Innkeeping with Murder (11 page)

Mor turned a slight shade of red. “I saw the
doctor last month, but today was the first chance I had to get out
and exercise. Don’t tell on me, okay?”

Alex smiled. “Your secret’s safe with me.
Well, I’d better be getting back.”

He started to leave when Mor called out,
“You’re not done here, fella.”

“What’s up?”

Mor’s devilish smile came back. “I hear you
got considerably farther with Miss Danton last night than I ever
managed to. What’s your secret, Alex? I thought you and Sandra were
an item.”

“She’s out of town and I just wanted some
company last night. My God, can’t I change my underwear in this
town without everybody knowing what color it is?”

“Buddy, you’re the talk of the town. Every
single man in Elkton Falls has asked that girl out, and you’re the
first one she’s even smiled at. Irma told me all about it when I
picked the register up this morning. When’s Sandra due back in
town?”

“She’s coming in this afternoon. Elise Danton
is a sweet girl and a pleasure to be around, but I’ve already got a
girlfriend.” Alex turned and had his hand on the door when he heard
Mor choking.

He turned back in alarm, only to find the
huge fix-it man doubled over in a badly controlled laughing
fit.

Alex said, “Okay, so maybe I’m a little
touchy, but she really is a nice girl.”

Mor managed to stop his humor jag. “Irma
thinks so, too. She wants to adopt her. Listen, I didn’t mean to
hit a nerve, I’m sorry. You’ve had a lot happen lately, haven’t
you?”

“More than I even want to think about.”

Alex walked out of the shop feeling better,
but that soon turned to dust when he spotted Sam Finster getting
out of his Jeep Cherokee. Alex tried to duck back into the repair
shop, but the eagle-eyed little weasel caught him before he could
get inside.

“Alex Winston, just the man I want to see.
You’ve saved me a trip out to the lighthouse.”

Alex fought the urge to run. “Finster, I’m
not selling. I told you, it’s final.”

Sam Finster missed Alex’s cutting tone, or
more likely chose to ignore it. “Since you’ve saved me the gas, at
least let me buy you a cup of coffee and a doughnut.”

Alex shook his head. “You go ahead, don’t let
me stop you. I was just on my way back out to the inn.”

Finster smiled, his canines gleaming in the
sunlight. “Now Alex, surely you have time for an old friend.
Especially in your time of need.”

Of course, with Finster’s connections, he
probably knew more about the murder and Emma Sturbridge’s fall than
Alex did himself. If he didn’t go with the realtor now, he’d be
hounded by the little ferret until he agreed to hear him out.

“I’ve got ten minutes to spare. Let’s get
this over with.” Alex had found early on that no matter how rude he
was to Sam Finster, the realtor still acted as if the two of them
were the best of friends. Finster was the only person on the planet
Alex was patently discourteous to, but then the rest of the town
acted the same way toward him too. Finster had a way of bringing
out the worst in people. For a fleeting moment, Alex wished if
anyone had to take that fall from Bear Rock, it should have been
the real estate man, then he quickly chided himself for wishing bad
on anyone, even Sam Finster.

They walked over to Buck’s Grill and found
the owner’s daughter Sally Anne waiting tables. Sally Anne could
always be counted on for her bright, sunny smile.

In the hours between breakfast and lunch, the
restaurant was oddly deserted.

Alex had heard from Buck that Sally Anne had
decided to postpone college a year in order to save more money, but
local gossip had it that she was more interested in seeing which
college offered a scholarship to the town’s local football hero,
and incidentally, her boyfriend.

Alex asked, “How’s Eric doing this season?”
as he walked in.

Sally Anne’s smile brightened even more.
“He’s on his way to breaking all the old school records. You should
come out and watch him play sometime.”

“I’d like that.” He glanced at the menu board
on the wall behind her. “Let me see, I’ll have two of your freshest
glazed doughnuts and a glass of chocolate milk. Finster’s
buying.”

Her smile shifted to a grim crease as she
turned to Finster. The real estate man winked broadly and said,
“I’ll have the same, honey.” He turned to Alex. “You grab a booth,
will you? I’ve got to make a quick call. Time is money, you know
what I mean, sport?” His hacking laughter followed him all the way
to the pay telephone outside the diner. The realtor was too cheap
to invest in a cellular telephone even as the world around him went
wireless.

