by Tim Myers
Alex laughed. “You must not be half the teacher you thought you were.”
Mor pretended to consider that for a moment, then said, “No, even a brilliant teacher can’t do anything with a backward student.”
Alex couldn’t help the laugh that escaped just as the ladies joined them.
“What’s so funny?’ Elise asked.
Mor said, “Just some man talk.”
Emma smiled briefly. “Discussing curtains and manicures again, boys?”
Mor said, “Enough guff, woman.” He gestured to Elise. “What’s in that basket?”
“I made some baloney sandwiches and brought some warm milk. I thought a picnic snack might be fun,” she said, though it was apparent to all from the delightful aroma emanating from die basket that she’d fried chicken for their impromptu picnic dinner.
“That’s too bad,” Mor said. “What I really had a hankering for was some fried chicken.”
Alex said, “Should we eat first or go ahead and light the beacon?” He was getting those butterflies again, eager to light the lens. The air was charged with electricity; it was almost as if the lighthouse itself sensed what was coming, and Alex fed off it.
Emma said, “Why don’t we eat first? That way we can enjoy the light without worrying about attracting every moth in seven counties.”
Mor put an arm around her. “That’s why I love this woman. She’s so practical.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “And that’s why I love you, you big moose. I just adore the way you sweet-talk me.”
Elise laughed as she started to spread the blanket out on the platform. Alex grabbed the other end and they soon had it down, though the tug of the wind threatened to displace it. Mor said, “I can take care of that,” and promptly sat down in the middle of everything.
“That’s fine, but now there’s no room for the rest of us,” Emma said.
He moved over, and the four of them anchored their respective comers. Elise made a show of peeking inside the basket, then said, “Shoot.”
“Forget something?” Alex asked. “I’ll be glad to go back down for it.”
Elise said, “No, it’s too late for that. I meant to put a baloney sandwich in here to tease Mor with, but I must have left it on the counter.”
Emma said, “Knowing him, he found it and already ate
it.”
Elise passed out plates, cups, and silverware, then started pulling food out of the hamper at a surprising rate.
Mor asked, “Any sweet tea in there?” as he reached for a peek into the basket.
Emma slapped his hand. “You just wait and see, you choosy beggar.”
Elise pulled out a container of tea. “I wouldn’t forget that. Alex, would you mind pouring?”
Alex opened the jar of tea, poured a little into his cup, and treated it like a fine wine. “It’s got a robust flavor with a hint of playfulness; an unpretentious little vintage.”
“Give me that, you big goofball,” Mor said as he swiped the tea.
After dining on fried chicken, potato salad, and homemade rolls, Mor said, “I don’t suppose you have any pie in there, do you?”
Emma said, “Even if she did, where in the world would you put it?”
“Hey, I’m a growing boy. I need to eat to keep my strength up.”
She patted his stomach. “If you grow any more, you’re going to have to buy new clothes.”
Mor said indignantly, “I’ll have you know I’m the perfect weight for my height.”
Alex said, “I need to see that chart,” as he helped Elise clean up. “Is everybody ready for the lighting?”
“Absolutely,” Mor said. “Why don’t you two go fire it up? Emma and I will watch it from here.”
Alex said, “Don’t forget, face outward. That lens puts out some real light.”
“We’ll be careful,” Emma said. Though they had enjoyed a good meal with fine fellowship, Alex had noted a reserve in Emma that wouldn’t go away. It was obvious that Toby Sturbridge’s death was on all their minds, a real presence at their picnic, though no one brought up the man’s death.
It was the best way to deal with it, at least until they had more information.
Alex and Elise walked inside to the switch, and Alex said, “Will you do the honors?”
“Are you serious? I know how much you love doing it, Alex. You go ahead.”
Alex said, “Please, Elise, I’d like you to. The last time I lit it, you weren’t around to see it.”
Elise nodded. “I’m so sorry I missed the last Lighting. Alex, are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
With a schoolgirl’s grin, Elise said, “I’d love to.”
She punched the switch, and the light above them jumped to life. After a moment, it started to turn on its base. They walked out to the platform and watched as the beam cut through the countryside, leaving a path of light wherever it touched. There was sudden cheering from down below, and Alex saw several of his guests on the porches of the two buildings looking up at them. The beam ran through three circuits before Mor said, “You know the rules, Alex, three times around and it’s got to go off. Grady was pretty clear about that today.”
He nodded. “Elise, do you want to cut it off?”
“I can’t hog all the fun. You go ahead.”
Alex walked back inside to the switch, his finger hovering over it just a second before he finally killed the light.
Things went suddenly dark without the light, and Alex stood there until his eyes grew accustomed to the night. The cheers below had heartened him. Many of his guests came to the inn to see the lighthouse working, and nearly all of them were disappointed when they discovered that the light was usually dark. Blast it all, he needed to get the Town Council to let him light it more. He could position the lens toward the mountains where not many folks lived and leave it on for just a minute or two every night before it swung back on Elkton Falls. If Tracy was elected mayor, he was going to enlist her support and make it happen.
Maybe then they could keep the inn as full as it was at the moment, and Alex would have a chance to actually make a decent profit.
