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He smiled. "Good, because I'd hate to have to lie to you."
"Elise, don't worry about Alex. Mor and I will keep an eye on him," Emma said.
After they walked out, Alex saw that Evans Graile had shifted his attention to him. The older man offered a gentle shrug before turning back to the window.
Alex couldn't believe Elise was really gone. He'd come to rely on her help in running Hatteras West, and if he was being strictly honest with himself, her company meant more and more to him every day.
There was no doubt that she had to go; her father needed her. And now that Elise was gone, Alex was going to have to work harder than ever.
But he wasn't about to give up his murder investigation. Alex had given Shantara his word, and it wasn't something he was willing to break.
"Alex, can I talk to you a second?"
"Shantara, I'm really busy right now. I'm up to my eyebrows in work."
"Please, it's important," she said.
Alex nodded reluctantly, then noticed that Evans Graile was listening to them, though his eyes were still focused outside. He was certainly getting a show for his money today.
"Why don't we go into my office," Alex said.
She followed him, and after they were inside, Alex asked, "So, what's going on?"
"I owe you an explanation."
"You don't owe me anything. I already said I'd help you."
"I wasn't playing fair with you before, Alex. I shouldn't have pressured you into this without giving you all the facts." Shantara let out an explosion of breath, then said, "I owed Jefferson Lee quite a bit of money. If the police investigation takes too long, I'm afraid it's all going to come out and make me look like I had something to do with his murder."
"How much are we talking about here?" Alex asked softly.
"Ten thousand dollars. It's enough of a motive to make me a suspect, isn't it?"
Alex's silence was all the answer she needed.
Shantara paced around the cramped room. "Alex, I knew it was a mistake taking a loan from him, but I didn't know where else to turn. The bank had already turned me down, and I was in real danger of losing the store."
"What made you go to him?"
"I knew he had money to burn, Alex. Jefferson had more things going on that just his blacksmithing."
Alex said gently, "So you let him get a foothold in your store."
Shantara wrung her hands together. "Alex, you'd better believe I regretted every second of it! There were no papers drawn up, nothing legal, anyway, just an IOU from me to him. It made my skin crawl, the way he'd come into my store and act like it was his. Alex, that's the main reason I created this fair! It was the only way I could get him off my back. I had some of the money, and the proceeds from the fair would have covered the rest."
Alex studied her carefully. "There's more to this that you're not telling me."
Shantara moved to the window, refusing to meet his gaze. She didn't confirm or deny Alex's accusation immediately.
After a few moments, she said, "Alex, I'm honestly scared."
"Go on," Alex said softly.
In a shaking voice, Shantara said, "When I told Jefferson I was finally going to be able to pay him off, he said I wasn't taking the extra interest into consideration. He was trying to extort more money from me, Alex. He was threatening to take my shop."
"So what did you say?"
Shantara sighed deeply, then admitted, "I told him if he tried to collect, I'd kill him."
Alex couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Was anyone else around when you said it, Shantara?"
She nodded glumly. "It happened in my store, Alex. A dozen people probably heard me. I didn't exactly lower my voice when I threatened him. I was upset."
Alex had to admit that his friend certainly had gotten herself into a jam.
After a few moments of thought, Alex said, "Here's what I'd do if I were you. Keep this loan arrangement to yourself. It's not going to do you any good volunteering the information to the sheriff. He's got a one-track mind, and you don't want it focused on you."
"What if he asks me about it later? Won't it look like I'm trying to hide something if I don't come clean now?"
Alex walked to her side. "Shantara, if you tell him now, he's bound to get suspicious. Let me dig into this some more. Your arrangement may never come to light."
Shantara leaned over and kissed him quickly on the cheek.
"What was that for?" Alex asked.
"For not asking me if I killed him. Thanks for believing in me, Alex."
"You're welcome. Now let me see what I can find out."
There was a knock on the door. Alex opened it, and Sandra Beckett walked into the small s.p.a.ce.
"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Sandra asked.
Shantara said, "No, I was just leaving. I've got to get back to the fair." Without another word, Shantara left the room.
"What was that all about?" Sandra asked.
"We were just covering a few things about the fair," he lied. Changing the subject, Alex asked, "Did you have any luck with the sheriff?"
