Reservations for Murder - Tim Myers [65]
Cynthia said, “Donate your share to the poor if it eases your conscience, Steven. I for one earned every dime coming to me.”
“We all did,” Ashley said.
Steven stood abruptly. “It’s getting a little stale in here. I need some fresh air.”
Ashley snapped, “You’ll just have to get it later, little Brother. Nobody’s going anywhere until this lawyer shows up.”
Alex watched openly as Steven and Ashley locked glares. The older sister ultimately won as Steven reluctantly slipped back into his seat.
Alex was so caught up in the exchange between the brother and sister that he was startled when Sheriff Armstrong walked into the inn. Normally, Alex knew it whenever a car approached on the gravel entrance outside. As the sheriff headed straight for Alex, the innkeeper had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was there to deliver bad news. Armstrong didn’t come to Hatteras West on many social calls; something had to have happened to dynamite him off his barstool at Buck’s Grill.
“Afternoon, Sheriff,” Alex said, trying to act more casual than he felt.
“Alex, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”
“What is it?” Alex asked as a wave of dread swept over him.
“It’s your uncle. I’m afraid he’s dead.”
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Reservations for Murder