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Authors: Tim Myers

Tags: #blue ridge mountains, #cozy, #fiction, #inn, #lighthouse, #mystery, #north carolina, #tim myers, #traditional

Reservations for Murder (20 page)

BOOK: Reservations for Murder
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Alex Winston looked up from his position
behind the check-in desk at the people who had been fidgeting in
the lobby of Hatteras West for the last forty minutes. Though they
hadn’t introduced themselves upon their arrival, it hadn’t been all
that difficult for Alex to match names with faces.

When no one deigned to answer, Ashley
continued, speaking loud enough for everyone in Elkton Falls to
hear. “Only Father would book us into a lighthouse motel in the
North Carolina mountains!”

As the owner and innkeeper of the “lighthouse
motel,”

Alex had to fight to hide his smile. He knew
how unusual most people found it to see a lighthouse in the
foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, but to him, the original
structure on the North Carolina Outer Banks was the one that looked
oddly out of place without the lush green hardwood forest and the
mountain’s foothills surrounding it.

Cynthia Shays-Trask, the matriarch of the
clan, was a slim older woman stylishly dressed in a designer outfit
and sporting a graying closely cropped haircut. She said curtly,
“Ashley, we are here because your father demanded it. That obese
nightmare of a man has found a way to continue to spoil my life
even beyond the grave.”

Steven Trask, a young man in his mid-twenties
with neatly trimmed hair and a runner’s physique said, “Mother, I
won’t have you speak of him that way, do you understand? It’s time
to put the past behind us.” Unlike his sister and her outfit,
Steven looked at home in a nicely tailored suit.

“Oh please, Steven,” Ashley said. “It didn’t
do you the slightest bit of good being his favorite while he was
alive, and it matters even less now. He can’t hear you.” All three
shared the same hooked nose and prominent chin; the family
resemblance was undeniable. Alex would have known they were related
even without having the reservation book open in front of him.
Though they were booked at the inn for the entire week, the group
had refused to check in until Jase Winston, Alex’s uncle and an
attorney in town, arrived on the scene.

Jase had just recently moved back to Elkton
Falls after retiring from a big law firm in Charlotte, and Alex had
been glad for the chance to get reacquainted with his father’s
brother. Since Alex and his brother Tony had lost their parents,
Jase had done his best to serve in their stead. Alex was glad his
uncle had grown bored with retirement and had hung out his shingle
in town. The man was coming alive again with cases to keep him
occupied. He’d confided to Alex that the two of them were a lot
alike; they both dealt with the public and tried their best to
serve them. Alex wondered if that was what his uncle had in mind
when he’d gotten himself involved with this family.

Ashley rubbed her hand hesitantly across the
top of an ornately carved black urn sitting on the table between
them. “This is just like Father, popping up like this. It smacks of
his annual Christmas postcards to the family. The only way he comes
back to us from South America is in a jar full of ashes. He had
some kind of nerve, leaving us all behind and sending a card once a
year just to gloat about his new life.”

Steven’s face turned red as he snapped, “He
just wanted us to know he was okay!” It was obvious his sister knew
just what buttons to push to get a reaction from him.

Cynthia said sadly, “Steven, you always were
such an innocent.”

Ashley said, “He’s not all that innocent. I
could tell you stories about your precious little boy that would
curl your toes, Mother.”

Alex could tell that Steven was trying his
best to ignore his sister’s jab. “Can’t we all just get along until
Jase Winston gets here and reads the will?”

Ashley said, “Don’t hold your breath hoping
for family harmony, Steven. I for one refuse to honor a man who
deserted me.” Ashley frowned, then added, “I still don’t understand
why Donald and the children couldn’t come with us this week.
They’re my family; they have every right to be here, too.”

Cynthia said, “We’ve been over this a hundred
times. The instructions stated clearly that no spouses or children
were to attend. Your father wanted this to be just the three of
us.”

Alex had dusted the same spot on the front
desk for the seventh time when Elise Danton came up behind him.

“Alex, I need you outside.”

Elise served as the head of housekeeping at
Hatteras West. It was a glorified title, since there were just the
two of them on staff, but Alex knew he couldn’t run Hatteras West
without her. He’d discovered that quickly enough when Elise’s
father had suffered a major heart attack, and Elise had been called
back to his side. He hoped her parents enjoyed good health for a
long, long time. Alex was not at all certain he could go through
running the inn by himself again.

“Is it important?” he asked. Alex would never
have admitted to her that he’d been eavesdropping, but he couldn’t
| help himself. It was one of the fascinations of running the inn,
meeting such a vast variety of people.

“I don’t think it can wait,” Elise said as
she motioned him to the rear of the building.

When they got to the back hallway, Alex said,
“Elise, you aren’t going to believe our newest guests. I was under
the impression that this was just going to be a normal family
reunion when Jase booked their rooms, but they’re here for the
reading of their father’s will. And from the sound of it, nobody
but the man’s son is all that upset he’s gone.”

Elise said, “Alex, I honestly don’t care if
they’re here to hold a séance to bring him back; they’re paying
guests, and we need all of those we can get right now.”

