Chapter XVI
A sharp knocking at the door disrupted Allie's musings for only a moment. Still lost in her thoughts over Connor's strange behavior the night before, she left the kitchen and walked to the parlor.
Allie opened the front door without peering out first, and, as she swung the door inward, was shocked to see two police officers standing on her porch.
"May I help you?" She worriedly eyed the officers. "I'm Allie Colborne, the owner. Oh, I know you...Mike, is that right?" She nodded to the older officer, recognizing him from the day she had gone to the dock to see her husband's body. "Is something wrong?" She felt confused and couldn't imagine why they were at her door. Had they caught whoever had been trying to break into her inn?
"Is there a Connor Garrison staying here, Mrs. Colborne?" Mike moved closer to the door as he addressed her.
"Yes, he is. I think Mr. Garrison is in his room now, as a matter of fact," she answered, still puzzled at this turn of events.
"We'd like to ask him a few questions, if you don't mind...... getting him, that is."
"May I ask what's happened? I believe I have a right to know, as he is staying here." Allie asserted, becoming extremely curious.
"Everybody knows by now, Mrs. Colborne, I guess there's no harm in telling you," the officer informed her. "A body was discovered this morning in the walkway beside Max's Bar in the village. The owner found him when he was opening up the place. The old man's name was Jake Ayers, and witnesses have told us that Mr. Garrison was the last person to have been seen with him last night in the bar."
Allie froze in stunned silence, her eyes widening as she stared at the officer. "I'll call him down," she told him flatly, blinking. As she turned, she motioned to the officers. "Please come in."
The two men entered, and closed the door behind them, as Allie hurried to the desk. She picked up the phone and dialed Connor's room, nervously glancing at the officers, who stood in front of the door, hats in hands. After what seemed like an eternity, but was, in reality, only a few seconds and two rings, he picked up the phone.
"Connor Garrison." His voice sounded warm and reliable to her, even after last night.
"Connor, there are two officers in the front parlor who want to speak to you," she spoke calmly.
"O....kay." He drew out the word, clearly puzzled. "I'll be right down."
Allie stood tensely at the desk and waited for Connor, wondering if he would be as evasive as he was last night. He hadn't come down for breakfast or lunch today. She didn't know what he could be doing in his room all day, other than avoiding her. After a moment, she saw him quickly descend the stairs. He glanced at her for a moment, and raised his eyebrows, looking perplexed. He strode to the parlor, eyeing the officers as he approached them.
"I'm Connor Garrison." He was cordial, as he put his hands casually on his hips, looking from one to the other. "How can I help you?"
"Mr. Garrison," the older officer began, then halted abruptly, and looked over at Allie...not sure whether to continue.
"I'll wait outside," Allie offered, slightly annoyed. She averted her eyes as she walked past the three men, and grabbed her jacket off the knob by the front door. She walked out into the damp coldness. It would be dark within an hour, she thought. She chose the wicker rocker that was at the far end of the porch. She didn't want to appear to be eavesdropping, after all. In truth, she was dying to know the details, and Connor's role in the man's death.
So, she thought...the facts. Connor had been to Max's Bar last night. He had met a man named Jake Ayers, according to the police, and now that man was dead. And Connor was the last person to have been seen with him. She shuddered from the cold and the sudden chill she felt inside over this unexpected circumstance.
Connor, a murderer? She mulled this thought over in her head. She was convinced that this man was not...could not be a murderer. How could he be? He was thoughtful, and tender, and...Allie suddenly envisioned them in the cave...the images swirled in her head of their love-making. And her heart sank. A murderer couldn't make love like that, could he? She would know if he were an evil person, she reasoned, and Connor was anything but.
Allie wrestled with the image of Connor in the act of killing someone. With his height, and obvious muscular strength, he certainly was physically capable of it, even without a weapon, she imagined. A vision popped in her head of Connor towering over a smaller, helpless older man, wrestling with him, and choking him, until the lifeless victim slumped to the ground at his feet. But, was he capable of murder? Allie shuddered again and pulled her coat around her...shivering. Maybe it had been self-defense. After all, she would have killed Ethan if he had continued his assault.
She wondered who this man Jake Ayers was, and why he was with Connor at the bar. Were they just drinking together? Did they know each other? Was that why Connor seemed so nervous and strange-acting when he came back to the inn that night? Allie's mind was dizzy with questions. She speculated on how the man died. Were the police sure that he had been murdered? Maybe, like Ethan, he had drunk too much in the bar, and suffered a heart attack as he walked home. There were lots of possible scenarios, Allie surmised.
