by Tim Myers
Then what about Dutch? Could he have killed both men? Alex wasn’t sure why, but he had a feeling in his gut that the man was exactly what he seemed to be, no matter what he and Elise had discussed. In Alex’s paranoia, he had wondered aloud if Dutch was really Harry and Barbara’s handyman, but he knew that chances were good that the man was exactly as he seemed. After all, he’d known about the radio, hadn’t he?
That left Michelle. She was so passive that it was difficult to imagine her in the role of murderer, no matter how hard he tried. Still, he couldn’t rule her out.
The more Alex thought about it, the more likely each of his suspects became in turn. He was certain he could talk himself into believing that any of the folks around them had committed the murders.
And then another thought struck him. What if the two murders weren’t tied together? Could there have been two separate killers loose at the lighthouse? He knew that the odds were good that just one person was a killer, but that didn’t mean it was impossible.
It brought up a new, and entirely unwelcome, train of thought, and he was still considering it when Elise came in.
“Alex, is something wrong? I thought you were going to start a fire.”
He looked up to find Elise staring at him. Alex shrugged. “Sorry about that.”
“What’s going on?” Elise asked.
“Just thinking about what a mess we’re in,” he answered.
She rubbed his shoulder lightly. “Why don’t you start the fire and we’ll have that picnic I promised? Come on, it will be nice.”
He wasn’t sure how good it could be, but Alex didn’t want to do anything to extinguish the hope in Elise’s eyes.
“That sounds great,” he answered as he lit the match he’d been holding in his hand.
The firewood was dry, and the fire leapt into quick flames. He rubbed his hands together in front of it and asked, “Where’s Michelle?”
“She wanted to help, so I let her make the sandwiches.” Elise frowned as she added, “I’m a little afraid for the Morrisons and Dutch. What if they don’t make it?”
“They can always come back here,” Alex said. “And if they do get out, they can send help. I’ll feel a lot better once this is all over.”
“I will, too. Once we get back to Hatteras West, I don’t think I ever want to leave it again.”
“That sounds good to me.”
Michelle brought out a tray stacked with sandwiches, more than the three of them could ever eat. Her gaze shifted to the back bathroom where Jackson’s body remained, but Alex watched as she forced down the emotion and did her best to put on a happy face. “Sorry, I got carried away. Could someone grab the sweet tea and glasses?”
Elise started to when Alex said, “I’ll do it. You enjoy the fire.”
Alex got the other tray, and the three of them ate in front of the fire.
After they were finished, Michelle asked, “What’s next?”
“We’ve got cleaning to do,” Elise said.
Odd. Alex had no intention of working as an innkeeper while things were so uncertain, but she was right. As soon as they were out of there, they wouldn’t be back, and it wouldn’t be fair to leave more work than they had to for Harry and Barbara on their return.
“Can I help?” Michelle asked.
Alex was about to agree when Elise said, “You mentioned walking along the beach while we were in the kitchen. Maybe you can find some pretty shells. After the storms we’ve been having, I bet they are everywhere.”
“Oh, that sounds nice,” she said as her gaze shifted to the back again. It was clear what she wanted most in the world was to get away from the body of her former boyfriend. “Thank you for the suggestion. Can I at least help clean up here?”
“You made lunch. We’ll do it,” Elise said.
As soon as Michelle was gone, Alex asked, “What was that all about?”
“I know she means well, but Michelle has been underfoot all morning, and she’s driving me a little crazy. She loves seashells, so why shouldn’t she get a little vacation out of this? Besides, it’s not like she has to worry about a killer stalking her.”
“If they didn’t backtrack,” Alex said.
“Dutch is watching out for that, remember?”
He nodded. “I know, but what if that story was a ruse of his so we’d drop our guard? Dutch may have had no intention of following the Morrisons, and he could be out there somewhere waiting to pounce. Forget it. I’m being too paranoid.”
“Or just the right amount,” Elise said. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“We have to stop her before she’s in danger.”
Fortunately, Michelle hadn’t gone far. The pounding of the surf was so loud it obscured their voices when they called out to her, and as Alex and Elise approached her, she looked up at them, so startled he half expected her to bolt straight into the ocean to get away from them.
“It’s just us,” Alex said as he and Elise hurried up to her.
“You were right, Elise. The shells are magnificent. I thought you two were going to clean the inn.”
Alex lied, “We were, but searching for shells sounded like more fun.”
Michelle wasn’t buying that, though. “You were worried about me, weren’t you? Go on, admit it.”
“Maybe just a little,” Elise said.
“As much as I appreciate your concern, I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. Go back and do your work. I’ll be fine.”
“We don’t mind, really,” Elise said.
Michelle frowned. “I don’t know how to put this delicately, but I’d really like a little time to myself. Is that okay?”
“Of course it is,” Alex said as he took Elise’s hand in his. “Take your time. We’ll see you back at the inn.”
As they walked back to the lighthouse, Elise said, “She needs time from me? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Alex laughed. “It’s hard to imagine, isn’t it? I for one can’t get enough of you.”