Alex knew too well how true that was. They’d
nearly finished rebuilding the Main Keeper’s Quarters a few months
before when they’d run out of the money raised from the sale of
emeralds found on the property. Unfortunately, Emma Sturbridge,
their staff gem hunter, still hadn’t been able to locate the source
of the main vein of stones, if in fact one even existed. The
original discoverer had taken that secret with her to the grave.
Because of that, Hatteras West, so named because of the exact
replica of the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse built beside the two
keepers’ quarters that served as the inn, was heading dangerously
close to being in the red again.

Alex asked, “What’s so important?”

“It’s Vernum. I can’t get the man to hold
still long enough for me to have one word of conversation with him.
You’re the only one he’ll talk to.”

“Is there a problem with him?” Alex asked.
Vernum, an older, rail-thin man with a heavy, flowing shock of
white hair and a beard that bushed all around his face, had shown
up at Hatteras West the week before, offering to do yard work and
landscaping in exchange for one meal a day and a place to sleep.
Alex had seen Vernum around Elkton Falls for the past few months,
one day sweeping the parking lot at Buck’s Grill and the next
unloading trucks at Shantara’s General Store. Sheriff Armstrong had
talked to Vernum extensively upon showing up in Elkton Falls and
had pronounced him harmless.

Alex had turned down the offer of
landscaping, though he gave the stranger a good meal before he
left. Instead of leaving, though, Vernum grabbed a pruning saw from
the storage shed near the lighthouse and transformed some gnarled
old oak trees Alex had been meaning to convert into firewood into
beautifully sculpted showpieces.

Alex was convinced, and Vernum moved into the
shed after refusing to sleep in any of the inn’s empty rooms.

“There’s no problem with Vernum,” Elise
explained. “I just hate the thought of him sleeping on a cot out in
the shed.”

“It’s his choice, Elise. He seems happy out
there. I can’t make him come inside.”

“Would you at least talk to him about it
again? He listens to you.”

“I will if I can find him,” Alex said. He
knew there was no point arguing with her. Once Elise made up her
mind about something, it was nearly impossible to get her to change
it. He had to admit she’d come up with many improvements since
she’d arrived at the inn, none more popular than the continental
breakfasts they now served every morning.

As Alex walked the grounds, he marveled at
the work Vernum had done in the short time he’d been at Hatteras
West. The unofficial arborist had thinned and pruned the stand of
oak and hickory trees that had grown up around the lighthouse’s
base, transforming the area into a park-like setting, revealing
rather than obscuring the stone and brick foundation. Even the
copse of trees between the lighthouse and Bear Rocks had never
looked so good.

Alex finally found Vernum thinning the
plantings around the inn’s main building.

“Got a second?” Alex asked.

Vernum looked startled as he realized Alex
was standing so close by. The man never failed to remind Alex of a
spooked horse, afraid to stay in one place too long, especially if
anyone else was around.

“What can I do for you?” the man grumbled as
he started to move away.

“Elise is worried about you sleeping out in
the shed. Are you sure you don’t want to move into the inn while
you’re working here? We’ve got plenty of room right now.”

Vernum called out over his shoulder, “I’m
fine where I am, thanks,” as he disappeared into the copse of trees
that led to Bear Rocks.

Alex didn’t have time to chase him down. He
had an inn to run. Peering inside through the glass, he could see
the Trask family still gathered around the patriarch’s urn. It was
time to finish dusting that desk.

Hopefully, he hadn’t missed much.

“Where is that man? Honestly, he shouldn’t be
wasting our time like this,” Cynthia said as she looked at her
watch for the hundredth time in the last fifteen minutes.

Steven asked, “Is there somewhere you need to
be, Mother? I thought we were all going to be staying the entire
week.”

“We are. That was your father’s last request,
and goodness knows, he’ll probably come back and haunt anyone who
tries to leave early. It’s hard to imagine this dreadful town was
his boyhood home. He never showed any interest in coming back while
he was alive, so why in the world did he feel the need to drag us
all here against our wills? I just wish we could get this part of
the ordeal over with.”

Ashley said, “Do you think it’s possible he
actually left us something valuable? The attorney hinted as much
when I spoke with him on the telephone last week. Maybe he still
has his stamp collection. That was worth a fortune twenty years
ago.”

Steven said, “I’m not so sure any of us
deserve his money or anything else. He was gone a long time. Father
carved out a new life for himself.”

Cynthia said, “Donate your share to the poor
if it eases your conscience, Steven. I for one earned every dime
coming to me.”

“We all did,” Ashley said.

Steven stood abruptly. “It’s getting a little
stale in here. I need some fresh air.”

Ashley snapped, “You’ll just have to get it
later, little Brother. Nobody’s going anywhere until this lawyer
shows up.”

Alex watched openly as Steven and Ashley
locked glares. The older sister ultimately won as Steven
reluctantly slipped back into his seat.

Alex was so caught up in the exchange between
the brother and sister that he was startled when Sheriff Armstrong
walked into the inn. Normally, Alex knew it whenever a car
approached on the gravel entrance outside. As the sheriff headed
straight for Alex, the innkeeper had a sinking feeling in the pit
of his stomach that he was there to deliver bad news. Armstrong
didn’t come to Hatteras West on many social calls; something had to
have happened to dynamite him off his barstool at Buck’s Grill.

“Afternoon, Sheriff,” Alex said, trying to
act more casual than he felt.

“Alex, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad
news.”

“What is it?” Alex asked as a wave of dread
swept over him.

“It’s your uncle. I’m afraid he’s dead.”

BOOK: Reservations for Murder
8.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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