Innkeeping with Murder - Tim Myers [53]
Elise got up from the couch and started pacing around the room. “I don’t have any cash, but my grandmother left me some jewelry that might be worth something.”
Alex said, “I was just kidding. I can’t take your money. If it comes to that, I suppose I could sell Bear Rocks to Grandy. I think that’s the only part of the property he’s really interested in. I could always ask him if I had to.” Alex hated the words the second they were out of his mouth. Bear Rocks meant nearly as much to him as the lighthouse itself. Elise must have seen the hopeless look on his face. “Don’t worry, it’s not going to come to that. We’ll think of something.” Suddenly the front door banged open. From the look of Sheriff Armstrong’s hat and uniform, it had started to rain outside. Armstrong looked somber as he said, “Any chance I could get a cup of coffee?”
Elise said, “I’ll go make a fresh pot.”
Armstrong nodded. “Thank you kindly, Ma’am. I’d appreciate that.”
As she went to the urn in one corner of the room,
Armstrong lowered his voice. “I didn’t want to tell you this in front of Elise. Another body just turned up.”
Elise must have been listening anyway. She walked back to the two men without the promised coffee.
She said, “Sheriff, did you say something about finding another body?”
“Go ahead, Sheriff, she’s going to find out soon enough. Who was it?”
Armstrong said, “Now that’s why I came out here. It was Sam Finster, the real estate man.” Alex moved to the couch and sat down. Armstrong took off his hat and twirled it in his hands. “Here’s the funny part. Somebody called in an anonymous tip and told us where to look for the Cherokee. We get lots of crank calls, but we check them all out anyway. Would you like to guess where we found him?”
Alex shook his head. “I’m more curious about how he died. Care to share that information with me?”
Staring intently into Alex’s face, the sheriff said, “Tell you what, I’ll give you both facts and see what you think. We found Finster in his Cherokee about a mile away from here in the peach grove. It looks like whoever got your friend Reg took Finster out the same way.”
The grove. Peaches had been one of his grandmother’s favorite projects around the property, so the family history went. Apples would have been a better crop for the area, but it had been said that Alex’s grandfather had never learned to say “no” to his wife.
The family’s landholdings were once quite a bit more extensive than the present property. Alex knew I the current owner of that particular parcel of land, a man named Eggars who lived in Florida. Alex had even managed to get permission to pick peaches during the season whenever there was a crop, since Eggars hardly ever came up to North Carolina. He used the land as some sort of tax write-off.
Alex asked, “Any idea about the time of death?”
Armstrong held up his hand. “You’re greedy for information, aren’t you?”
Alex wasn’t in the mood for stonewalling. “I’m also a voter, or have you forgotten about the election?”
“Come on, Alex, take it easy. It’s been a rough couple of days around town.”
Elise spoke up. “Sheriff, you’ve got to realize that we have a vested interest in finding out.”
“Yes Ma’am, I suppose you do at that. We’ve got the time of death narrowed down to between 3 and 5 p.m. today. Doc Drake says there’s no doubt in his mind that the killer used the same murder weapon as before.”
Alex stood up abruptly. “Surely you don’t think Junior killed Reg, pushed Emma, set fire to my inn and managed to knock off Finster all in a few days.”
Armstrong didn’t back down, matching Alex inch-for-inch. “You’re living in some kind of fantasy world, son. Get it through your head. Emma Sturbridge fell or slipped, one or the other. Some kid probably torched your inn. We haven’t found him yet, but we will, don’t you worry about that. As far as Junior Wellington is concerned, pulling him in for questioning was Hicking’s idea, not mine. Sam Finster, that’s what brings me to the purpose of my visit.”
Alex