Innkeeping with Murder (9 page)

She looked flustered by Alex’s generosity,
and without uttering another word, Elizabeth Halloway flung the
door open and stormed out into the foggy night, Armstrong close
behind her.

Elise chided him gently after they were gone.
“Shame on you, Alex. You stole that poor woman’s thunder.”

Alex grinned. “Thanks for your help. You
really are good with people, you know that?”

“It’s a part of being an innkeeper. Now if
you’ll excuse me, I’ll say good-night.”

“Good-night,” he called out

After she was gone, Alex went through his
nightly routine of checking the inn to be sure that all was as it
should be.

It was still hard to believe that Reg was
dead.

Chapter 8

By the time Alex woke up the next morning,
the fog had burned off in the early morning sunshine; it looked
like another beautiful day.

He found Elise mopping the front lobby as he
came out of his room. Alex said, “Good morning. You’re getting an
early start, aren’t you?”

Her smile was warm and genuine when she
looked up from her work. “I’m just about finished. I like getting a
jump on the day. Didn’t Marisa ever clean this beautiful wooden
floor?”

“If she did, I never caught her at it.”

Elise stopped working and walked over to
Alex. “What do you do about breakfast around here?”

Alex said, “There’s a kitchenette tucked in
the back of my room. I’ve got eggs, milk and cereal; you’re welcome
to whatever you want.”

Elise took a few final passes with the mop,
then said, “Lead me to it.”

Alex was thankful he’d made his bed and
straightened his room. It was probably silly, but he didn’t want
his new maid to think that he was a messy housekeeper.

Elise headed straight to the kitchen and
started rummaging through his meager pantry.

Alex said, “Marisa and I usually ate in
shifts so somebody could be at the front desk. That’s where I’ll be
if you need me.”

Elise brought her head out of the cabinet
long enough to say, “Have you eaten yet?”

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’ve been
taking care of myself for a long time.”

She said, “It’s no trouble. Alex, it’s as
easy to make an omelet for two as it is for one.”

“You convinced me. I need to have a
conversation with one of our guests, then I’ll be in need of a
hearty meal.”

Elise frowned slightly. “Is there anyone left
who doesn’t know about Reg’s death?”

“The one I’ve been dreading telling the most:
Barb Matthews. I can’t imagine how she’s going to take the news.
You know, I’m starting to have second thoughts about anyone staying
here right now. The more I think about it, the less I like the idea
of any of my guests being in jeopardy just because I want to make a
few dollars. I’m going to do my level best without actually
throwing them out to see if anybody will consider leaving the inn,
at least until the murder is solved.” Alex excused himself and
headed over to Barb Matthews’s room. Before he could knock on the
door, he heard Sheriff Armstrong calling his name out front.

Back in the lobby, Alex asked, “Don’t you
have any other crimes to investigate around here?”

Armstrong said, “Not like this one. I need to
interview your guests this morning. Do you want me to interrogate
them on my own, or would you like to come with me?”

Alex shuddered at the thought of imposing on
his guests anymore, but he knew the sheriff was right. He only
wondered why the man hadn’t interviewed them yesterday.

Alex said, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to be
with you when you talk to my guests. By the way, did Miss Halloway
get out of town all right?”

Armstrong grinned slightly. “You don’t have
to worry about her. I interviewed her last night over a piece of
pie and a cup of coffee.”

“Mixing business with pleasure, Sheriff?”

Armstrong shrugged as he said, “I figured it
was the only way I could get her story. That’s the official
version, anyway.”

Alex said, “We may as well get started.
Anybody in particular you’d like to speak to first?”

The sheriff thought about it for a moment
before replying. “The son, I think. He seems the most likely
suspect to me. You’re close to this, Alex. What do you think?”

Finally, the sheriff was asking his advice.
“I believe Junior’s an excellent place to start. Let me tell you
what I found out yesterday.”

Alex told the sheriff about Junior’s alibi
and the pristine state of his clothes as the two men walked to
Junior’s new room. Alex had moved the son promptly to a spot in the
annex away from his father’s old room. That left the main house
empty at the moment, and Alex had a sudden twinge of regret for his
steadily decreasing bank balance.