She rubbed her hands together to get them warm. Would the police arrest Connor? She wondered if they would be walking out soon....Connor, his handsome, dark head bowed in submission, his strong hands cuffed behind him. She imagined him looking at her from beneath his lowered thick brows, his beautiful blue eyes clouded with humiliation for her to see him in that condition.
Get a grip, Allie admonished herself. After all, she had reminded herself...she had not known Connor for very long, but she knew she loved everything about him. Had she been alone these past few days with a murderer? Made love to a murderer? Allie took a deep breath and exhaled a mist of condensation, watching it dissipate. Her mind was wild now with the possibilities. He hadn't really told her everything about himself...why he was here. He'd been very vague when she asked, she remembered. He never really answered her question. She fidgeted in the cold, damp air, which had found its way to her very bones. She jiggled her knees up and down, not only to get warmth back into her legs, but to ease her discomfort at having to wait for answers. She realized that she was not a patient person.
The front door opened, causing the twig wreath to bounce, jolting her from her myriad thoughts. The two officers walked out onto the porch, followed by Connor.
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Garrison." Mike turned and spoke to Connor in a serious, but amiable tone.
Wait a minute...Allie stared, dumbfounded. Connor was not only not in handcuffs...he was escorting the officers out to the porch, as if he owned the inn and was seeing off his guests!
Allie leaned forward and stared at the men. Connor stood at the door, one hand casually slung in the pocket of his jeans.
They all ignored her.
"We're sorry to have bothered you, sir." The younger cop nodded to Connor, and put his cap back on his head.
"Not a problem," Connor replied affably.
The two officers started down the steps, then, as an afterthought, the cop named Mike turned to Allie, and put his hand up in a gesture of appreciation.
"Thank you, Mrs. Colborne." He nodded, "Sorry you had to wait out in this cold."
"That's all right," Allie replied, her voice quivering, as she discovered that her lips were practically frozen. She was so confused. She had braced herself to see Connor in handcuffs - ready to think of him as a murderer....now what was she supposed to think?
She stood up and looked at Connor, who was waving off the police car as it exited her parking lot, the other hand still in his pocket. Allie was hesitant, unsure of what to do next. Get inside, you ninny, she scolded herself. She walked across the porch, aware of Connor watching her intently. He stepped out of the way so she could pass through the doorway. She didn't bother to acknowledge him as she swept past him, anxious to feel the warmth of the parlor's fire
place.
Allie hung her jacket on the knob, aware of Connor next to her, slowly closing the front door.
"My....that seemed to go well," she commented sarcastically. "And you seem to be feeling much better today, I see." She decided to face this head on...why should she be timid? She had to have answers. She had a right to know the truth about this man who was sleeping under her roof. Allie walked across the parlor, and stood close to the fireplace, rubbing her arms, feeling the warmth returning to her chilled body. She turned her head back toward Connor, who continued to stand by the door, his hands on his hips, and awaited an explanation.
"What do you want to know?" Connor asked her simply, as he crossed the parlor to stand facing her in front of the blazing fire. He looked down at her for a moment, then, changing his mind, turned around and sat in the overstuffed chair by the fireplace. His nonchalant attitude was really starting to grate on her nerves. Allie continued to rub her arms. She saw that he had leaned forward, resting both elbows on his knees, his hands now clasped in a fist beneath his jaw as he looked up at her. Allie was acutely aware of Connor studying her face.
"Well...I guess you didn't kill that man - Jake Ayers, since you're still here," she began, feeling bolder now, "and not hauled off in handcuffs."
To her amazement and annoyance, Connor leaned back in the chair and laughed heartily.
"Is that what you were thinking about out there on the porch?" His eyes looked amused, and he laughed again as her agitation reached the boiling point. How dare he laugh at her.
"What was I supposed to think?" She swung around toward him, her hands ceased their rubbing. "The police come to my door, looking for you after finding a dead man and you're the last person to have been with him. The officers told me that before I called you down." Her voice had risen, and she noticed that his eyebrows shot up. "How dare you laugh at me!" She glared at him, completely frustrated with him.
"I appreciate your concern for me, Allie, I do," He offered in a calm voice, resting his elbows on his knees once more. "I hadn't realized the officers had filled you in on the details." Connor again rested his chin on his fist as he stared at the fire, and thoughtfully rubbed his upper lip with his forefinger.
The Village of Gerard's Cliff Page 15