by Tim Myers
After Leah and Eve were gone, Elise said, “Alex, may I speak with you a moment?”
“Sure thing,” Alex said as he joined her at the buffet to grab something for himself. In his haste of the morning he’d neglected to eat anything, and there was no way he could tackle cleaning rooms on an empty stomach. He grabbed a cherry muffin and an orange juice, then followed Elise into his office. As he crossed the threshold, he wondered if she’d made her decision so quickly.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked. Suddenly his appetite was completely gone.
“I’m worried about the inn. Do you think you should bring in someone who specializes in property rights? I’m not saying anything bad about Sandra, but she’s a trial lawyer. I’m not certain she’s who you need.”
“Believe me, Sandra knows her limitations. She’s looking into this, calling some of her colleagues to get their opinions. It wouldn’t surprise me if she had her law school class reunion booklet out and was making calls right now. Until we find out more, there’s nothing we can do about it except try to go about our business. Is there anything else I need to know about?”
“Sally Anne called a while ago. She’s pulling out of the muffin contest. She said something about understanding, and that there was a fresh peach cobbler waiting for you at Buck’s.”
“Okay, I understand. Is there anything else you want to talk about?”
Elise hesitated, then said, “No, not yet, but there will be soon, I promise.”
“That’s all I ask,” Alex said. “If it’s okay with you,” he added, “I think I’ll tackle my rooms by myself. I’ve got a lot to think about.”
She nodded and said, “So do I,” as she left.
There was a great deal more he wanted to discuss with her, but Alex knew there was no rushing her now. He’d laid his heart out for her one last time. That was all he could do. The rest was up to her.
He took a bite of the muffin as he looked out the window and had just about recovered his composure when he spotted Patrick Thornton walking past, studying a map held in his hands as if it showed the way to the Holy Grail.
All of a sudden Alex didn’t have much of an appetite anymore. He threw what was left of the muffin into the trash can, drained the juice, and decided it was time to salvage what he could of his day. If his time as the innkeeper at the Hatteras West Inn was nearing its close, he wanted to be sure he gave it everything he had, to the very end.
Alex knew that Patrick Thornton’s room was unoccupied, so he decided to start there first. Though Thornton could be bringing about the end of Alex’s life as he knew it, there was no way the innkeeper in him could keep Alex from doing the very best job he could.
After vacuuming the throw rug and sweeping the hardwood floor in the surveyor’s room, Alex noticed the edge of something sticking out from under the dresser. It was a rolled up sheet of paper, and at first Alex thought it might be the edge of the tube Thornton had stashed away in his toilet. It wasn’t the tube, but it did appear to be something that had been stored in a cylinder. Alex carefully unrolled the sheet, not sure what he was going to find. It turned out to be the oddest thing, a computer printout of an analysis on a sample recently sent to a lab in Raleigh. Alex read down the list of components until one stopped him short. He looked further and read the summary at the end of the analysis. Wherever that test sample had come from, there had been gold present in a large enough quantity to catch anyone’s attention. Now why would a surveyor have that in his room? Alex suddenly remembered the gold found in Cliff’s pocket. Had it been a lucky talisman, something like Reston Shay’s meteorite, or was it somehow tied to the surveyor? Could Patrick Thornton’s real reason for being at Hatteras West have something to do with that sheet of paper in Alex’s hand? He rolled the sheet back up into a cylinder and put it in his shirt pocket. Alex had let one possible piece of evidence get past him by not opening the tube when he’d found it. There was no way he was going to let something else escape his attention. He raced downstairs, made a copy of the sheet, then hurriedly put the original back where he’d found it.
He considered finding Elise and sharing his latest information with her, but there were rooms to clean yet, and nothing so urgent about the paper that she needed to be told immediately. Besides, he wanted more time to mull over what his latest discovery could mean before he brought it to Elise’s attention.