It took four knocks to bring Junior
Wellington to the door. Junior had managed to throw on a robe, but
Alex could see he was still dressed in a pair of heavy flannel
pajamas.

“What can I do for you, Alex? I don’t
remember requesting a wake-up call.”

Armstrong stepped around Alex and entered the
room uninvited. “My name’s Armstrong. I’m the sheriff for Canawba
County. I’d like to discuss a few things with you about your
father.”

Junior suddenly looked wide awake. “Did you
find out who killed him?”

“The investigation is ongoing.”

After Alex stepped inside, Armstrong closed
the door and leaned against it as if he were cutting off Junior’s
escape route.

The sheriff said, “Where were you yesterday
afternoon between the hours of three and five?”

Junior pointed to Alex. “I already told him.
I was hiking the loop trail all afternoon.”

“And could I possibly see the clothes you
were wearing on your little hike?”

Junior bristled at the suggestion. “Really,
Sheriff, I don’t see why it’s any business of yours what I had on
yesterday afternoon. What possible relevance could that have to my
father’s murder?”

“You don’t have to cooperate, but I’ll be
glad to get a warrant and search your room anyway. Now, are you
going to help me find your father’s murderer, or are you going to
get in my way?”

“Of course I want to find out who did it.”
Junior turned and started rummaging in a pile of clothes at the
base of his closet. After picking out a pair of pants and matching
shirt that looked somewhat familiar to Alex, he turned back to the
two men.

Armstrong took the clothes and started
examining them closely. Alex could see from his vantage point that
the back of the pants and one cuff of the shirt had grass stains
and smudges of dirt that he was sure hadn’t been there the day
before.

Alex stepped in. “Are you sure this is what
you were wearing yesterday?”

“I know my own clothes.”

Armstrong shot Alex a withering look before
speaking to Junior again. “On this hike, did anyone happen to see
you?”

“I think I’m beginning to see where you’re
going with this. Surely you don’t think I murdered my own
father?”

The sheriff puffed out his chest. “Don’t act
so surprised; it happens all the time. Why don’t you humor me? I
repeat, did anyone see you while you were out on the trail?”

“Besides a few squirrels and a couple of
mockingbirds, no one. Wait a minute, that’s not quite true. I
happened upon a curious little woman scurrying along the path.”

“Will she verify seeing you?”

Junior frowned. “I don’t think so. She was so
absorbed in her walk that she never looked my way. I was slightly
embarrassed having been caught napping, so I remained silent while
she passed me.”

Armstrong said, “So you don’t have an alibi.
You’re not planning to leave the inn any time soon, are you Mr.
Wellington?”

Junior’s back stiffened. “Not until my
father’s murderer is found.”

Armstrong took the clothes Junior had claimed
to have worn and started for the door.

“Where are you going with my things?”

“They’re possible evidence, Mr. Wellington.
You’ll get them back after we’ve had a good look at them.”

Armstrong and Alex walked out of the room.
Once the door was closed, the sheriff started in on Alex. “Clean
outfit? Do you see these grass stains?”

Alex protested, “I’m telling you, he either
pulled out the wrong clothes or he added the stains later. That
outfit was clean when I saw him in it yesterday.”

Armstrong folded the clothes up, tucked them
under his arm, then pointed to the next door. “Who’s in here?”

“That’s where the recently departed Miss
Halloway was staying.”

“Don’t worry about her. I know where I can
reach her if I need to. Who else is still staying at the inn?”

They moved to the next room across the hall.
“The main quarters are empty, everyone’s in the annex at the
moment.” Alex dreaded interrupting the occupant in room 6. He was
sure Barb Matthews would not be pleased by the two men’s
questions.

There was no reply to their knocking.

Armstrong said, “Open it up anyway.”

“Sheriff, my guests have a certain right to
privacy in my inn.”

Armstrong paused for thought. Abruptly, he
said, “Did you hear that?”

“What? I didn’t hear anything.”

The sheriff said, “Alex, I could have sworn I
heard someone cry out for help. Open the door.”

