Sheriff Nevil’s previous jubilant manor softened as he assessed Constance; his kind stare working their way up her body and resting on her eyes. “Listen...” he began with clear concern. “Is there somewhere else we can talk? Away from prying eyes?”
Constance beamed her approval. She knew she would get what she was after now. She thus took Nevil by the hand and quickly led him down the walkway and into a room she knew to be empty.
Once inside the room, and away from prying eyes and ears, Constance closed the door and turned back on the Sheriff. “Well?” she asked, eyebrow raised, hands on her hips.
“Well?” Sheriff Nevil asked back; that same boyish demeanor returning.
“You said you had something to tell me?”
“Did I?” he smirked again, seemingly taking great fun in toying with Constance.
“Well no… but...” She crossed her arms and pouted, hoping for this to have the desired effect. It didn’t. If anything, it only made Sheriff Nevil chuckle some more. This in turn only made her more frustrated. “Look, if you’re going to be this way —”
“Fine, fine,” Sheriff Nevil said quickly as he sobered up. “Look, it’s no secret that there’s a dead man in your lobby...”
“I know that,” Constance snapped.
“You’ve always been a wry one,” he joked. “What you don’t know though is what this means.”
“Murder?” Constance gasped, putting her hands to her mouth. “Are you sure?”
Sheriff Nevil thought for a moment, evidently deciding on how much he wanted to tell Constance. “Think about it,” he began cautiously. “A man has died on you premises, Constance. Everyone, including you, are now suspects until we figure out how he died.”
“You can’t be serious? You think I killed someone?” It didn’t escape her notice that he refused to use the word murder either.
“I didn’t say that. But it does mean that you are not to let a single person check out until I give the go ahead, understand?”
“Oh, that’s ridiculous,” she scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“Constance,” he warned, tone serious.
“Fine,” she snapped. “Anything else?”
“It also means that you can’t allow anyone else to check-in either—”
“Now wait a minute,” Constance protested hotly. “You can’t honestly expect me to close my doors?”
“I don’t expect it. I command it.”
“That’s not fair!” Her mind raced as she tried to come up with something, anything, that might help her talk her way out of this. She could already see that Sheriff Nevil had shed his boyish charm and entered full police Sheriff mode. Flirting probably wouldn’t help here. “What about The Loner? That’s where he was before he died! Eustace!” she exclaimed suddenly. “Have you spoken to—”
“He died here and that’s what matters. And besides, don’t go worrying about The Loner. Eustace has enough in his plate.”
“Really?” Constance asked, unable to hide her excitement. Never having any love for Eustace, she couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by this. “What’s happened to Eustace?”
“This is a big deal, Constance,” Sheriff Nevil continued, ignoring her question. “We’ve already sent word to the Head Precinct in Denver and if we don’t get a lid on it, then they’ll send their own boys down and do it themselves.”
“Okay...” Constance frowned, not seeing this to be an issue at all. As much as she loved Modest Peak and everything about it, something told her the police force here wasn’t exactly number one in the state when it came to solving murders. Maybe some new blood from the big smoke could be a good thing?
“Think about it,” Sheriff Nevil continued. He met her eyes and held them. “I’m allowing The Lone Peak to stay open because I know you and I know that there wasn’t any foul play here. But if they send some suit down, the first thing he’ll do is close this place up until they figure out who was to blame.”
“That’s not –!” she bit her tongue as Sheriff Nevil raised his eyebrows at her again. He seemed to say ‘who says life is fair’ without saying anything. “And if they don’t figure it out?” she pivoted.
“Take a guess.” He offered Constance a sympathetic smile. He then reached out to touch her on the shoulder, before thinking better of it and dropping his hand back down.
“That’s why you’ve got the entire force here...” Constance began slowly, finally starting to put the pieces together. “You really think that will help?”
“Listen, I’ve got to go, OK. And don’t worry, we’ll solve this one long before it comes to… before anything happens to The Lone Peak. Trust me.” Another sympathetic smile and he left.
Constance stared at the space that Nevil had just been occupying. Her expression was blank, her face was bone white. Despite his assurance, Constance just wasn’t able to share in Sheriff Nevil’s enthusiasm; regardless of how low key it may have been. Where he seemed to think that having every able body man on the case was a good thing, Constance knew it for what it was – a hindrance.
Still struggling to comprehend everything that she had just been told, Constance stumbled across the room and fell on the bed as she worked over what Roger had said in her mind. Over and over again, as if sifting through it might make it better.
She and her guests were now suspects in a murder case. And worse than that, if this case wasn’t solved soon, The Lone Peak Hotel might be closed down. And if the case was never solved, then it might be closed down for good.
This realization washed over Constance like a cold bucket of water being thrown in her face. She loved this town and she loved everything about it. But for some reason she just wasn’t comfortable in putting the fate of her hotel in the hands of Sheriff Nevil and his police force.
And as she sat on that bed, her head throbbing as she worked through the mountains of information she had just been told again and again, she couldn’t help but shake the nasty feeling that this was the end for The Lone Peak Hotel for good.