That afternoon they were dusting the Main Keeper’s Quarters’ lobby when the telephone rang. Since Elise was closest, she picked it up and answered, “Hatteras West Inn.”
Alex loved to hear her say it, no matter how many times she repeated the phrase.
Elise frowned slightly, nodded, then said, “I’ll get him, he’s right here.”
She covered the mouthpiece with her hand and said, “It’s Sandra. She’s got some news for you.”
Alex hurried to the phone, wondering if the fate of his inn had already been sealed.
“Hi, Sandra. What did you find?”
“Easy, Alex, I just got started, but I’ve talked with a few friends of mine, one in Charlotte and the other in Greensboro, and I think you’ve got a real chance, regardless of what the surveyor finds.”
“What do you mean? How is that possible?”
Sandra said, “Hang on a second, let me get my notes. Blast it all, I left them in my briefcase, which happens to be out in the car at the moment. Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll call you right back.”
“I don’t need the legalese, you can paraphrase if you’d like.”
Sandra said, “Okay, what it boils down to is there’s a case to be made that because you’ve been maintaining the property as long as you have, with the other owner’s apparent knowledge, you’ve got rights to the land legally.”
“So I get my lighthouse and land back by default? No thanks. Sandra, I don’t want it that way. If it’s not mine by all rights, I don’t have a claim to it at all.” It killed him to say it, but it was true. He couldn’t, in all good conscience, keep anything that didn’t belong to him, even if it meant giving up the lighthouse he so loved. By keeping the place on shady moral grounds, the property would be tainted forever for Alex. The problem was, Alex couldn’t afford to buy the rest of the lighthouse back; he could barely pay for the inn’s day-to-day operation. “Thanks anyway.”
Sandra said, “Alex Winston, if you think I’m dropping this, you’ve clearly lost your mind. I know how much that overgrown nightlight means to you, and if there’s any way in the world I can save it for you, I’m going to.”
“I do appreciate it, but a loophole’s not going to do. If my father or grandfather sold that land in good faith, I’m not going to be the one to break it. Are we clear on that?”
“You’re tying my hands, but it’s what I expected from you. Sorry I couldn’t come up with a slam dunk for you.”
“I appreciate you trying,” Alex said as he hung up.
Elise had approached and was hanging on every word. “It’s hopeless, isn’t it?”
Alex touched her shoulder lightly. “Of course not. Sandra said there might be something we can do.”
As a tear tracked down Elise’s cheek, she said, “I heard you, Alex. You’re going to insist on your ancestor’s intent, aren’t you?”
“It’s too soon to start worrying about that now. We’ve got to get on with our lives.”
The telephone rang again and Alex reached for it, happy for the diversion. “Hatteras West,” he said, hoping Sandra might have come up with something else.
“Hey, buddy,” Mor said.
“Oh, it’s you.”
Mor laughed. “Well, I’ve had warmer greetings, I’ll tell you that. I hope you drag out a little more enthusiasm for your guests than you do for me.”
Alex couldn’t help feeling cheered by his friend’s happy abuse. “Yeah, well, I’m making an exception for you. What’s up?”
“Emma’s been dying to use that free dinner offer we all got from Monet before the man gets run out of town.”
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Alex could hear Emma Sturbridge Pendleton in the background saying, “Mordecai, you tell him the truth. You’re the one who’s looking for a free meal.”
Alex said, “I heard that.”
Mor answered, “Yeah, my stomach’s been rumbling an awful lot lately.”
In the background, Emma said, “Tell him.”
Mor covered the phone with a hand, but Alex could still hear him say, “Woman, I’m on the phone here.”
Alex shook his head, wondering when the conversation would include him again.
Elise asked, “Who is it?”
He covered the mouthpiece and said, “It’s Mor and Emma. They want to go out to Monet’s Garden tonight, but I don’t think I’m up to it.”
“Come on, Alex, we need to do something to cheer us up.”
“What about our guests?” he asked.
