Innkeeping with Murder - Tim Myers [8]
Alex could see the clotted blood at the base of Reg’s neck now that he had been turned over.
The sheriff must have heard some of the conversation between the two men above him. He burst onto the upper balcony, his face red from exertion. “Did I hear you boys say something about murder?”
Drake nodded. “Unless Alex’s friend managed to stab himself in the back of the neck and then throw the ice pick away before he died, I’d say that’s about right.”
Armstrong removed his hat, now soaked with sweat,
and wiped the top of his bald head. “Well I’ll be. I solve this one, and I’m sure to be reelected.”
Alex asked, “I don’t suppose there’s any way to keep this quiet now, is there?”
Armstrong shrugged as he said, “Sorry Alex. It’s out of my hands. We’re going to have to have an official police investigation.” He turned to the doctor. “You’re willing to sign the death certificate as foul play?”
“That’s what I said, you gore hound. Have a little respect for the dead, will you?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it,” Armstrong said apologetically. “Alex, I’ll have to shut down the lighthouse until I can get my forensic team over here and dust for prints.”
Alex was confused for a moment. “You mean your cousin Irene? Don’t you think the state police should be in on this? You might need more help than a beautician who freelances as a crime scene specialist.”
Armstrong frowned. “She’s taken all of the required courses, Alex. On our budget, we’re lucky to have her.”
Alex wondered how qualified Irene really was, but she was the only option. “Get her over here quickly then. I don’t want to leave the lighthouse shut down any longer than I have to. It’s the only real attraction I’ve got.”
Armstrong smiled slightly and nodded. “I’ll trot right down and call her now.” The big man flew down the stairs two at a time. He seemed much more spry now that he was investigating a murder.
Doc Drake stayed with Alex on the balcony. “You thought a lot of this fellow, didn’t you?”
Alex kept his eyes off Reg’s body. “He taught me more about lighthouses than my own father did. He was a good man, Doc.”
Drake patted Alex’s shoulder as the two men looked off into the surrounding hills in silence. Alex kept watching the clouds as they rolled in waves toward him. He loved the sky, and the views his lighthouse offered. Now it looked like his days of enjoying the vista would be tainted forever with the memory of Reg’s dead body sprawled on the upper platform.
Alex turned away and started down the steps, suddenly needing to get away from Reg’s body. Drake followed silently; there was obviously nothing else he could do there.
Once they were back on the ground, Alex realized that Armstrong had driven away in the patrol car, leaving the doctor stranded at the inn.
Doc Drake said, “I’ll bet he left without giving me a second thought, heading off to collect Irene, no doubt. Well, it’s no bother. I’ll catch a ride with the ambulance boys later. I’d better call Madge and let her know I’m going to be a while.”
“You can use the telephone in my room, if you need some privacy.”
They walked through the lobby of the inn and back to Alex’s Spartan private living space. It was a mirror image of Marisa’s room, the two having been long ago carved out of a single room.
As Drake went to the telephone, Alex said, “Why don’t I get us some coffee?”
The doctor nodded as he picked up the receiver. Alex shut the door softly, giving the doctor a little privacy to talk with his nurse. Madge King had started working for Drake a few months ago as his nurse and secretary when Mrs. Wembly, a stern older woman Drake had inherited with the practice, had retired.
His new assistant had been the only nurse Drake had interviewed who’d been willing to work in the foothills of the North Carolina Mountains. She and the doctor had hit it off immediately, and there were rumors that wedding bells would soon be heard in the hills. Alex would probably use the nuptials as an excuse to fire up the Fresnel lens. Drake would love the gesture; he was a huge fan of the