What the heck was she going to do now?
Chapter Four
“He was all over me,” Eleanor said assuredly as she sipped her glass of wine. “It was embarrassing really. I felt sorry for the poor boy.”
“Who?” Constance frowned, having not a clue what the heck Eleanor was going on about.
“Pike, I think his name was?” Eleanor continued haughtily. “He came to my room three times in less than an hour. Oh sure, he told me each time it was because he had more ‘questions’ for me, but I knew what the real reason was.”
“And what was it?” Sydney asked, wide-eyed. She had her own wine glass too, but it was filled with grape juice. Constance had let Sydney drink only the one time since knowing her and had regretted it ever since.
“Me!” Eleanor exclaimed as it if were the most obvious thing in the world. “The way he looked at me with those puppy dog eyes. I’ve never seen a man so desperate. Now, usually I’m not opposed to a man in uniform, but he really is too young. I need a real man.” She threw back her head, guzzling the rest of her wine in one gulp.
“And you don’t think it had anything to do with the fact that someone was murdered in the hotel and he was assigned to asking you questions?” Constance pointed out with a smirk.
Eleanor scrunched her brow as she looked Constance up and down, confusion written across her face. Obviously, this idea had never even crossed her mind. “Heavens no.” Eleanor shook her head. “It was me he wanted. Poor, deluded boy.”
Constance groaned, yet chose to say nothing as she took a sip of her own wine, happy that the effects of the red liquid were finally starting to take effect. She would need it too if she were to deal with Sydney and Eleanor for much longer.
It was nearly three in the morning and with the police officers having only just vacated the premises, the three ladies had retired to the kitchen to drink wine and gossip about the night’s events. Where Sydney seemed confused as to who the man was exactly – despite her hav
ing checked him in and having been discussing him literally a minute before he died right in front of her – and Eleanor was more interested in the relationship status of each officer, Constance’s point of worry lay in the case itself.
Despite Sheriff Nevil’s assurance that they would solve it as soon as it could possibly be solved, there was a nagging feeling in the back of her head that told her this just wasn’t to be the case. In fact, it wasn’t so much a nagging feeling as it was akin to a little man standing on her shoulder and screaming in her ear.
Not only were the suspects in the killing as random a grouping of people as there could possibly be, but the motives were unclear, the cause of death was still not known and the man who was murdered was so hated by everyone he came into contact with that no one really seemed to care that he had been killed in the first place.
And all this was fine, really – Constance didn’t care much for him either – except for the fact that if the case wasn’t solved then The Lone Peak risked being shut down for good. And this Constance could not have.
“Putting your raging libido aside for a moment,” Constance started. “Do you think we can talk about this case a little more?”
“Why would we want to do that?” Eleanor countered as she poured herself another glass. “That’s what the police are here for. I’d much rather talk about – Oh! I know why you’re so interested.” She nodded her head to herself, a sly smile forming on her thin lips.
“Why?! Why?!” Sydney clapped her hands excitedly.
“Yes, please tell me why,” Constance said sarcastically.
“That Sheriff Nevil is why,” Eleanor announced. “Don’t deny it! I saw the way he was looking at you and I saw the way you were looking at him. If it hadn’t rained all afternoon the hotel would have caught fire.”
“Puh-lease!” Constance responded, making her contempt as clear as possible. “Although I don’t doubt he wants to get into my skirt, I can assure you that he is as far from my mind as —”
“Oh you should totally do it!” Sydney clapped her hands together again. “Then you two, and me and Stanley can all go out to dinner together! Wouldn’t that be lovely.”
“And Stanley will come?” Constance challenged.
“Well, no,” Sydney said slowly, her eyes looking up to the ceiling as she thought on this.” Stanley hates going out for dinner. But I’ll still come!”
“Getting back to it,” Eleanor cut back in. “You really need to get back out there, Constance. Don’t say you don’t! And as far as I can see, this Sheriff Nevil is the perfect pool to dip your toes into.”
“I don’t need to get back out there,” Constance said dismissively. She could feel her temper rising and had to work to smother it.
If there was one thing Constance hated above anything else, it was talk of her relationship status. Although there were those that referred to her as the most single woman in Modest Peak, she did not give a damn. Not since her husband left her twenty years previously had she been in a serious relationship, and that was how she planned on keeping it.
“Can we please get back to this case?” she pressed.
“Why?” Eleanor sighed as she rolled her eyes. “I told you, the police are on it now.”
“Listen...” Constance bit her lip as she thought on what she was about to tell them. Initially planning on keeping this piece of information to herself, she knew it was far to juicy and serious for that. “I need to tell you two something. But you have to promise to keep it between yourselves. You can’t tell anyone. Understand?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Eleanor purred.
Sydney nodded her head so vigorously that her glasses slid down her nose, nearly coming off and knocking over her glass of grape juice in the process.
“Okay,” Constance began slowly, careful to look the two in the eye to emphasize just how serious this point was. “I spoke to Roger – Sheriff Nevil—”
“Ooooo, Roger—”
“And he told me that if they can’t solve this case within the week then Denver will come into town and do it for them.”
