Reservations for Murder - Tim Myers [12]
“That was the only way I could get your attention. Alex, in all the years we’ve known each other, how many times have I asked you for a favor?”
He started to answer when Shantara continued, “I mean besides having the fair here at Hatteras West.”
“Never,” Alex admitted.
Shantara looked gravely into his eyes, then said, “Well, they’re coming in a flood, because this is going to be the second thing I’ve ever asked you to do for me. Alex, you’ve got to find out who really killed Jefferson Lee. The only thing is, you can’t ask why it’s so important to me. Just believe me when I tell you it is, more than you’ll ever know.”
Alex protested, “I’m not a cop, Shantara, I’m not even some fancy private detective. What makes you think I can find out who killed Jefferson Lee?”
“You were always good with puzzles, Alex, and you’ve got a way of making people talk to you. You really listen! Do you know how rare that is in this world? Will you do this, Alex? For me?”
“I don’t know what I can do,” Alex said, then added quickly, “but I’ll try my best. For you.”
Shantara gave Alex one of her rare hugs, then released him just as quickly as she’d embraced him.
Despite his best intentions to stay out of the murder investigation, Alex suddenly found himself right back in the middle of things.
And he still didn’t have a clue why Shantara was convinced that Jefferson Lee’s murder had anything to do with her.
Shantara had persuaded Alex to let her exhibitors stay at the inn during the two days of the fair at a greatly reduced rate long before the festivities had moved to Hatteras West’s grounds. Elise hadn’t even been able to disagree, since it was an extremely slow time for them anyway, and it did manage to fill up the rooms. The only room they had reserved for the weekend was #7, where Evans Graile was staying while his house was being renovated. Evans was an agreeable old man with a sharp eye and a soft voice; he never missed a thing and wasn’t reticent at all about sharing his newfound information. Most days, he watched the outside world in one of the lobby’s comfortable chairs from early morning till late into the night, and honestly, Alex had grown accustomed to his presence, but he’d been noticeably absent over the past few hours. Alex wondered where in the world the man could be.
Jefferson Lee had demanded the inn’s nicest suite for himself, but Alex had refused to move Evans from his room. Jefferson had insisted that he was the fair s biggest draw, and Alex realized ironically that he’d turned out to be just that.
A thought suddenly occurred to him. Maybe there was something in Jefferson’s room that would give Alex a handle on who had killed him. It was time to honor his word to Shantara and see if he could uncover who had murdered Jefferson Lee.
Alex felt like a ghoul and a burglar creeping into the room of the dead man. He knew the sheriff wouldn’t approve of his snooping, even though Alex could probably justify his presence in some capacity as the innkeeper.
Jefferson Lee was as neat in private as the image he showed the world. His clothes were carefully folded in the Shaker-style dresser Alex’s grandfather had built, and his toilet articles in the bathroom were arranged in an orderly fashion on the countertop. It was almost as if Jefferson had known he was going to die and hadn’t wanted anyone to judge him by the condition of his room. Alex had once had an aunt who always cleaned her house meticulously before going on vacation, just in case something happened to her while she was traveling. The irony was that she’d died when she slipped in the tub while cleaning it just before going on safari.
Alex was just about to open the writing desk drawer when the door behind him flew open. He felt his heart hammer in his chest until he saw Elise standing in the doorway.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
“Come in and shut the door,” Alex whispered fiercely. “I don’t want anybody to know I’m in here.”
Elise stepped inside and closed the door behind her.