Innkeeping with Murder (3 page)

Alex sighed. “Listen Mor, if I had the money,
I’d buy a new boiler. I swear I would.”

Mor laughed. “That’s not the problem. I’m
just get

ting sick of Marisa hanging around me like a
lovesick puppy.”

“Then I can guarantee that you won’t have
that particular problem anymore.”

“What’s she done now?”

“Mor, it’s a long story, and I don’t have a
whole lot of time. How about if we chat while you’re working.”

“See you soon then. Maybe we’ll have time for
a game of Backgammon or two after I finish.”

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

Alex hung up the telephone and looked out the
window toward the parking lot. As he stood there waiting for the
sheriff to arrive, his mind went back to happier times at the inn
when he had been a boy. He couldn’t remember things ever being in
such a constant state of turmoil as he was growing up. His father
never seemed to have the problems he had running Hatteras West, but
those had been different times. With a start, he suddenly realized
that it had actually been his mother who had dealt with whatever
problems that came up. Alex could remember her soft and gentle way
of handling difficulties as they arose. Unfortunately, he hadn’t
inherited that particular skill from her.

It was more than that, though. In the old
days, the lighthouse used to draw people in because of its special
charm. Now, just thirty miles away, twelve million visitors
traveled the Blue Ridge Parkway every year, yet Alex couldn’t keep
his inn filled with guests half the time.

To most, Hatteras West was just another
Carolina oddity.

But to Alex it was home.

In less than six minutes, Sheriff Armstrong
pulled up in front of the inn, Doc Drake beside him. The blue
lights flashed, but at least the sheriff hadn’t used his siren
coming in.

Alex glanced nervously around. None of his
guests were about.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Chapter 3

Barb Matthews popped out of nowhere and
somehow managed to get to the patrol car ahead of Alex. Before
Armstrong could make it out of the cruiser, the woman was tapping
incessantly on the sheriff’s window with her walking stick.

“Why were you flashing your lights? Is it the
gas leak? Is the lighthouse going to explode?”

Armstrong looked warily at the overbearing
woman as he swung his door open. “I don’t know anything about a
leak. I was just testing my lights out on the open road.”

Thank goodness for small miracles. Dame
Matthews thought every man alive was born a fool, and the sheriff’s
explanation did nothing to change her mind. She shot Alex a look of
disgust, then stormed away onto a nearby wooded path as the sheriff
and the doctor got out of the cruiser.

The policeman spoke first. “What’s her
problem, Alex? I thought she was going to whack me with that stick
for a minute.” On a taller man, Calvin Armstrong’s weight might
have been reasonable. But the sheriff was closer to six feet than
the nine feet he’d need to have a proportionate height/weight
ratio. The khaki uniform he wore looked like its seams had been
reinforced with fishing line to hold in his great bulk.

Alex looked at Barb Matthews’ retreating
figure and said, “She enjoys stirring things up.”

Steven Drake, the small and wiry town doctor,
hopped out of the passenger seat and offered a nod to Alex. “I hear
you’ve got a body on your hands?” he said. “Can’t be good for
business, can it?”

Alex lowered his voice as he spoke, hoping
the two men would follow suit. “The man who died is a fellow who’s
been coming here since before I was born. We were good friends. I
guess his heart just wore out on the climb up the lighthouse
steps.”

The doctor nodded in sympathy. Moving toward
the diagonal black and white striped tower, Drake quickly reached
the lighthouse’s entry door. The other two men had no choice but to
follow. The doctor, a vigorous man in his early forties, led every
walk he ever took. Alex thought the man would have made a great
drum major. They got to the “Closed” sign on the door, and
Armstrong nodded. “I guess it is, for that particular guest.”

Alex kept silent, fighting the anger he
suddenly felt for the sheriff. It was just sinking in that Reg was
gone, not just for another season, but forever. Alex unlocked the
door, then stepped out of Doc Drake’s way. No sense in having the
man try to run him off the stairs.

Alex followed, with Armstrong taking up the
rear. It was obvious the sheriff was not used to climbing. He
barely made it to the first of the nine landings before he had to
stop for a breather.

By the time Alex had climbed the last of the
metal steps, the doctor had already managed to turn the body over
and start his examination.

Alex said, “Was I right, Doc? It was his
heart, wasn’t it?”