She smiled. “I know, I should be thankful for every moment we get. Come on, let’s clean some rooms.”
“You know all the right things to say,” he answered.
For obvious reasons, they skipped the Danvers’ cottage and Dutch’s, but that still left plenty of work to do. “Should we split up?” Elise asked. “We can get more work done quicker that way. These cottages are so small, we’ll keep bumping into each other if we try to clean them at the same time.”
“I’m willing to risk it,” Alex said. “I don’t want to separate.”
“I don’t, either. Which cottage should we tackle first?”
“The Morrisons,” Alex said. “We can pack their bags and keep them at the front desk until they come back for them.”
They had changed the sheets and were making the bed in Elizabeth Morrison’s room when Alex stepped on something. He leaned over and picked it up from the floor, and Elise asked, “What is it?”
“A small bullet,” Alex answered. “Elise, it looks as though she’s armed.”
Chapter 11
“She has a gun?” Elise asked, nearly losing her composure. “Why didn’t she tell us about it?”
“Maybe she was afraid that it might look bad for her if we knew,” Alex admitted.
“What should we do?”
“First thing, we search this place from top to bottom and make sure it’s still not here,” Alex said.
After a brief but thorough hunt, they knew the gun was gone. Alex knew, based on the size of the ammunition, that it was a small caliber weapon.
“We should warn Dutch,” Elise said as she dropped the old sheets in the corner. They’d brought fresh linens and put them on the dresser for later.
“How? I have no idea what direction they took, and there’s no way we’d ever catch them. They’ve had too big a head start.”
“You’re right,” Elise said. “Why didn’t she bring the gun out after we found the first body? She could have use
d it to protect us, and poor Jackson might not be dead.”
“The question is, who would she be protecting us from? Herself, or one of her brothers? I doubt she’d be on our side, if one of them is the murderer.”
Elise frowned. “One victim was struck from behind, while the other was choked, again, probably from behind. No bullets were used, but we do have a sneaky killer.”
“Someone both victims trusted,” Alex said.
“And didn’t consider a threat,” Elise amended.
“So, everyone’s on the list again. I’ll be honest with you; I wouldn’t mind having a way to protect ourselves, even if Michelle is the only one around.” Alex glanced around, and then added, “That we know of.”
Elise shook her head. “Maybe it’s better that we’re not armed. It wouldn’t do to start shooting at shadows. Let’s finish these rooms. We can talk while we work.”
“Don’t we always?” Alex asked. He put the bullet in his pocket and kept an eye open for any clues that might pop out at them. No one knew guests better than the people who cleaned their rooms, and Alex had learned more than he’d care to admit during his tenure as the innkeeper at Hatteras West.
There were no more surprises in Elizabeth’s cottage, though.
John and Greg’s cottages were both lacking in any clues, and they added nothing to the information Alex and Elise had amassed so far.
Alex then headed for the cottage Michelle and Jackson had shared, but Elise put a hand on his arm. “We shouldn’t go in there.”
“Why not? Their things are gone, and Jackson’s body is back at the inn.”
“I don’t want to have to tell the police we were snooping,” Elise admitted. “What if they call Sheriff Armstrong back home to check up on us? Can you imagine what he’d say if they ask him about us?”
Alex shook his head. “Nothing too pleasant, I’m sure. So then, we’re finished, aren’t we?”
“For now. Let’s clean the kitchen, and then we can figure out what we should have for dinner.”
“I was honestly hoping we’d be gone by then,” Alex admitted.
Elise shrugged. “I’m guessing we’re going to have to spend one more night here. I’d better see what I can make for dinner. Michelle isn’t going to like being trapped here another night.”
“She’ll have to get in line,” Alex said. “It’s pretty clear that we’re not particularly thrilled about it, either.”
They found Michelle waiting on them on the front porch, as though she were afraid to go in by herself. The last few days had been quite a strain on her, and Alex could see a haggard expression in her eyes.
“We’re not getting out of here tonight, are we?” Michelle asked as she looked around at the growing shadows.
“I don’t think so,” Alex said.
“Did the Morrisons make it out? Why hasn’t Dutch come back?”
“I wish I knew,” Alex said.
“I just want this all to be over,” Michelle said.
Alex knew he had to do something to lift her spirits a little. “Tell you what. Why don’t you help Elise in the kitchen, and I’ll get that fire stoked up again.”
“Okay. That sounds good,” Michelle said, though it was clear she’d rather be anyplace else in the world than there.
“Come on,” Elise said. “Let’s go see what we can make.”
After they were gone, Alex started collecting more wood from the covered front porch. As he did so, he realized that he needed to rethink everything he’d learned so far about the murders. The first, and most important item, was the clue they’d gotten from Danvers’ room.
M w/ B. M 2?
It could have meant many things, but there wasn’t a D there, so he thought that without more evidence, Dutch most likely wasn’t the killer. His true first name might start with an M, but wouldn’t the detective put ‘Dutch’, since that was how the man was known, regardless of his given name?
