by Tim Myers
“Alex, this is Doc Drake. Has the sheriff called you yet?”
Alex prepared himself for the worse. “No, what’s happened now?”
“Relax, this is about the Sturbridge case. The medical examiner in Raleigh finally figured out what happened to Emma’s ex-husband, but it took him some time. You’ll never guess what killed Sturbridge.”
Alex said, “I don’t have a clue.”
“A blow to the chest, plain and simple. Evidently Sturbridge was a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. The medical examiner said it was amazing the man lived as long as he did, given the weakened condition of his heart. One shove put him over the edge.”
Alex asked, “Would it have had to be hard enough to leave a bruise?”
Drake sighed. “Not necessarily, but in this case it left a small one. I missed it, Alex. Sturbridge had a tattoo of a mermaid on his chest, and the tail obscured the bruise. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“So what happened?”
“The way it plays out, Sturbridge must have received a blow to the chest, hard enough to stop his heart in its weakened condition, and that was that. It’s a pretty clear case of heart failure.”
“It almost sounds like he died of natural causes,” Alex said.
“Don’t kid yourself. I’m not saying it was intentional, but whoever killed him might as well have put a gun to the man’s head. It’s still murder, no matter how you look at it. Alex, do me a favor, would you?”
“Anything,” Alex said.
“Have the decency to act surprised when Armstrong tells you all this later.”
Alex quickly agreed. “I promise. And Doc? Thanks for calling me.”
“I thought you’d like to know.” After Alex hung up, he couldn’t keep his mind off the way Toby Sturbridge had died. When he’d assumed it had been some exotic poison or even just natural causes, Alex had been certain Mor had nothing to do with it.
But a blow to the chest was something else entirely. He hated the idea, but Alex could easily see Mor giving Sturbridge a punch to the chest to make his point. As Drake had said, it wouldn’t even have had to be that hard, given the man’s condition. But it was still murder.
And it was looking more and more possible that his best friend in the world might have done it after all.
The next day Alex got an early morning telephone call is he was putting out the breakfast bar.
As soon as he heard Sally Anne’s voice, Alex asked her o hold on and said, “Elise, can you spare me for a minute?”
“I can handle this, Alex,” she said. Once he was away from Elise and their guests, he asked Sally Anne, “So what’s up? I figured you’d be jammed with your breakfast crowd.” He could hear the noises of the full diner in the background.
“I just had to call and give you an update,” she said. Conner Shook just left. He’s got some kind of bomb he’s topping on Tracy tonight at the debate. I don’t know what it is, but he was pretty smug about it when he was talking to Dad.”
“Did you call Tracy and tell her? I don’t know if she’s still home, but if she’s not there, you could try her at Shantara’s.”
“Both lines were busy,” Sally Anne said.
“They’re probably talking to each other. Why don’t you try them and I’ll see if I can get through later myself. Anything else?” Alex asked.
“Let’s see, I heard that Luanne Trist is pregnant, Don Rainer made a big donation to your Bridge Committee, oh, and Emma and Mor are on the skids, but you probably already knew that. The biggest thing is that Oxford Hitchcock had a fight with his lady friend in Lenoir right before he died. The sheriff’s going over there this afternoon to talk to her.”
For a small town, a lot seemed to be happening around Elkton Falls. “Thanks for keeping me up to speed, Sally Anne.”
She paused, then said, “There’s something I’m forgetting. Oh yeah, Irma Bean’s all up in arms about a new restaurant coming to town. She was trying to get Dad upset, but he’s not all that worried. He says they won’t be competition for us, but Irma’s frantic.” In the background, Alex heard Buck yell, “Sally Anne.”
“I’ve got to go. I’ll call later, Alex,” she said as she hung up.
Alex thought about what Sally Anne had said as he helped Elise clean up after their guests were through with their meals.
“No bad news, I hope,” Elise said.