When Drake turned to face Alex, his
expression was stern and cold. “What’s keeping the sheriff?”

“He’s taking a break, but he should be right
along. Why, what is it?”

Drake shook his head sadly. “Your friend
didn’t have a heart attack, Alex. Somebody jammed an ice pick into
the base of his neck. Pretty nasty business. The poor fella never
had a chance.”

Alex couldn’t believe it. “It’s murder? Are
you sure? Who’d want to kill Reg?”

Drake turned back to the body. “That’s going
to be up to the sheriff to decide. There’s no doubt it was foul
play. Lean down here a second with me. See that entry wound?
Someone jammed some kind of skewer in right there.”

Alex could see the clotted blood at the base
of Reg’s neck now that he had been turned over.

The sheriff must have heard some of the
conversation between the two men above him. He burst onto the upper
balcony, his face red from exertion. “Did I hear you boys say
something about murder?”

Drake nodded. “Unless Alex’s friend managed
to stab himself in the back of the neck and then throw the ice pick
away before he died, I’d say that’s about right.”

Armstrong removed his hat, now soaked with
sweat,

and wiped the top of his bald head. “Well
I’ll be. I solve this one, and I’m sure to be reelected.”

Alex asked, “I don’t suppose there’s any way
to keep this quiet now, is there?”

Armstrong shrugged as he said, “Sorry Alex.
It’s out of my hands. We’re going to have to have an official
police investigation.” He turned to the doctor. “You’re willing to
sign the death certificate as foul play?”

“That’s what I said, you gore hound. Have a
little respect for the dead, will you?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it,”
Armstrong said apologetically. “Alex, I’ll have to shut down the
lighthouse until I can get my forensic team over here and dust for
prints.”

Alex was confused for a moment. “You mean
your cousin Irene? Don’t you think the state police should be in on
this? You might need more help than a beautician who freelances as
a crime scene specialist.”

Armstrong frowned. “She’s taken all of the
required courses, Alex. On our budget, we’re lucky to have
her.”

Alex wondered how qualified Irene really was,
but she was the only option. “Get her over here quickly then. I
don’t want to leave the lighthouse shut down any longer than I have
to. It’s the only real attraction I’ve got.”

Armstrong smiled slightly and nodded. “I’ll
trot right down and call her now.” The big man flew down the stairs
two at a time. He seemed much more spry now that he was
investigating a murder.

Doc Drake stayed with Alex on the balcony.
“You thought a lot of this fellow, didn’t you?”

Alex kept his eyes off Reg’s body. “He taught
me more about lighthouses than my own father did. He was a good
man, Doc.”

Drake patted Alex’s shoulder as the two men
looked off into the surrounding hills in silence. Alex kept
watching the clouds as they rolled in waves toward him. He loved
the sky, and the views his lighthouse offered. Now it looked like
his days of enjoying the vista would be tainted forever with the
memory of Reg’s dead body sprawled on the upper platform.

Alex turned away and started down the steps,
suddenly needing to get away from Reg’s body. Drake followed
silently; there was obviously nothing else he could do there.

Once they were back on the ground, Alex
realized that Armstrong had driven away in the patrol car, leaving
the doctor stranded at the inn.

Doc Drake said, “I’ll bet he left without
giving me a second thought, heading off to collect Irene, no doubt.
Well, it’s no bother. I’ll catch a ride with the ambulance boys
later. I’d better call Madge and let her know I’m going to be a
while.”

“You can use the telephone in my room, if you
need some privacy.”

They walked through the lobby of the inn and
back to Alex’s Spartan private living space. It was a mirror image
of Marisa’s room, the two having been long ago carved out of a
single room.

As Drake went to the telephone, Alex said,
“Why don’t I get us some coffee?”

The doctor nodded as he picked up the
receiver. Alex shut the door softly, giving the doctor a little
privacy to talk with his nurse. Madge King had started working for
Drake a few months ago as his nurse and secretary when Mrs. Wembly,
a stern older woman Drake had inherited with the practice, had
retired.

His new assistant had been the only nurse
Drake had interviewed who’d been willing to work in the foothills
of the North Carolina Mountains. She and the doctor had hit it off
immediately, and there were rumors that wedding bells would soon be
heard in the hills. Alex would probably use the nuptials as an
excuse to fire up the Fresnel lens. Drake would love the gesture;
he was a huge fan of the lighthouse himself.