Sally Anne delivered the two milks and the
doughnuts before Finster had a chance to come back from the pay
phone.

Alex said, “You don’t like him much, do
you?”

An uncharacteristic fury crossed the girl’s
face. “Every time he’s in here he tries to pinch my bottom or find
an excuse to brush against me. The man makes my skin crawl.”

“You shouldn’t have to put up with that. Why
don’t you tell Eric or your father?”

She grimaced. “Are you kidding? Eric would
get thrown off the team if he got caught beating Finster up, and
Daddy would kill the little sleaze.”

She had a point. Her father, Buck Wilson, had
been a state Golden Gloves champ, knocking down every opponent he
met. Clippings on one wall chronicled his climb to the regional
finals, where he had the misfortune to meet a future contender for
the heavyweight championship title of the world. Buck’s nose still
bore the bend that Bomber Maxwell had put in it. He wore the
crooked nose with pride, regaling every new customer with his
blow-by-blow account of the fight. At fifty, Buck still looked like
he could go ten rounds with any up-and-comer.

Alex suddenly thought of something. “Is your
dad back in the kitchen now?”

“No, he’s off on his morning jog, ten miles,
rain or shine.”

“Chances are Finster doesn’t know that.
Here’s what you should do.” Alex whispered his instructions to
Sally Anne, whose grin grew wider with the telling.

Finster came back just as the two of them
finished their discussion. Sally Anne managed to dodge Finster’s
groping paws; the realtor chuckled as he sat down.

Finster smiled and said, “What are you trying
to do, Alex, go after every eligible woman in town? Leave a few for
the rest of us, will you?”

Alex jammed a doughnut in his mouth to keep
from saying something he might regret. Sally Anne made the
doughnuts fresh every morning, and Alex loved the smell of the
batter frying almost as much as the tender, moist taste of the
pastries themselves. He ate both doughnuts, drank the milk, then
glanced at his watch. “You’ve got two minutes, starting now.”

Finster wolfed down the last bite of his
doughnut. To Alex’s disappointment, the man didn’t choke. “My buyer
has upped the offer for the inn. Why don’t you grab it before my
client finds out about what happened at Bear Rocks? You might avoid
a lawsuit that way.”

“Finster, I’m not going to sell the place
unless the creditors are knocking down the door.”

Finster’s smile became predatory. “You think
guests will flock to the Murder Inn next season? Come on, Alex,
wise up and sell the white elephant while you can still get a good
penny for it.”

Alex had given that very option a great deal
of consideration lately, but the Winstons had a stubborn streak,
and Alex had inherited more than his share in the bargain. The
nagging thought that a sale would no doubt give Finster a whopping
commission steeled his resolve not to give the lighthouse up.

Getting up from the booth, he said, “Tell
your buyer no sale.” Alex nodded softly to Sally Anne, who was
standing just inside the kitchen. According to his plan, the door
was propped open, but Sally blocked the view. When she began
speaking, it was loud enough for the two men to hear.

“I’m telling you, Dad, he tries to grope me
all the time. I’m not waiting on him anymore. If you want his
money, you serve him. I’m tired of him pinching my butt.”

There was a pause, and Alex looked over at
Finster. The man’s face was completely white. Everyone in town knew
that it took a lot to anger Buck, but one sure sign you had managed
it was when he lowered his voice to a deadly whisper. The fact that
Sally’s pleas were going without response wasn’t lost on
Finster.

They heard Sally Anne’s voice again, this
time with a heartfelt plea in it. “Please don’t get so angry,
Daddy. If he so much as looks at me again, I’ll tell you, I
promise. Give Mr. Finster one more chance. You’d have an awful time
explaining it to the jury, what with your temper and all.”

Finster didn’t wait around for a response. He
mumbled something to Alex, then threw a twenty-dollar bill down on
the counter as he raced for the door. As the weasel scurried down
the sidewalk, Alex burst into a laughing fit.

Sally Anne joined him at the window as
Finster sped away in his Cherokee.

She threw her arms around Alex. “I swear, I
could kiss you for getting that leach off my tail.” Sally Anne did
just that, sliding into Alex’s arms and planting a happy kiss on
his cheek.

