Room for Murder (Book 4 in the Lighthouse Inn Mysteries) (18 page)

“
Stand firm, Grady,” Alex
said as the mayor rushed off.

Grady Hatch stuck one thumb up in the air as
he hurried away. Alex considered telling Shantara what Conner was
up to, but truly, there was nothing any of them could do about it
if Grady caved in at the last minute and gave Conner his
endorsement. The only purpose it would serve would be to put Tracy
under even more stress than she already was.

No, that was one item of gossip he was going
to keep to himself.

Alex was pulling out when Shantara flagged
him down.

He put the truck in park and rolled down his
window. “What’s up, did that soap come in while I was gone?”

She waved a sheet of paper at him, folded
neatly in half. “Not hardly. This fax just came in for a couple
staying out at the inn, the Joneses. I was told to keep it here for
them to pick up, but since you’re heading back out that way, it
will save them a trip.” Shantara’s General Store was so much more
than just a mercantile. She had a post office in one corner, sold
crafts in another, and had just opened a copy center/office
services feature in a back storeroom that had long ago held cattle
and pig feed.

“
I’ll be glad to take it to
them,” he said as he took the sheet and put it on the pile of junk
that rested between the two passenger spots on the bench
seat.

Just his luck, Alex got stuck behind a
tractor going ten miles an hour on his way back to the inn. The
farm equipment wasn’t strictly street legal, but nobody ever
complained. Small-town farmers around Elkton Falls were in enough
trouble as it was without being hassled by the law or its
citizenry. Alex did his best to buy his produce from them whenever
he could. He recognized Hank Wilkins, one of Irene’s nephews,
driving the tractor in front of him. The
criminologist/cosmetologist had more family than Adam around Elkton
Falls, and she made no secret of the fact that Hank was one of her
favorites.

Alex waved to the beefy man, who was lost in
his own thoughts as he chugged slowly up the road.

He wasn’t prying, and spying had never been
his intent, but Alex found his gaze wandering to the fax the
Joneses had received, more out of boredom and curiosity than
anything else.

A breeze blew into the truck, and the folded
paper blew open. Alex only got a quick glance at the printing
inside, but it was enough.

He nearly wrecked when he saw the letterhead
printed across the top.

It was from The Tattle Tale, the tabloid
he’d seen marked up in their “honeymoon” suite, and from the look
of things, it could only mean one thing: trouble.

The rest of the drive back, he kept fighting
himself whether to read the entire fax or not. After all, it was
private, just like someone’s mail, and he’d never peeked at any of
his guests’ mail since he’d become an innkeeper.

But was it, really? A fax was more open,
more public. So why would they be getting a letter from a
sensational tabloid magazine?

He was still mulling over what to do by the
time he got to the inn.

Elise heard him drive up and met him at the
back door near their storeroom. She smiled gently. “That didn’t
take long. Usually you stretch your trips into town a lot longer
than that.”

He said, “I didn’t want to leave you
stranded too long without backup. Elise, I need some advice.”

Certainly she was a pretty woman, but there
was a lot more to Elise than looks. Alex respected her opinion and
her judgment, had in fact deferred to her on more than a few
occasions.

“
I’ll do what I
can.”

Alex tapped the paper in his hand. “This
came for the Joneses, our newlyweds. It’s a fax from Shantara’s
store.”

“
What about it?” she asked,
looking at the paper as she spoke.

How could he phrase this without making
himself look bad? Taking a deep breath, Alex said, “As I was
driving back to the inn, the page flew open, and purely by
accident, I saw the letterhead. It’s something I’m having a hard
time figuring.”

“
You didn’t read it, did
you, Alex?”

“
Come on, give me some
credit.”

She looked at him intently, waiting for him
to go on.

He said, “Hey, I’m not saying I wasn’t
tempted to scan it, but I didn’t. The only problem is, there might
be trouble. The letterhead said—”

Elise held up a hand. “Don’t tell me, I
don’t want to know. Alex, our guests have a right to their privacy.
I shouldn’t have to lecture you about that, not after we both lost
our master keys.”