“So?” Eleanor questioned rightfully.
“If they do that, then chances are they’ll close down The Lone Peak until the case is solved.”
“And if they don’t solve it?” Eleanor asked, her voice wavering as the true meaning behind these words slowly came to the fore.
“Take a guess...”
This reveal had pretty much the desired effect as Eleanor’s face dropped so quick and so low it almost hit the floor, and Sydney began guzzling her grape juice like it was a life tonic.
“What does that mean for… and if they never… where will I...”
“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Constance said quickly.
“And you’re prepared to take that risk?”
Constance smiled a wry smile, glad to have finally brought the two women around to a point she had been trying to make for the better part of ten minutes – but was unable as Eleanor constantly turned the conversation back to men, and Sydney had somehow managed to get tipsy off grape juice.
It was in the guest bedroom, only a few minutes after Sheriff Nevil had left her alone, that Constance came to a decision. There was no way that she was going to leave the fate of her hotel in the hands of some small town, bumbling detectives that couldn’t catch a cold, let alone a murderer. If she wanted this murder solved, she was going to have to do it herself.
When this idea struck her, she was filled with a sudden sense of worth the likes of which she had not felt since she joined the Neighborhood Watch four years previously – although times ten! It just felt right and because it felt so right, she knew it would work.
This was a sense of worth and enthusiasm that she hoped was going to be shared by both Sydney and Eleanor. Unfortunately, it was not.
“You can’t be serious?” Eleanor responded, curling her lip back and scrunching her nose as if something terribly smelly had suddenly been shoved under it.
“Us? Solve murder?” Sydney said stupidly, eyes wide and innocent.
“Well why not?” Constance challenged. “Think about it. Out of everyone in town, we probably know the most about the victim. We probably also know the suspects and their motivations better than anyone too. Not to mention the round the clock access we have to them.”
“But literally everyone is a suspect,” Eleanor pointed out. “I never met the man personally, but from what I heard he had a nasty habit of making a very bad first impression.”
“Exactly,” Constance agreed, feeling herself getting more excited by the moment. She had thought on all of this long and hard and was thrilled to finally be reveling in it with others. “And don’t forget, I was there for all of it to. From his fight with Sheila to his argument in the parking lot. I saw it all, first hand. Don’t you think that gives me an edge over the police?”
“Maybe...” Eleanor said slowly, eyes narrowed as if she were trying to convince herself to not fall into the trap.
“I mean think about it,” Constance said quickly. “There was Mr. Tibbs in the foyer when the victim arrived. I’ve never seen someone so frightened. Then there was the Australian woman, Sheila in the restaurant having lunch. He yelled at her for no good reason! And then in the parking lot with that young married couple—”
“The Flanders,” Sydney said absentmindedly, as if she were only half paying attention.
“Exactly! I saw them arguing with the victim in the parking lot. I saw it all!” She was breathing heavily now, her blood rushing to her face. “This hotel is more than a business to me, it’s my life. And you Eleanor, it’s your home. And you Sydney it’s your… place to get away from Stanley.”
“Amen.”
“If anything were to happen to it, I don’t know what I, or either of you would do. So, if there is even the smallest chance of us stopping it, then why not? Why shouldn’t we at least give it a go?”
“Us?” Eleanor asked, eyebrow raised as she touched herself on
the chest.
“Well, yeah…” Constance smirked. She could tell that she had them. “You didn’t think I was going to do this on my own did you?” With a triumphant smile on her face, Constance raised her glass, hoping the other two ladies would join her in the cheers.
Sydney was first, clinking her glass excitedly against the crystal; spilling grape juice everywhere. And then Eleanor, with some serious hesitation, eventually joined in, clinking her glass with far less vigor.
“We’re going to do this...” Constance buzzed.
“We’re going to try,” Eleanor corrected
“This juice is making my head swim,” Sydney finished.
Chapter Five
It was happening. It was happening. Constance, Eleanor and Sydney were going to try their hands at amateur sleuthing as they tried to solve the murder of Mr. Ant Christie. Although this might seem like a task far too large in scope for a simple hotel owner, a cleaner and a receptionist, not once did Constance let this worry her. On the contrary, she felt that her position not just in the hotel, but as an esteemed member of the town, gave her an upper hand that the detectives working on the case might not have or appreciate.
Furthermore, Constance wasn’t exactly a dunce when it came to the concept of mystery solving. One of her favorite past times – on the rare occasions that she had time to pass – was reading. And of all the genres she loved to read the most, mystery was by far and away her favorite.
And once again, it needs to be pointed out with a firm hand and a strong resolve, that Constance was no dunce. She was more than aware that reading a few mystery novels didn’t automatically make her a detective. But that wasn’t really the point now, was it. What reading these books did do, and this could not be denied, was give her a keen insight into the steps that one had to take in order to solve a murder. One couldn’t just go and arrest a suspect based on instinct, just as much as you had to have a body before an investigation could even begin. There were steps and paths one must follow if they were to be a keen investigator, of which Constance intended on being.
Murder at the Lone Peak Page 4