The sight of Finster’s twenty on the counter
brought the laughter back into her voice. “Looks like the movies
are on me tonight. I hope Eric can skip curfew. You know Coach, he
doesn’t like his boys hanging out with the girls.”

Alex grinned. “If Eric has any spunk at all,
he won’t let Coach’s rules stop him. I know I wouldn’t.”

“How sweet of you. Tell you what, any time
you get the craving for doughnuts, come on by. Your money’s no good
here as long as I’m waitressing.”

Alex offered his thanks, then added, “If
Finster ever does try to grab you again, you really should tell
your father.”

Sally Anne laughed. “You saw him run. I think
he got the message.”

When Alex got back to the inn, he was
surprised to see Elise standing on the front porch of the annex. It
was almost as if she were waiting for him.

He just hoped she didn’t have any more bad
news. He wasn’t all that sure he could take it.

Chapter 11

As he got closer, it appeared that Alex had
worried for nothing. Elise looked happy to see him, until he made
it to the front porch.

She frowned a moment, then said, “I see
Sandra made it safely back to town.”

“Not that I know of. Why do you say
that?”

Elise gingerly pulled an ironed white linen
handkerchief out of the front pocket of her blue jeans and dabbed
the edge of it with her tongue. Alex felt sheepish as she rubbed at
his cheek vigorously, displaying the unmistakable hint of lipstick
now on the cloth.

Elise said, “It looks like some woman was
trying to mark her territory with glossy red lipstick.”

He stammered. “There’s really a very simple
explanation how that lipstick got on my cheek.”

Elise suddenly turned away. “It’s none of my
business. Save your breath, Alex.”

Alex was still trying to explain what had
happened when Sheriff Armstrong’s patrol car pulled up in front of
the inn. There was another man in uniform with the sheriff, and
from the look of his outfit, he worked for the state police. Alex
thought now maybe somebody would believe him when he suggested that
Reg’s murder and Emma’s fall were somehow related. He only hoped
the two men’s presence didn’t signal another murder.

Armstrong ignored Elise, an officious look on
his face. “Alex, I’ve got someone here I’d like you to meet.”

When the state policeman joined them, Alex
introduced Elise, then himself, as he offered his right hand to the
patrolman.

The state policeman took it in a grip as firm
as Alex’s. The fellow, somewhere in his mid-twenties, sported a
blond fuzzy crewcut and crystal blue eyes. His uniform looked
freshly pressed, and Alex was nearly blinded by the shine on the
officer’s shoes. He was a large powerful man, almost too handsome,
but the officer’s open sincere smile made Alex feel at ease until
he offered a tip of his hat to Elise. There was no doubt about it;
Alex was startled to find that he was jealous.

The officer said, “I’m Sergeant Hicking with
the State Bureau of Investigation. I understand you’ve had some
activity out here in the past few days.”

Alex offered a deep frown. “A bit too much
for me. I’m glad the sheriff called for some help.”

Armstrong stepped up and said, “It’s my
prerogative to call for assistance whenever I feel it’s warranted.
I asked the SBI to send somebody over to give me an opinion or two
about the Wellington case.”

The SBI officer said, “We function as an
advisory

agency. Sometimes another set of eyes can see
something in an investigation that others may have overlooked.”

From the look on Armstrong’s face, Alex knew
the sheriff must have had mixed emotions about calling in the SBI.
The sheriff had to be concerned that even if the case was solved
now, his opponent in the election would claim Armstrong couldn’t
have done it alone. That didn’t matter one bit to Alex. Solving
Reg’s murder was all that counted, and Armstrong’s stock went up
with Alex the moment he had called for reinforcements.

Alex asked, “So do you agree the two
incidents are connected?”

Hicking’s eyes perked up like a hawk spying
fresh prey. “There’s been another murder?”

Armstrong waved off Alex’s words. “No, sir.
Mr. Winston has the firm belief that one of his other guests was
pushed off a rock this morning.”

Elise surprised Alex when she stepped in. “I
believe it too, Sheriff. Emma Sturbridge looked to be as surefooted
as a mountain goat. I can’t imagine her falling.”

That got Hicking’s attention back to Elise,
just where Alex didn’t want it.

“Are you a guest here, or are you Mr.
Winston’s girlfriend, by any chance?”