Alex emptied the trash. “I’m not sure what to make of it. It turns out Oxford had a fight with his female companion not long before he was murdered. The sheriff’s going to talk with her this afternoon.”
“And you’d love to go with him, wouldn’t you? It’s okay with me if you can talk him into it.”
Alex said, “I appreciate the offer, but I know Armstrong. He’s not going to want me horning in on any of his investigations any more than I already am. No, I’ll stay here and clean the inn with you.”
They split up, as was becoming their custom, and tackled most of the rooms before lunch. Alex was speaking with a travel agent from England about a tour stopping at the inn when Jan and Corki approached the desk, their bags in their hands. The phone call quickly wrapped up, and Alex said, “I forgot you ladies were leaving us today.”
Corki said, “We’re off to another inn.”
Jan added with a twinkle in her eye, “And another souvenir. I’m not entirely certain the Grove Park really qualifies as an inn, despite its name. What am I saying? Who cares? I’m getting a massage tonight.”
Alex knew the Grove Park Inn in Asheville was a truly elegant place, and he shuddered when he thought about the comparisons the ladies would be making that night. “I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time.”
“Your lighthouse will be tough to beat,” Corki said. “It was especially nice of you to turn the light on just for us.”
Alex grinned. “I just wish I could do it every night. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
After the ladies were on their way, Alex figured it would be the perfect time to clean their room, even though there were no new guests scheduled until the next day. He found Elise finishing up Mrs. Nesbitt’s room.
“Why don’t we knock this one out together,” he said as he opened the door to Jan and Corki’s room. Elise nodded and started on the bathroom while Alex dust-mopped the honeyed hardwood floor under the bed.
There was something under his mop; he could hear it skitter across the floor as he drew it to him.
There, along with a wrapper for a candy bar and a torn postcard of the inn, Alex found one of the A’s from his Scrabble game. Either the ladies had lost one of their own tiles there, or Hatteras West had been victimized by another letter thief. If it was from his game, at least there would be one A left for those daring enough to play with a modified pool of letters. He trotted downstairs, and sure enough, the rest of the A’s were gone. When he got back to the room, Elise said, “Where did you run off to?”
“I found a tile from our Scrabble game under the bed. Our game now has just one A.”
Elise said, “I guess you’ll have to get Mor to make you more. Jan and Corki probably think it’s hilarious after the story about the original letter theft. I found this while you were gone.” Inside an envelope with his name on it, Alex read the note from Corki explaining the theft, along with a ten-dollar bill to replace the game.
Alex said, “It’s amazing what some people will take from the inn as a souvenir. You never can tell, can you?” Alex added, “I probably should give Mor a call to see how he’s doing. He’s got to get over this and speak to Emma again. I know it’s tearing them both apart.”
He looked at Elise and could see that she wanted to say something, but she was holding back. Alex said, “Listen, I know it’s probably not any of my business, but they’re my friends and I hate to see this all fall apart.”
“Alex, I love that you’re trying, but you can’t fix everything.”
“I’ve got to at least try.”
Elise said, “You’re a true romantic, aren�
��t you?”
He gestured out to the lighthouse, built by his forefather as a tribute to love, and said, “What can I say? It runs in the family. The only thing I feel bad about is leaving you here alone so much.”
“I’m getting used to it,” she said, adding a grin to ease the jab in her words. “Honestly, I can handle it, we’ve already finished the lion’s share of the work. Now shoo.”
Alex left the last bits of cleaning to her and promised to be back in time to help with the daily laundry.
While it was true he wanted a chance to talk to his best friend, there was more motive behind his actions than his role as Cupid.
Alex had to know if it was possible Mor had killed Sturbridge, whether it had been the intended result or not.
Chapter 12
With Lester Williamson out of town, Alex knew he was taking a long shot going by Mor or Les’s, but the handyman had to go back for tools and parts sooner or later, and Alex hoped to catch him at the shop, where they could talk uninterrupted.
Mor was behind the counter, nibbling on a sandwich as he browsed through one of Les’s many magazines.