Alex groaned softly as he opened the door
with his pass key. His hands were shaking at the thought of
catching the old woman coming out of the shower. She would probably
sue him for his last dime, which was what he was just about down
to.

The room was blessedly empty.

Alex whispered, “What are we looking
for?”

Armstrong said, “We’re not looking for
anything. We were standing in the hallway and we thought we heard
someone calling for help.”

Alex had to agree that the logic would
probably hold up if they were discovered in the room. “You do your
search. I think I’ll go get her some fresh towels.”

Alex went down the hall and peeked his head
into his own room. It looked like Elise was just finishing up her
breakfast preparations.

Alex said, “That smells wonderful. What is
it?”

“The Elise Danton Western Omelet. I hope
you’re hungry. I got carried away and made enough for three.”

“That’s good. We’ll probably have to feed
Sheriff Armstrong, too.”

Alex quickly brought her up to date on what
had happened. “Don’t worry about Junior’s clothes. When I clean his
room, I’ll snoop around a little. In the meantime, why don’t you
retrieve the sheriff and I’ll set another place at the table.”

Alex did just that, finding the sheriff
closing the door to the Matthews woman’s room as he entered the
hallway. It was just as well. He’d forgotten to get fresh towels
from the linen closet anyway. Alex said, “Find anything?”

Armstrong jumped a foot in the air. “You’ve
got to quit sneaking up on people like that. It’s going to get you
in trouble one of these days.”

Alex bit his lip to keep a smile from
showing. “Was there anything in there worthwhile?”

“Nothing but a pile of rocks. Crazy,
huh?”

Alex laughed. “Sheriff, I’ve yet to meet a
‘normal’ guest at this inn. We attract the unusual types. I had one
guest who collected nothing but gravel because he thought the color
was pretty. I’ve uncovered hordes of pinecones, branches, even old
bottles. What surprises me is so many of the guests don’t take
their ‘finds’ with them. I could build a rock garden just with the
stones I haul out of my guest rooms every season.” The sheriff’s
stomach rumbled noticeably, and Alex asked, “Have you had your
breakfast yet?”

Armstrong patted his big belly. “I had a
quick meal, but I could always use another bite. What’d you have in
mind?”

“Elise is fixing an omelet in my room, and
she’s made more than enough for you to join us.”

Armstrong raised one eyebrow. “I’d be pleased
to join you, if three’s not a crowd.”

Alex let a little of his ire enter his voice.
“It’s not a date, Armstrong, it’s breakfast. Eat or not, suit
yourself.”

As the two of them walked toward Alex’s room,
the sheriff asked, “Is that what you two were doing last night at
Mamma Ravolini’s?”

“It was business,” Alex said sternly. That
was one of the problems with small towns. Everybody made it a point
to know what everybody else was doing. Alex didn’t dignify the
question with any more of an explanation than that.

The smells coming out of his room were pure
ambrosia to the bachelor chef, and quite out of the ordinary
compared with his usual breakfast—a bowl of cold cereal.

One of the game tables in the lobby had been
set up like it belonged in a fine restaurant. Elise had found a
tablecloth in the linen closet and had even adorned the center of
the small table with some wildflowers she found outside.

Elise said, “Why don’t you two go ahead and
sit down. I’ll have everything ready in a minute.”

As the three of them ate, they discussed
everything but Reg’s murder, though the unspoken topic hung over
their thoughts like gravid black clouds.

Alex noticed that, though it was the
sheriff’s second breakfast, there was nothing left on the man’s
plate but a hazy shine.

For a second it looked like the sheriff was
going to loosen his belt another notch. He leaned back in his chair
instead and said, “Ma’am, that was the best omelet I’ve ever had.
You ought to open up your own restaurant.”

Elisa smiled slightly. “I believe I’ve found
an appreciative audience at last.”

“It really was delicious, Elise. Thank you,”
Alex added.

Armstrong pushed himself away from the small
table and said, “I hate to eat and run, Elise, but I’ve got a
murder to solve.”

Alex watched as the sheriff got up and headed
back toward the guest rooms. He lingered over his coffee until the
sheriff asked pointedly, “Aren’t you coming?”