“They’ll be fine without us for a little while. Let’s go. It could be fun.”
Mor said, “Alex, you still there?”
“Right here,” Alex said.
“So what do you say? Are you two interested?”
Alex said, “Okay. Do you want me to call Monet and make the reservation?”
“From what I’ve heard, it’s pretty much deserted, but I’ll call him myself to make sure he’s got room for us. See you at seven.”
After he hung up, Alex said, “They want to eat dinner at seven. Things should quiet down by then. We can hope as much, anyway.”
As he spoke, Alex saw Fiona White drive up and slam her car door out in the parking lot. From the angry expression on her face, Alex knew he was in for another gale force assault.
Fiona said, “What’s this I’ve been hearing around town that one of your guests is claiming I stole my muffin recipe from some hack in Charlotte?”
“She wasn’t accusing you of anything,” Alex said. “She just thought they were remarkably similar.”
“If she doesn’t have the nerve to say it to my face, she should keep her trap shut,” Fiona said harshly.
Elise said, “You’re talking about an innocent comment made by one of our guests. I think you’re overreacting, Fiona.”
The Muffin Lady said, “You do, do you? Nobody’s attacking your character, are they?”
“Take it easy,” Alex said.
“I won’t take it at all, easy or otherwise. A fat lot of support I’ve gotten from you two. You’d better call Buck’s Grill and see if Sally Anne has any more of those rocks she calls muffins for you in the morning.”
“You can’t do that, we’ve got an agreement,” Elise said.
“Consider it off. I won’t sell to a place that stabs me in the back.”
“Then we won’t pay you,” Elise said firmly. “The agreement was that you would supply our muffins till the end of the week, and if you don’t make the last delivery in the morning, and by six-thirty at that, you can forget about getting paid.”
Fiona stared at Elise for thirty seconds, but Alex knew she was wasting her time. There was no way Elise would back down, not after stating her position so firmly.
“I’ll do it, but they’re the last muffins you’ll ever get from me,” Fiona said.
Alex tried to say something to ease the tension, but she stormed off before he could get the words out.
“What do we do now?” Elise asked. “Our guests are expecting muffins every morning as a part of their breakfasts.”
“I guess we’d better call Sally Anne and see if she can fit us back in. I don’t care how good Fiona’s muffins are, I won’t have another one at Hatteras West after tomorrow, not with the way she just acted.”
Elise nodded. “I couldn’t agree with you more. But what are you going to say to Sally Anne?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I imagine there will be some begging and pleading involved.”
“I’ll talk to her if you’d like. After all, I got us into this mess.”
Alex said, “Not without a lot of help from me. Don’t worry, it will be fine. Do you still want to go to dinner?”
“Absolutely. I need something to get this bad taste out of my mouth.”
Alex asked, “What taste is that?”
“Burnt muffins.”
Chapter 19
“Wow, people are staying away in droves,” Mor said as their foursome walked up to the front door of Monet’s Garden later that evening. Though it was prime dinner hour, the parking lot was half-empty.
On the drive over, Elise had done her best to fill the time with idle chitchat and speculation, carefully avoiding the one subject Alex wanted to discuss more than anything else in the world. She’d promised him an answer soon, but how soon was obviously relative. It wasn’t that he wanted to start dating immediately, but the quicker he found out which direction his life was heading, the better. He could stand losing her, though it would hurt. It was the fact of not knowing where he stood that was killing him. Losing the inn would be another blow, one which he wasn’t certain he could ever recover from.
Emma said, “Mor Pendleton, we are here as the owner’s guests. I expect you to be civil.”
He grinned at her, then said, “I don’t suppose there’s any harm in expecting it, just as long as you’re not mad when it doesn’t happen.” He pretended to fend off a mock blow as he added, “I’m kidding.”
Emma rolled her eyes as she walked ahead, but Alex could see a slight smile peeking through.