Alex filled the coffee cups from the lobby
urn and headed to one set of deck chairs on the front porch of the
annex. For a change, none of his guests were hanging around the
inn; even Barb Matthews had made herself scarce.

Alex’s thoughts kept going back to Reg. Who
in the world would have any reason to kill that lovable old man?
Alex was ashamed his thoughts went immediately to Junior. He
wondered where Reg’s son was, and who would tell him about his
father. Alex decided he would try to find Junior after Drake left
so he could see the man’s reaction to the news of his father’s
death.

Could someone else have lanced Reg? An
unrequited love perhaps? The only female on the premises even close
to Reg’s age was Barb Matthews. The thought of his friend in the
arms of someone like that dragon lady made Alex shudder. Surely Reg
had better taste than that, but love did strange things to people.
Drake came out onto the porch, interrupting Alex’s musings. “Madge
is fussing at me for goofing off. She even threatened to drive out
and pick me up herself if I don’t show up pretty soon.” Drake
chuckled softly to himself. It was clear to Alex that the doctor
enjoyed the attentions of his nurse.

Drake changed the subject. “Now what’s on
your mind, Alex? If you’d like to talk about it, I’ve been told I’m
a pretty good listener.”

Alex hesitated, then realized that it would
feel good to get his troubles off his chest.

“I’m fed up, Steven. In the three seasons
since I’ve been operating this place on my own, I’ve had nothing
but trouble. Dad never had my run of bad luck in all the years he
ran Hatteras West. I’m starting to wonder if I’m cut out for the
innkeeper’s life after all. Maybe my brother was the smart one to
take the money and run.”

Drake gestured to the cars in the parking
lot. “You seem to be doing pretty well.”

Alex shook his head. “To tell the truth, I’m
barely scraping by. Marisa left the second she found out about
Reg’s death, and the boiler is out of whack again. I’m tempted to
take Sam Finster’s advice, sell the place and be done with it.”

Sam Finster was the area’s local real estate
whiz. He’d been after Alex to sell the lighthouse and the
accompanying keeper’s houses for the past four months.

Finster didn’t fight fair, either. When Alex
had refused the agent’s third offer during the first weeks of his
attempted negotiation, Finster started a campaign of lies around
town so that Alex’s neighbors would join in pressuring him to sell.
The latest rumor making the rounds was that an amusement
conglomeration wanted to add Lighthouse Land to its inventory of
attractions. The lie changed weekly, but Alex still had no idea who
the real prospective buyer was.

The worst part of all was that the agent
himself had

spread this latest rumor around town, telling
everyone what a great thing the proposed amusement park would be
for the community. The idea of jobs and tourists appealed to many
of the people who lived in Elkton Falls and the rest of Canawba
County. Everybody wanted to cash in on those tourists dollars.
Several of the townsfolk had even started snubbing Alex on his
trips into town.

The doctor snorted in disgust. “Don’t let
that vulture get his claws into you. Tell me the truth. You aren’t
going to sell, are you? Hatteras West is a part of you; it’s
obvious to anyone with eyes that you love this place.”

Alex nodded, staring up at the faded black
and white stripes of the lighthouse. “God help me, I do. I don’t
know what I’d do if—”

Their conversation was interrupted by the
sound of a truck coming up the gravel road. Alex recognized Mor’s
fix-it shop on wheels. Mordecai Pendleton slid on the loose gravel,
barely managing to stop the truck three inches from the concrete
bumpers Alex had put in specifically to keep the man from driving
straight into the main keeper’s house.

As he climbed out of the truck, Mor gave the
two men a big wave. “Hey Doc. Alex, if I had kids, that boiler of
yours would be putting them through college.”

Alex grinned in spite of himself. Mor
Pendleton always had a way of cheering him up. The fix-it man
looked like a linebacker, which he had indeed been in college. An
illegal late hit had resulted in two bad knees during his junior
year, sending Mor back to his old hometown minus his scholarship
and without enough money to finish his degree. A lesser man might
have spent his time dreaming of the glory and the paychecks that
could have been, but Mor was the happiest man Alex knew.