“Funny, you don’t strike me as the type to read Architectural Digest,” Alex said.
“It’s better than Modern Bride. I can’t imagine what Les was thinking when he ordered that one.”
Alex said, “He’s got an addiction, there’s no doubt about it. You know how the school kids flock to him when they’re selling magazine subscriptions, and he doesn’t have the heart to say no. Speaking of modem brides, have you talked to Emma lately?”
Mor pushed his sandwich way. “Alex, I know you mean well, but don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Alex tried to ask as innocently as he could manage.
“Don’t butt in,” Mor said. The two of them had been friends for so long that bluntness had long been one of the cornerstones of their relationship.
Alex said, “Okay, I won’t say what a pigheaded monkey you’re being about all this, and how you should be honored somebody would be willing to go to jail for you. I won’t even say how I doubt there’s another soul in the world willing to do that, and that includes me.”
Mor said, “For somebody who’s not going to say anything, you’re doing an awful lot of talking.”
Alex said, “What can I say, I’m a master noncommunicator.”
“Since you’re so all fired up to discuss my love life, let’s talk about yours. You never did tell me what happened between you and Elise on your big date.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” Alex admitted, uneasy with the spotlight turned back on him.
“Come on, Buddy, I know better than that. What happened?”
Alex said, “You want to know the truth? It was a disaster, from start to finish. I’m surprised she’s even still talking to me.”
“You didn’t do anything stupid, did you?” Mor asked.
“No, not what you’re thinking, but I surely made plenty of mistakes.”
Mor finished his sandwich with one bite, took a swig of chocolate milk, then said, “Did anything happen that can’t be fixed?”
“That’s kind of what I wanted to know about you and Emma,” Alex said, holding his ground.
Mor seemed to think about it, then shrugged. “I’ll get over it. I’ve gotta tell you, it stings to have her think I could do something like that.”
Alex knew he had to tread lightly now. He said, “It’s hard to believe he died waiting for you in your truck. Listen, I understand if you didn’t want to tell Armstrong, but are you sure you didn’t speak to him before you found him?”
Mor stood, and Alex realized yet again just how physically powerful his friend was. Intimidation alone would stop most men from pushing, but the two of them had been friends too long for Alex to let that happen.
Mor said, “I told him the truth, Alex. I didn’t say ‘Boo’ to the man, and I surely didn’t lay a hand on Toby Sturbridge, not that I wouldn’t have been tempted if I’d known he was here.”
Alex nodded. “That’s good enough for me.”
“I’m so glad you believe me,” Mor said sarcastically as he wadded up the wrapper from his sandwich and shot it at the trash can. It ricocheted off an old-fashioned jukebox waiting for parts and trickled lamely into the can.
“Bank shot,” Mor called out after the fact.
Looking for some way to end their conversation on a better note, Alex asked, “Hey, are you going to the debate tonight?”
Mor said, “Are you kidding? It’s going to be better than anything on television, that’s for sure. I’m getting there early so I can get a good seat.”
“I’ll see you there, then. Save me a spot. And Mor, think about what I didn’t say.”
Mor nodded. “I’ll try my best not to.”
As Alex left, he realized he’d done all he could. Now it was up to Mor to swallow the remnants of his hurt pride and move on with his life.
That was one thing Alex couldn’t do for him.
While he was in town, Alex decided he might as well go by Armstrong’s office and see if he’d gotten back from his interview with Oxford’s lady friend. Maybe he’d found something to divert his suspicion away from Tracy. With the election just around the corner, any kind of cloud over her candidacy could spell disaster for her and put Conner Shook in the mayor’s office.
The sheriff was at his desk, frowning at a stack of papers in front of him. Alex could sympathize. As an innkeeper, sometimes he felt he was drowning in paperwork, and he didn’t have to deal with nearly as much bureaucracy as the sheriff must have faced every day.
Alex sat in the chair across from the sheriff and said. “Have got a second?’ I’d like to talk to you.”