Elise and Emma led the way down the stairs with sturdy flashlights Alex had brought up. By the time they got to the base, the guests had already gone back inside.
Mor said, “Well, that was worth the cost of admission, no doubt about it.” He turned to Emma. “Are you ready to head back into town?”
“I’m ready,” she said as they all offered their good nights.
Mor said, “I’ll follow you back. I don’t want you getting into any trouble.”
“Then who’s going to watch you?” she asked with a smile.
Soon enough, it was just Alex and Elise.
“I’ll help you wash the dishes,” Alex said.
She stifled a yawn. “Actually, I’m beat. I think I’ll do them in the morning.”
That was odd. Usually they lingered over shared tasks in the evening, enjoying each other’s company. There was no doubt about it. Something, however subtle, was changing between them.
Alex was still pondering the mood shift when Paul and Sheila, the newlyweds, rushed in. “You lit up the lighthouse,” Sheila said in disgust.
“We had to replace a switch, so we did a check of the light.”
She snapped, “You don’t have to tell me, we heard about it in town. Paul and I were eating in some dreadful place called Mama Ravioli’s or some such nonsense when someone rushed in to announce it. By the time we got outside, the light was off. I demand you turn it on again.”
Alex said, “Sorry, I wish I could, but there’s a town ordinance that says I can’t. This was a special case.”
Paul reached for his wallet and said, “Surely another minute or two won’t hurt. She’s really got her heart set on it.”
Alex declined. “I do apologize, I should have said something.”
Jan and Corki came downstairs and spotted Alex talking with the newlyweds.
Jan said, “O
h, Alex, that was wonderful.”
Corki added, “Absolutely spectacular. I can’t believe we actually got to see it.”
Jan said, “I got pictures!”
As the two ladies walked past toward the door, the newlyweds turned and headed upstairs without another word.
From the look of things, it was going to be another night of marital unbliss for them.
Alex had just finished his nightly rounds of checking both buildings and locking the lighthouse up when he heard a car approaching on the gravel drive.
He was startled to see Sheriff Armstrong getting out of his patrol car. Had he found something so urgent he needed to talk to Alex this late?
There was a grim look on his face as he got out of his squad car.
“What’s going on?” Alex asked.
“It’s Oxford Hitchcock.”
“What about him?” Alex asked as his heart went cold.
Armstrong took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then said, “It’s bad news, Alex. He’s dead.”
Chapter 7
Alex asked, “I don’t suppose there’s any chance he died of natural causes, is there?”
Armstrong shook his head. “No, there’s no doubt about it. Somebody walloped him upside the head with a board. It looks like they snuck up on him and hit him from behind.”
Alex took it all in, then asked quietly, “Where was he, at his house?”
“That’s the oddest part of all. We found Oxford hanging under the old covered bridge. He fell through one of those big holes your committee is trying to patch up. Anyway, his suspenders caught on one of the braces below, else he would have drifted down the river toward Charlotte by now. A couple of teenagers were down by the river making out and the guy flashed his light up under the bridge. We had the devil of a time getting the body down.”
Elise came out into the lobby, dressed in a thick robe. “What’s going on? Is it something about Mor or Emma?”
Alex said, “No, it’s something else entirely. You can go back to bed if you’d like.”
Ignoring him, Elise said, “What happened, Sheriff?”
“Somebody killed Oxford Hitchcock at the old covered bridge,” the sheriff answered calmly.
Elise shook her head in disbelief. “Why would anyone do such a thing?”
Armstrong said, “That’s what I’m aiming to find out. Alex, do you have any idea where Tracy Shook is?”
“Sheriff, you can’t seriously consider her a suspect. I’ve known Tracy all my life. I can’t see her doing something like this.”
Armstrong rubbed his scalp. “Alex, every murderer in the history of the world knew somebody, and the fact is, just about every one of them had friends. People do things for the craziest reasons.”
Alex couldn’t believe the sheriff was serious. “You actually believe she’d kill him to get a job that pays nine thousand dollars a year? You’re way off on this one.”
Armstrong took off his hat, then rubbed a hand through his hair. “Alex, I didn’t come out here for crime-fighting tips, I’m looking for Tracy. Once I talk to her, maybe we can clear her right off the bat, but you can bet your last hat I’m going to talk to her tonight.”
“Sorry, I haven’t seen her,” Alex said.
Armstrong looked at Elise. “And you, Ma’am?”
“No, I’m sorry I can’t help.”
Armstrong nodded briefly, then put his hat back on. “If she comes out here, call me. I don’t care what time of day or night.”
“I still say she didn’t do it,” Alex insisted.
Armstrong just smiled. “You’re forgetting one thing, Alex.”
“What’s that?”
The sheriff said, “You don’t get a vote.”
After the sheriff was gone, Elise said, “I can’t imagine anyone killing that nice man, and I certainly can’t see Tracy doing it.”
“The sheriff’s way off on this one.” He stretched, then added, “I can’t see getting to sleep any time soon. Care to join me for a hot chocolate?”
She stifled a yawn. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m going back to bed.”
“Good night, then,” he said.
