Reservations for Murder - Tim Myers [48]
But she wasn’t Elise.
Sandra didn’t reach for Alex’s check as she grabbed hers, something she’d always done when they’d dated. It had underscored how much more she made as a successful lawyer than he did as an innkeeper, and it had bothered him more than he cared to admit.
“Come on, pay your check and let’s go. I’ve got the top down on my convertible,” Sandra said as she headed for the door.
“Are you sure you have to go straight back to the hospital? It’s a beautiful afternoon for a drive.”
“Sorry, Sandra, but I need to get back.” Instead of arguing, she pulled into the hospital parking lot and headed straight for Alex’s truck. The gray Ford was hard to miss.
She stopped in front of his spot, and Alex hopped out. “Thanks for the ride, Sandra.”
She smiled broadly at him. “You’re very welcome. Thanks for keeping me company. Call me, Alex. Any time. No strings, no ulterior motives.”
As she sped away, Alex suddenly felt someone else’s presence nearby.
He normally wasn’t all that jumpy, but as Alex got his car keys out, he felt a tap on his shoulder and promptly dropped his keys on the ground.
When he turned around, the last person on earth he wanted to see was standing right behind him.
Chapter 18
Craig Monroe leaned over and scooped up Alex’s keys before he could grab them himself. Instead of giving them back, Craig enveloped them in his meaty fist. The potter’s strong hands reminded Alex that he’d easily have the strength to dispatch Jefferson Lee.
“There you are. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming back.”
Alex’s eyes scanned the parking lot for some kind of witness, but it was remarkably deserted for that time of day.
“How’s Marilynn doing?”
“Still no change,” Craig grunted. “Alex, I need to talk to you.”
“I’m listening,” Alex said warily.
Craig shook his head. “Not here, it’s a little too public.”
What was he talking about? The parking lot was practically abandoned.
“Craig, I’ve got an inn to run. I’m late as it is, and Mor’s relieving me at the desk. Can I have my keys? I need to go.”
Craig looked surprised that he still had Alex’s keys locked in his fist. He gave them to Alex as he said, “Can I come out to Hatteras West later? It’s important.”
“Okay,” Alex said. Anything to get out of the parking lot. “See you later.”
At least he’d have a chance to prepare for the encounter, and Hatteras West was his own turf. Alex suddenly had a flash of inspiration. He’d get Mor to hang around and back him up, just in case.
When Alex walked back into the inn, Mor was alone at the desk, looking glum.
“You look like you just lost your best friend,” Alex said.
Instead of the playful retort he expected, Mor muttered, “I don’t want to talk about it.” He stood and grabbed his jacket. “If you don’t need me here anymore, I’m getting hungry.”
Alex said, “To be honest with you, I was kind of hoping you’d be able to hang around. I’m sure I can find something for you in the refrigerator.”
“Sorry, but I’ve got to hit the road.”
Alex said, “Any chance of you coming back later?” He suddenly felt awkward, asking Mor to hang around to protect him.
“No, I need some time to think, Alex. I’ll catch you later.”
It was just as well that Mor couldn’t stay. Alex suddenly felt foolish worrying about the potter. He had no real reason to suspect the man was a murderer.
While he was waiting, Alex wanted to talk to Dave
Jeffries and see if they’d found any clues in the mass of spilled papers at the blacksmith’s shop. Alex spoke to the dispatcher at the police station and asked, “Is Officer Jeffries around anywhere?”
The dispatcher said, “I’m sorry, he’s on special assignment for the sheriff.”
Alex sighed, then said, “Listen, when he gets back in, have him call Alex Winston at Hatteras West, would you?”
“I’ll leave him a note, but I can’t make any promises. He’s probably going to be tied up all night.”
Alex hung up the telephone, wondering what else he