Innkeeping with Murder - Tim Myers [47]
Weston interrupted his thoughts. “You’d better call Smiley O’Reilly and get him out here.” Smiley was the town’s oldest insurance agent, and most of the folks had policies with him. Alex had kept paying the premiums after his father’s death, but he had no idea what the actual policy was worth.
Alex agreed and headed toward the remaining part of the inn. He was almost to the front porch when Chief Weston called out his name. As Alex turned, he saw Smiley’s old Chevy pickup drive up. It was possibly the only running truck in the county in even worse condition than Alex’s own transportation. The vehicles had been a running joke between the two men for a long time.
Smiley popped out of the truck, awfully spry for a man just over eighty years old, though he only admitted to being seventy-eight.
Smiley glanced at the smoldering remnants, shook his head sadly and said, “Heard about the blaze. Figured I might save you a call.” The man invariably dropped the first word or two of every sentence he spoke, and Alex quickly found himself slipping easily into the pattern whenever the two of them talked.
“Good of you to come, Smiley.”
The old man grinned through a set of perfect dentures. “Saw Finster. Mad as a wet hornet.”
Alex laughed, consciously fighting the urge to continue Smiley’s speech pattern. “He’s been after me to sell the place for a while now. I must admit, I probably should have taken him up on it.”
Smiley looked grim for the first time Alex could remember.
Alex asked, “Is there something wrong?”
“About your policy. Should have been more. Doesn’t amount to much.”
Alex felt his blood run cold. He had suspected the premiums were ridiculously low, but truthfully, he had barely managed to pay them as it was.
“Go ahead and give me the bad news. I’m in shock now anyway.”
Smiley looked down at the dirt. “Twenty thousand worth of coverage.”
“For the entire building? You’ve got to be kidding. The wood alone was worth more than that as salvage.”
Smiley looked even more miserable. “Don’t understand. Twenty thousand maximum. Buildings, furnishings, whole blamed property, lighthouse and all.”
Alex couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What? How could that be possible?”
Smiley started squirming. “My fault. Should have got you to carry more. Knew you probably couldn’t afford it. Didn’t ask.”
Alex’s head began to throb. Twenty thousand dollars. Just a portion of the land he owned, even undeveloped, was worth that. Finster’s offer was starting to look awfully good, and for a moment Alex regretted his abrupt behavior. No. No matter how bad things got, he wasn’t about to do business with a rat like Sam Finster.
Alex said, “It’s not your fault, Smiley. You were right, I couldn’t have afforded any more insurance than I carried.”
Smiley had a small expression of relief on his face. “Get the money to you soon. Shouldn’t have to wait.”
“Don’t worry about it, old friend.”
Alex walked Smiley back to his truck and leaned in through the driver’s side window. “Do you think this jalopy will make it back into town, or should I follow you in case you don’t make it?”
Smiley shook his head slightly, the grin slowly returning to his face. “Wouldn’t suggest it. Just have to run you back out here when yours died. See you.”
Alex watched as Smiley drove off. Several of the firefighters were starting to leave, and Alex took a few moments to thank them for their help. He noticed Mor hanging around.
Alex said, “I heard you were