Innkeeping with Murder - Tim Myers [45]
Mor said, “We’re still not sure, but the chief says it looks like arson.”
“Arson?” That thought had never crossed Alex’s mind. Unlike the original it had been based on, the structure had been nearly solid wood, from the walls to the floors to the ceilings to the exterior. He had assumed that faulty wiring or something of that nature had destroyed the building. “My God, who would want to burn down my inn?”
Mor coughed lightly. “Were there any guests in the main house? I hate to ask, but we need to know.”
Alex blew out a sigh of relief. “No, we were slow, so I decided to keep everyone in the annex. I thought it would be easier to keep track of everybody that way.”
Mor looked visibly relieved. “Excuse me a minute, I’ll go tell the chief. He’ll be glad to hear it.”
Elise had quietly joined Alex. The two of them stood in silence, staring at the still-smoking ground where the main keeper’s house had once stood. Alex yearned to sift through the debris, searching for any lost relic of his past, but Elise gently restrained him, keeping her hand on his shoulder.
She said, “When everyone’s gone and the ashes have cooled, I’ll help you look for anything we can salvage.”
Alex said, “Do you think there’s a chance the fire had anything to do with Reg’s murder and what happened to Emma?”
“Don’t say anything to Armstrong about it. He still doesn’t believe Emma’s fall was really a push.”
Alex twisted around and looked deeply into her eyes. “You believe me, don’t you, Elise?”
She said softly, “Something strange is going on around here, but if we’re going to convince anyone else, we’re going to have to get proof first.”
A shiny black Porsche pulled up to the inn, probably a tourist trying to see what had caused the black towers of smoke. Alex didn’t pay it any attention, but Elise suddenly dropped her hand from Alex’s shoulder.
“What’s wrong,” he asked her as a tall, handsome man with longish blonde hair got out.
Instead of answering, Elise hurried to him. “Peter. What are you doing here?”
Alex was close enough to hear them as the man said, “I was worried about you. Your cousin told me you were out here! When I saw the smoke, I was afraid I’d lost you forever.” He hugged her tightly, and Alex felt a tug of jealousy. Peter had to be the mysterious fiance.
Elise broke from the embrace, then led her fiance to Alex. “Alex Winston, this is Peter Asheford. Peter, this is my new boss, Alex.”
“So it’s true, you’re actually working as a maid,” Peter said to Elise after shaking Alex’s hand briefly. “Elise, we need to talk about this. Can we go somewhere?”
“Excuse me,” Alex said. “I’ve got to see about what’s left of my inn.”
All hopes of winning Elise’s heart were gone for Alex. He knew he couldn’t compete with Peter Asheford in looks or money. The way the man gazed at her, it was obvious he was in love with her.
Elise said, “Peter, Alex needs me here.”
Alex absently waved a hand in the air. “There’s nothing you can do, Elise. Go with him.”
Elise looked startled by his answer, but Peter jumped on the response. As he steered Elise toward the Porsche, he said, “There’s a quaint little diner in town. Let’s go have a cup of coffee. I’ve missed you so much, Elise.”
As the sports car drove away, Sam Finster’s Cherokee passed it on the driveway of Hatteras West.
Finster’s sympathy was as natural as machine-made snow, and just about as warming, too. Surveying the damage, he shook his head from side to side.
“It’s a darn shame losing such a fine old building. Have you kept your insurance paid up?”
Alex ignored the question. “How’d you hear about the fire, Finster?”
The man cracked a smile. “I’ve got my sources. To get ahead, a fella’s got to stay on top of things in this old
world.” Alex figured the vulture had most likely been eavesdropping on his police scanner. It was reported to be one of Finster’s best sources for leads. The second a homeowner died, Finster was at the funeral home making arrangements with the grieving widow to sell the home.
Finster repeated, “Alex, this is important.