly reduced rate long before the festivities had moved to
Hatteras West’s grounds. Elise hadn’t even been able to disagree,
since it was an extremely slow time for them anyway, and it did
manage to fill up the rooms. The only room they had reserved for
the weekend was #7, where Evans Graile was staying while his house
was being renovated. Evans was an agreeable old man with a sharp
eye and a soft voice; he never missed a thing and wasn’t reticent
at all about sharing his newfound information. Most days, he
watched the outside world in one of the lobby’s comfortable chairs
from early morning till late into the night, and honestly, Alex had
grown accustomed to his presence, but he’d been noticeably absent
over the past few hours. Alex wondered where in the world the man
could be.

Jefferson Lee had demanded the inn’s nicest
suite for himself, but Alex had refused to move Evans from his
room. Jefferson had insisted that he was the fair s biggest draw,
and Alex realized ironically that he’d turned out to be just
that.

A thought suddenly occurred to him. Maybe
there was something in Jefferson’s room that would give Alex a
handle on who had killed him. It was time to honor his word to
Shantara and see if he could uncover who had murdered Jefferson
Lee.

Alex felt like a ghoul and a burglar creeping
into the room of the dead man. He knew the sheriff wouldn’t approve
of his snooping, even though Alex could probably justify his
presence in some capacity as the innkeeper.

Jefferson Lee was as neat in private as the
image he showed the world. His clothes were carefully folded in the
Shaker-style dresser Alex’s grandfather had built, and his toilet
articles in the bathroom were arranged in an orderly fashion on the
countertop. It was almost as if Jefferson had known he was going to
die and hadn’t wanted anyone to judge him by the condition of his
room. Alex had once had an aunt who always cleaned her house
meticulously before going on vacation, just in case something
happened to her while she was traveling. The irony was that she’d
died when she slipped in the tub while cleaning it just before
going on safari.

Alex was just about to open the writing desk
drawer when the door behind him flew open. He felt his heart hammer
in his chest until he saw Elise standing in the doorway.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

“Come in and shut the door,” Alex whispered
fiercely. “I don’t want anybody to know I’m in here.”

Elise stepped inside and closed the door
behind her. In a gentle voice, she said, “I thought you were
staying out of this.”

“I promised Shantara I’d dig around a
little,” Alex explained.

“Why is she so concerned about Jefferson
Lee’s murder?”

“She feels responsible,” Alex said as he
opened the drawer.

There were a few of the standard room
postcards with The Hatteras West Inn on them, the beacon shining
out into the Foothills night. Alex was about to shut the drawer
when he noticed that one of the postcards had writing on it.