“
This is completely
different,” Alex said.

“
How do you see
that?”

“
Elise, if they wanted it
to be that private, they wouldn’t have sent it as a fax.” The
couple had grumbled about the lack of private phone plug-ins for
their computers after they’d checked in. but that was a service
Alex didn’t offer. Rewiring the inn, with its ancient walls of lath
and plaster, just wasn’t in his budget, nor would he do it even if
he owned his own emerald mine. He liked running an old-fashioned
inn. In his mind, Hatteras West was a place to get away from all
that

Alex added, “I’m sure Shantara didn’t think
twice about it, but something in here could adversely affect the
inn.”

Elise thought about it a moment, then held
out her hand. “I suppose there’s only one way to know for sure. Let
me see it.”

Chapter 16

Alex held the paper away from her. “I don’t
want you to compromise your principles on my account.”

She said, “No you don’t. You dragged me into
this, and now I don’t see any way around it.”

He nodded, started to hand it to her, then
thought better of it and opened the paper himself. Elise was
startled by the letterhead from The Tattle Tale as she read over
his shoulder, but both of them nearly yelped when they saw the body
of the message. It said:

“
Okay, if you can’t get a
picture of the room, fake something. We need “The Murder Inn” story
by Friday, and I want art to go with it. Here’s my authorization;
bribe the maid if you can’t steal the key again, but I want a
picture of that room to go along with the story, or don’t bother
coming back.”

It was signed, “Jasper Hayes,
Editor-in-Chief, The Tattle Tale.”

“
So that’s what happened to
our keys,” Elise said, fuming. “I want them gone, Alex. We don’t
need their money that badly.”

A sudden idea struck him. “If they go now,
they’ll just write the story anyway. Maybe there’s a way to kill it
altogether.”

“
How are we going to do
that?” she asked.

“
I’ve got an idea, but I’m
going to need help from you.”

She smiled grimly. “Count me in.”

And suddenly, the two of them were joined in
a conspiracy of their own.

Alex’s alarm screamed at
2:00
a.m
. He
reached groggily for the snooze button, then remembered why he’d
set it for such a miserable hour.

It was time to put all their hard work into
play. Dressing quickly in black sweatpants and a navy blue
sweatshirt, Alex pulled a ski mask over his face and headed out
into the lobby.

Elise was waiting for him by the front
desk.

“
You look like you’re going
to rob a bank,” she said with a smile.

Alex pulled off the mask and asked, “Are you
ready?”

Elise said, “I don’t know about this, Alex.
I’m having second thoughts. It feels so juvenile.”

“
Come on, they deserve it
If you don’t want to be a part of it, I understand, but I’m going
through with my end of it.”

Elise said, “Then I’m not going to let you
have all the fun.”

Alex looked at his watch. “Okay, give me
five minutes to get set up, then start the tape.”

She said, “I’m glad you got these
walkie-talkies from Mor. I can’t wait to hear what they say.”

Mor had loaned Alex three walkie-talkies
he’d repaired for a trio of brothers who used them during hunting
season. Earlier that day, Alex had slipped one into the newlyweds’
room behind the dresser. It would let them eavesdrop on the effects
of their work.

Alex said, “Here goes nothing.”

He went up to the second floor and used the
attic scuttle in the maid’s closet to get into the attic. Alex had
traded in his normal high-powered flashlight for one of
considerably less intensity. It was enough light to let him see by,
but not enough to broadcast his presence to the world in case
someone happened to glance up at the single window in the attic
space.

Grabbing a bamboo pole he used to knock
hornets’ nests down in the autumn, Alex climbed out onto the roof
until he was even with the reporters’ suite. Leaning outward near
the gutter, Alex was ready to begin.

A quick glance at his watch showed that it
was nearly time.

With a soft, delicate touch, Alex lowered
the pole and tapped it gently on the second-floor window. He pulled
the pole up, waited ten breaths, then tapped again, this time with
more vigor than before. Jerking the pole back toward him, Alex
almost lost his balance and fell.