Later, Alex went to sleep wondering who had cause enough to kill Oxford Hitchcock. To Alex, he was just a typical politician, but to someone, the man must have been a real threat.
At least Alex wasn’t involved in that particular investigation. He had enough on his hands trying to get Mor and Emma off the sheriff’s list of prime suspects for Toby Sturbridge’s death.
Alex opened the newspaper the next day to see if there were any new details about Elkton Falls’ latest murder. The headline announcing the murder took up half the page, accompanied by a head shot of the victim and tons of background, but it didn’t offer anything he didn’t already know. Alex wondered briefly if Armstrong had ever found Tracy, but then put it out of his mind as Elise walked in.
“Morning,” he said as he offered her the paper. “How’d you sleep?”
“I tossed and turned all night,” she said.
“Yeah, I’m pretty excited, too,” Alex admitted.
“About that man’s death? Alex, that’s not like you.”
Alex said, “I’m talking about our date. It’s tonight, remember?”
Elise said, “Of course I do.” She finished the breakfast setup without another word about it. He wanted to say something else to her, but before he had a chance, Corki and Jan came down, followed by Denise and Greg, a couple who were rockhounds on their way to Hiddenite, and on their heels came Paul and Sheila, the battling newlyweds. The lobby of the inn was buzzing with conversation, but nothing substantial was spoken between Alex and Elise.
The housekeeper finally said, “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go ahead and get an early start on Dual.”
“That’s fine, I can take care of things here.” He took a deep breath, then added, “Listen, if you don’t want to go out tonight, that’s okay with me.”
Elise’s lips were pressed together in a thin white line. “No, tonight will be fine.”
Alex laughed in spite of himself. “It will be a lot better than fine, I can promise you that.”
Elise smiled softly. “Of course it will. I’ll see you later.”
“Bye,” he said as she hurried away. Elise had something on her mind, and Alex thought for a moment he should go ahead and cancel their date. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. They had both waited too long for this, and he doubted he could stand another delay.
As Alex waited for the guests to finish their breakfasts so he could clean up, he took a chance and dialed Doc Drake at his office. Madge, the doctor’s nurse who also happened to be his wife, answered the phone.
“Hi, Madge. Any chance I can steal a minute from your husband?”
Madge said with a snort, “You’re welcome to try your luck talking to him. I’m surely not having any luck.”
Drake came on the phone, and Alex asked, “Trouble in paradise?”
The doctor said, “You don’t even want to know. Madge has been after me to take a vacation, but I don’t know how we can get away.”
“Hey, you still owe her a honeymoon,” Alex said. “We’ll manage to limp along without you somehow.”
Drake spoke to his wife and said, “Alex thinks you’re being unreasonable, too.”
He could hear Madge’s laughter through the line. “I know better than that. He’s backing me up, isn’t he?”
Drake admitted, “Yes, but what does he know? He’s still a bachelor.”
Alex said, “Much as I’d like to be your couples therapist, I was wondering if you’ve had any luck with Toby Sturbridge.”
“Well, at this point, all I can say for sure is that I’m pretty certain he’s still dead.”
“No clues at all?”
Drake said, “I’m out of my league on this one. I’ve got a special coroner coming from Raleigh, but he won’t be here for three days.”
“Three days? What’s the delay?”
> Drake mumbled something into the phone Alex couldn’t hear.
“Repeat that, Doc, I missed it.”
Drake took a deep breath, then said loudly, “He’s on vacation in Hawaii.”
Madge’s whoop of laughter in the background was more than the doctor could take. “I’ve got to go, Alex. I’ll let you know when I find something else out.”
Without an official cause of death, the sheriff would probably back off from the case until he had a definite idea about what had really happened to Toby Sturbridge. Besides, he had his hands full with Oxford Hitchcock’s murder. Alex admired Doc Drake as much for his abilities as for knowing his limitations. A thorough job was important, and if they had to wait, then there was no escaping it.
Alex had just finished cleaning the newlyweds’ room when he heard someone call him from the hallway. As he stepped out with his cart, he saw Tracy Shook standing in front of the main desk.
“I’m over here,” he called out, emptying the trash can topped off with The Tattle Tale, a weekly supermarket gossip sheet that favored alien babies and Elvis sightings, into his cart’s bin. He never would have pegged the newlyweds, with their “his” and “hers” matching notebook computers as readers of the rag, but then that was one of the most interesting things about being an innkeeper: folks were constantly surprising him. From the rumpled blankets and pillow in the comer, it looked as if Mr. Jones had spent last night on the floor again. If the way the two of them argued was any indication, Alex wondered if the man ever got to actually sleep in the bed.
Tracy said, “Alex, I just had to come by and talk to you. Have you heard the news?”
“Armstrong told us last night. I’m sorry about Oxford. I know he was a friend of yours.”
Tracy said, “I’m sorry too, for more reasons than you can imagine. That’s not what I’m talking about, though. I won’t even make you guess. This is all so insane. Conner’s decided to take Oxford’s place and run against me. He’s already got his campaign slogan: ‘Vote for the Right Shook’. Can you believe that?”
Alex said, “I hate to say it, but it sounds exactly like something Conner would do. Did Armstrong find you last night?”