Room for Murder - Tim Myers [36]
At Sandra’s urging, he called Mor Pendleton the next day. “Mor, Emma’s going to be out this morning. Why don’t you go pick her up?”
There was silence on the other end of the line, then Mor said, “I can’t make it. Alex, I’m buried with work right now with Les out of town.”
Alex said, “You can put that stuff off, Mor, and you know it. Emma needs you.”
Mor exploded. “She thinks I killed him, Alex. Can you imagine how that feels?”
Alex said, “Mor, I know you have every right to be upset, but she did it for you.”
“That’s just it. She was so sure I killed that snake that she confessed to killing him herself.”
Alex said, “She knows she made a mistake. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’ll apologize if you just give her the chance.”
There was more silence, then Mor said heavily, “It’s too late for that, Alex.”
Elise had been standing near the telephone listening to Alex’s side of the conversation. As he hung up, she said, “I don’t even have to ask how that went. He’s pretty upset, isn’t he?”
“That’s putting it mildly. A friendly face should be there to pick Emma up, don’t you think?”
Elise said, “Why don’t you go down to the station and take her home? I can handle things here.”
“Would you like to go yourself? She might need a shoulder to cry on, and you’re better at that than I am. I don’t mind doubling up out here.”
Elise asked, “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Emma needs you right now more than Hatteras West does.”
She kissed him on the cheek and said, “Thanks, Alex. I’ll try not to be gone too long.”
Alex smiled softly to himself after she left. Elise was starting to try to make things right between them again. At least that was something. Blast it all, he still knew in his heart that they belonged together.
So how could he convince her of that?
He’d have plenty of time to think about it during his updated cleaning schedule. There was enough work to keep him busy till twilight.
Greg and Denise, the rockhound couple, checked out of the inn a few minutes before Alex’s noon cutoff time. He had to hustle to get their room ready for his next guests, Harry and Barb Rush. The Rushes hadn’t said anything about their seven-year-old triplets when they’d made their reservations, or their need for three of the inn’s cots.
“Just sign here, Mr. Rush,” Alex said as the rambunctious boys carried on a game of “cowboy” in the lobby, each taking turns dying dramatically on the chairs and the floor.
“Boys,” Mrs. Rush snapped at them, with absolutely no discernable effect.
Harry Rush said, “They’re a little keyed up right now, but don’t worry, they’re as quiet as cobwebs at night.”
Alex knew better, but he kept his comments in check. At least the Rushes were going to be there for just one night.
After he showed them to their room, Alex beat a hasty retreat to the laundry room. It was past two and there was still no sign of Elise. A lunch break had been completely out of the question, and Alex felt his stomach grumbling as he did the laundry. Once everything was going, he stole away to his room just long enough to make a sandwich. When he got back, Alex found that his own master key was suddenly missing.
Alex raced upstairs and found the key in Mrs. Nesbitt’s lock, her door standing ajar.
Pushing the door open, Alex felt his pulse pound in his throat. If something had happened to that sweet old lady with his stolen key, Alex would never forgive himself.
The room was blessedly empty; no sign that anything untoward had happened there.
Alex was just leaving the suite when he heard a man’s scream of outrage come from the newlyweds’ room.
Alex knocked on their door. “What’s wrong? It’s Alex Winston. Open up.”
Paul Jones came to the door, his camera in one hand and a dangling roll of film trailing from the back of his camera. “What happened?” Alex asked.
“Some juvenile delinquents broke in here while I was in the bathroom and ruined my film,” he said as he held the camera and dangling film aloft.
Mr. Rush opened the door on Alex’s first knock. “Sir, I’m afraid one of your boys may have wandered into another