How would he explain what had happened if he
slipped from his perch? The best he could hope for from a fall at
that height would be a broken bone or two, and he didn’t even want
to think about the worst possibility.

Alex hit the broadcast button and signaled
to Elise. The system was sophisticated enough to allow them to
monitor the broadcasts from each other while only receiving from
the third set, so their conversations wouldn’t be sent at an
inopportune time to the room they were trying to haunt.

Alex asked, “Any reaction at all?”

“
They heard you, they’ve
been fighting about it. The light’s been on for five minutes. Hang
on. Okay, they just turned it out again. Give it a few minutes,
then hit it again.”

From her spot in the maid’s closet, Elise
could watch their door without being in their line of sight if they
came out suddenly.

Alex waited, staring up at the lighthouse.
He was in clear view of the observation platform, but it was closed
for the night. What would the sentinel think of his foolishness?
Alex had to admit, the lighthouse had seen him do a lot worse,
though not lately. With a grin, he saluted the tower with his free
hand.

It was time for another tap.

After a quick rapping, he pulled up the pole
just in time to hear the window slam upward.

Alex didn’t need Elise’s monitoring to hear
the voices inside.

“
What was it, a tree
branch?” Sheila asked.

Paul said, “There’s nothing out here, I keep
telling you that.”

“
That wasn’t nothing,” she
hissed loudly. “Tell me you didn’t hear it.”

“
So I heard something. It
was probably just the wind.”

She said, “The wind doesn’t knock on your
window, you idiot.”

“
Well, there’s nobody out
there. We’re two stories up. Do you honestly think somebody’s up on
stilts trying to get our attention?”

She said loudly, “Close that window. You’re
letting in a draft.”

Good. They were unsettled enough for the
moment. Alex carefully climbed back to the window and slipped
inside. Elise was waiting for him there, having climbed up the
scuttle herself.

“
You’ve really got them
going,” she said.

“
I know, I heard. Are we
ready for phase II?”

She held up a set of chains he used in
winter. “All set.”

“
Okay, here
goes.”

Alex started moaning loudly as Elise walked
in increasingly large circles away from him, dragging the chains on
the rough pine floor of the attic as she added her own set of
groans to Alex’s mix. They were hoping the sounds were split enough
to make the pair just below think there were several ghosts above
them. Mrs. Nesbitt had warned them early on that she could sleep
through a hurricane, and the other rooms in that section were
empty, so they didn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone else
with their antics. That was the only way Elise had agreed to the
charade.

It was hard not to laugh, and a few of
Alex’s groans sounded distinctly like snickers. Maybe they’d think
one of the ghosts was insane!

Finally, they were ready for their crowning
touch. Alex motioned to Elise, gestured to the window again, and
climbed back out onto the roof. Elise’s job would be to whisper
into the microphone, “Leave us, leave us, leave us,” as Alex tapped
on the window again.

Alex got to his previous spot, leaned over,
and started to tap as he lost his balance again. The bamboo pole
slipped from his hand as he went over, sending his foot through the
window! The glass shattered as Alex caught himself and pulled back
up on the gutter. That had been entirely too close.

Alex scrambled back inside, glad he’d worn
his work boots instead of his flimsy running shoes. His little
stunt could have ended in disaster in a dozen different ways.

Elise’s eyes were bright in the weak light.
“What happened?”

“
I slipped and nearly fell.
My foot went through the window as it was.”

“
Alex, are you all
right?”

“
I am now, but I think I’ve
haunted my last room. I hope the glass didn’t hit them.”

They turned on the walkie-talkie and
listened to the room below.

Paul said frantically, “I don’t care about
the story anymore. I’m getting out of here.”

“
You’re not leaving me
behind,” Sheila yelled.

“
Hey, you’re on your own.
If you’re not ready in two minutes, I’m out of here, with or
without you. Pretending to be married to you was just about more
than I could take. I’m not about to hang around here and let a
ghost get me. If you want to write the story, be my guest, but I’m
not touching it.”