M w/ B.
The first part most likely meant Michelle with Benning. It wasn’t unusual to use a woman’s first name and a man’s last while making a quick note. If Danvers had indeed been trailing the pair, it would make sense that his note would be a reference to them.
But what about M2? Could that somehow represent the Morrisons? There were three of them, not two, so it just didn’t fit.
And then Alex really tried to take a fresh look at the last guest still at their inn.
M2? could be the PI’s speculation that Michelle might be hiding more than it initially appeared. M2 could mean that he thought Michelle could be capable of her own acts of evil. Could Alex and Elise be stranded at the inn with the real killer after all?
The more he considered it, the more Alex realized that it started to make sense. Michelle had the best motive there was to stop Danvers and kill Jackson. The PI could have kept her from the money she was going to get in the divorce settlement, and her supposed boyfriend had shown a side of greed and cold hearted behavior that she may never have seen before. He could have easily done his best to take her money, most likely through blackmail. Then why hadn’t Alex seen it before? It was one of his true blind spots. He wanted to believe the best in people, and Michelle had presented a sympathetic front to them. No, it was more than that. She’d portrayed herself as a passive victim more than a killer since she’d arrived at the inn, nearly always deferring to those around her.
Except when it mattered to her.
Could it be true? There was just one way to find out. If Alex didn’t solve this before the police arrived, she might never be caught.
Chapter 11
There was only one way to find out. As dusk began to approach, Alex knew that he had to lay a trap for Michelle, and if she took the bait, he’d know that his musings were right. If she didn’t, then most likely one of the Morrisons had murdered both men.
It was time for Alex to manufacture a little evidence of his own and see what happened. He took an old piece of paper that Harry used in his files, scribbled something illegible in pencil on it, and then smeared it with his finger to make it even more unrecognizable.
When he walked into the kitchen, he held the paper up to show Elise and Michelle. “I just found something in Jackson’s pocket,” he said excitedly.
Elise put down the knife she was using to chop vegetables. “Why were you examining his body alone, Alex?”
“I had to know if there was anything we missed,” he said.
Elise seemed to take that in. “What did you find?”
He hated not including her in his ruse, but there had been no way to get her away from Michelle, so he really didn’t have any choice. He would apologize later. Right now, he needed her to be convincing in her belief.
“This must have fallen down beside his bed, and nobody ever really searched his room,” Alex said.
“What does it say?” Michelle asked.
Elise put the knife in her hand down on the counter. “Forget that for a second. Alex, you shouldn’t have gone in there without us.”
“It was the only way,” he said. “I wanted a chance to look around by myself, and I’m glad I did. What if the killer found this and destroyed it before we saw it? If that happened, there wouldn’t be any evidence left.” As he spoke the last words, he looked straight at Michelle.
“You never answered my question,” Michelle said. “Haven’t you read it yet?”
“I can’t make out all of it,” he said, “but what I’ve read so far appears to be about you. Danvers’ name is mentioned, too.”
She frowned. “It’s natural that Jackson would write me a note about the detective. Perhaps he had a thought on who might have killed the man. I’m sure you’ve misunderstood what he wrote. Let me see it. I can read his sloppy handwriting. I’ll interpret it for you.”
When Alex balked at the suggestion, she repeated, “Let me have it, Alex.”
He knew if he handed it over, his game, and any chance he had of proving that she was a double murderer, would be over.
&n
bsp; “I think I’ll hold onto it for now,” Alex said. “I’m willing to bet that the police will be interested in seeing it.”
Michelle looked as though she were going to cry, and Elise’s natural reaction was to offer her comfort.
It might have been her last mistake though, as Michelle grabbed the knife and held it against Elise’s throat. It happened so quickly that Elise could do nothing but gasp as the steel edge nicked her neck.
“I’m going to ask you one last time, Alex. Give me the note.”
Gone was the soft, vulnerable usual tone in her voice, replaced by a wicked, cold delivery. Alex could see this woman as a murderer. He just hoped he hadn’t erred so badly that Elise would have to pay for his failure to judge the woman correctly in time.
If Alex could buy a little time, maybe he could find an opening to save Elise. One thing he was certain of; if Michelle read that faked clue, they would both be dead. At that point, he doubted that a few more murders would matter to Michelle one way or another. “You killed Danvers to keep him from reporting your behavior to your soon-to-be-ex husband, but why kill Jackson? Was he going to blackmail you for a cut of the money after you tried to dump him?”
“Have you been listening in on my conversations?” she asked with a snarl. “It’s either that, or you’re very good at guessing.”
“I kept playing things over in my mind, and there was only one connection between Jackson and Danvers that made sense, and that was you.”
“The Morrisons had reasons of their own to want the PI dead,” she said.
“Maybe so, but Jackson was another case altogether,” Alex answered. He tried to reassure Elise with his gaze, but the look of terror in her eyes was unmistakable. He had to do something, and quickly, if she was going to have the slimmest chance of surviving the attack.