When they walked inside, Monet nearly knocked them I over with his attention. “So glad to have you with us tonight. I’ve reserved the best table in the house for you.” As he led them to a nice table by one of the expansive windows, Monet said, “I trust this is satisfactory.”
Emma fired a preemptive strike before Mor could open his mouth. She said, “It’s delightful.”
After they were seated, he left them with their new menus and said, “Enjoy.”
Mor studied the menu, then said, “Hey, he’s come down on his prices.”
“And the menu items are mostly different, too,” Alex agreed.
Emma said, “But he still has a selection of French cuisine. I believe I’ll try the escargot tonight.”
Mor said, “Snails? I’m ordering a steak. I just hope it’s not charred to a crisp.”
Elise said, “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised. His new chef can handle anything on the menu.”
Alex explained, “We had lunch here the other day. It was really pretty good.” He thought about mentioning that it had been on the house as well, but for once Alex wasn’t in the mood to goad his friend.
After they’d placed their orders, Emma said, “Elise Danton, what are you up to?”
She asked, “What do you mean?”
“There’s something going on here.” She glanced over at Alex, then said, “Is there anything you two would care to share with the rest of us?”
Mor said, “Woman, what are you babbling about?”
Emma retorted, “Shh. Don’t interrupt while the grownups are talking.”
Alex said, “I guess I’d better be quiet too, then.”
Mor nudged him, but didn’t say a word.
“Well?” Emma asked again.
Elise said, “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” They had tacitly agreed not to spoil the evening with speculation about the boundary lines until they knew more about where they stood, or mention the ultimatum Alex had given her about their relationship. It was hard keeping secrets from their best friends, but Alex and Elise both knew it was for the best.
When Alex didn’t say anything else, Emma said, “It must be my imagination then.” Before Mor could say a word, Emma shot him a look that was a clear warning, one that Mor accepted.
“So what’s been going on out at the inn? I still can’t believe somebody took a shot at you two yesterday,” Mor said.
Alex said, “Whoever did it just vanished. Every time I go outside, I can feel a spot the size of a quarter on my chest. I’m pretty shook about this, my friend. I’m afraid t
o let Elise or any of our guests take a step outside.”
Mor said, “Nobody in his right mind can blame you for being concerned.” The big man frowned, then said, “Alex, you haven’t had me out there in quite a while to fix anything. I’m beginning to think you don’t care anymore.”
Alex said, “Tell you what, I’ll try to break something when we get back.”
Mor shook his head. “Hey, I was only kidding. Les has me running around seven counties trying to catch up after our honeymoon.” He shot a quick glance at Emma, then added, “Not that it wasn’t worth every minute of it.”
Emma agreed, then said, “Alex, you really should get away. You haven’t left Hatteras West since I’ve been in Elkton Falls.”
Mor said, “He’s an innkeeper, Emma. He hasn’t left that nightlight of his in donkey years.”
Alex looked at Elise, got her nod of approval, then said, “Actually, there’s a possibility we might be taking a vacation to the coast later. Sort of a busman’s holiday, actually.”
“How fun,” Emma said after hearing Harry Pickering’s proposal.
“It could be,” Alex agreed. If he still had an inn to swap, he added softly to himself, and someone to help him run it.
He turned to Emma and said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something, since you’re our registered gem and precious metal expert.”
“No, I’m sorry, I haven’t a clue if there are still any emeralds on your land,” Emma said. It was one of her responsibilities to be searching for a potential emerald vein somewhere on Winston land, but so far, she’d come up empty.
“I’m not pushing you on that,” Alex said. “What I was wondering about is the possibility of gold anywhere around here.”
“No, the nearest place I know of is Charlotte. The conditions aren’t right around here at all for gold. Why do you ask?”
Alex pulled out the photocopy of the soil analysis paper he’d found in Patrick Thornton’s room. He’d meant to tell Elise about it, but he’d been so distracted by her rare talking jag that he hadn’t gotten the opportunity on the drive over.