Armstrong leaned back in his chair and said. “Yeah. I’ve been meaning to come back out to the inn, but things have been a little crazy around here lately.”
“What’s on your mind?” Alex asked
The sheriff riffled through the papers, then pulled out an official-looking document with the North Carolina state seal on it. He tossed it at Alex, then said “It’s the report from the medical examiner in Raleigh. Sturbridge died from a blow to the chest.”
Alex caught himself before he admitted he already had that particular bit of information. He studied the report, then said, “It looks like it didn’t take much, did it?”
Armstrong said, “No, but any way you cut it, it’s still murder.”
“So what are you going to do now?”
The sheriff said, “I’m not going to bother sitting down with Emma Sturbridge and Mor Pendleton and talking. Sandra won’t let them say a word. I’ve got to dig into it a little deeper before I approach anybody else.”
Alex said lightly, “I heard a rumor that you were going to talk with Oxford Hitchcock’s girlfriend today. Any luck with her?”
Armstrong snapped, “I swear this town needs something to do besides keeping tabs on me. Yeah, I talked to her, but she’s in the clear.”
Alex said, “That must have been some alibi.”
The sheriff nodded. “She was in Hickory getting an emergency appendectomy the night Oxford was murdered That’s as good as it gets in my book.”
“So you’re back to square one on that case,” Alex asked.
“Alex Winston, are you telling me you’re butting your nose into two of my investigations?”
Alex admitted, ‘Tracy asked me to keep my eyes open, and that’s what I’m doing. I’m not trying to interfere at all. Sheriff. Trust me. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is.”
That seemed to mollify the sheriff somewhat. “Tracy Shook frets too much, she always has. You’d think she’d be occupied with this big debate tonight instead of worrying about what I’m up to.”
“To be honest with you, she’s probably worried about both.”
The sheriff said, “She’d better focus on Conner, at least for tonight. I was at the barbershop this morning and he was getting a trim. Man, that guy holds a grudge. He’s been telling everyone in
sight that he’s coming after his ex-wife with both guns blazing.”
Alex suddenly had a thought. “Have you considered the possibility that Conner might have had something to do with Oxford’s murder?”
Armstrong looked surprised by the prospect. “You think he might have killed his own candidate? Why would he do that, Alex, when everybody knew Oxford was in the lead in the race? He was looking like a shoo-in.”
Alex said, “Maybe he wanted to beat Tracy himself. Or maybe there was more going on there than anybody knows about. He could have his own reasons.”
“I’ve talked to him a little about the case, and he didn’t strike me as that likely a suspect,” the sheriff admitted.
“I wouldn’t write him off just yet,” Alex said. “There could be more there than meets the eye.”
Armstrong just shrugged as his telephone rang. “Excuse me, Alex, I’ve got to take this. I’ve been waiting for a call from Raleigh all afternoon.”
After that, there was nothing else he could think to do. Alex left the station and headed back to the inn. It was time to work at his real job and leave the detecting to the professionals.
Later that night, Alex heard a voice beckon him near the front of the auditorium as he walked into the cavernous place. “Hey. I thought you’d be here with Elise.” Mor said as he made room for Alex. “I saved two seats for you guys.”
“She didn’t feel right leaving our guests alone.” Alex admitted. “I know you still haven’t called Emma, or she wouldn’t be out at Hatteras West keeping Elise company. They’re listening to it on the radio together.”
Mor shook his head. “That’s not going to be nearly as good. Radio’s no good for this. You can’t see the flinches, the flushed faces, or smell the fear in the air.”
Alex asked, “So who are you supporting anyway?”
Mor smiled. “I was thinking about writing your name in on my ballot.”
Alex said, “Tell you what, I’ll make you a deal. I won’t vote for you if you don’t vote for me.”
Irma Bean brushed past them as Alex called out to her. He said, “I can’t believe it. Irma Bean isn’t at her restaurant at night?”