Sandra nodded. "That's what I came by to tell you. Armstrong's released Bill Yadkin, at least for the moment. He warned Bill not to leave town, but the sheriff knows he's going to have to come up with more evidence before he can charge him with murder. Our sheriff told me to let you know he'll be here shortly to finish interviewing suspects. I've got a feeling he'll be trying to find some corroborating evidence to nail our young blacksmith friend."
Sandra paused at the door as she was leaving, trailing one hand on the frame. "Alex, if you need to talk, just give me a call. I know it could get lonely without Elise here."
"Everything's fine," he said impatiently.
She said, "I'm not doubting it for an instant. Just remember, sometimes it helps to have a friend nearby."
Before he could reply, she was gone. How had Sandra already picked up on the fact that Elise was gone? That's when he remembered that Betsy Jenkins, the town's only travel agent, was Sandra's secretary's sister-in-law. There was no doubt in Alex's mind that as soon as the ticket had been ordered, a follow-up telephone call went out. That was just great. Soon everyone in town would think she'd abandoned him.
Elise's absence was going to be a hardship, there was no doubt about that. Alex wasn't sure how in the world he was going to run Hatteras West single-handedly and solve Jefferson Lee's murder at the same time, but he was going to give it everything he had.
He had given Shantara his word.
Chapter 8.
By the time Sheriff Armstrong showed up, Alex was nearly finished folding another load of towels fresh from the dryer. Elise had taken care of cleaning the rooms before she'd gone, but he still had a great deal to do if he was going to keep his guests happy.
"You have a second?" the sheriff asked. His tone was the nicest it had been in days.
Alex finished folding the last towel. "Absolutely. I heard you released Bill Yadkin."
Armstrong said, "Let's just say I'm looking at all my options before I jump one way or another. I don't want to do anything official until I'm ready."
"What can I do for you, Sheriff?"
"Do you mind if I use your office again? I want to talk to that pottery couple, the woodworking lady and the weaver, too. I never had a chance to get to them earlier."
Alex nodded. "Sure, you know you're welcome to it. Is there any chance I can sit in on the interviews?" he asked casually.
"Normally I'd be okay with that. Alex, but I'd rather do this in private, if you don't mind."
"I understand." Alex said, trying to hide his disappointment. He would rather have been included in the interviews, but he'd been present before only by Sheriff Armstrong's grace, and it looked like he'd used up his share of it, at least for the moment.
"Don't worry. I'll track you down before I go and let you know what happened." Armstrong said as he walked out the door.
Alex made sure he had plenty to do in the main lobby the rest of the day. He wasn't spying: there truly was dusting and sweeping to do, but he did want to be close when the suspects left. If he was really lucky, he might even overhear something. At this point, anything would help.
Evans was in his chair as Alex worked, watching the world pa.s.s him by outside the inn's windows.
"Young man, I envy you," Evans said as Alex dusted off a collection of lanterns his grandfather had ama.s.sed. They were displayed prominently in one corner of the lobby on a stand Alex's father had built just for them.
"Grab a rag, Evans, there's plenty of dusting for everyone," Alex said, smiling.
The older man chuckled. "I don't mean I envy your daily tasks, I'm referring more to this life you lead. Interesting people traipse in and out of your life on a daily basis, and you have a beautiful home to live in with a wondrous lighthouse next door. You've truly got it all, young man."
Alex refrained from adding the realities of being an innkeeper: blocked toilets at two in the morning, guests who believed if it wasn't nailed down it was free for the taking, and all of the bone-wearying, mind-numbing work that had to be started fresh each and every day. In spite of it, not because of it, Alex loved Hatteras West, but he was also very aware of the tremendous amount of work involved in keeping it afloat. The fact that Evans Graile, a guest, sat enjoying the beautiful day while Alex, the innkeeper, worked steadily away punctuated the point more than anything he could ever say.
"It's a good life, Evans," he agreed, meaning it deep in his heart.
Alex heard raised voices coming from his office, so he moved to the front desk a few paces away from his door, where he pretended to go over the register receipts as he listened in.
The voices were suddenly much clearer now. Jenny Harris was in the office with Sheriff Armstrong, and from the sound of it, there was quite a battle going on.
Alex saw the k.n.o.b on his door spin. It gave him just enough time to bury his nose in the register before the door opened.
"You know where to find me," Jenny snapped at the sheriff as she stormed past Alex without even a nod.
Armstrong walked over to Alex, shaking his head. "She always was a little high-strung, wasn't she?"
Alex knew that better than Armstrong ever would. "I take it she objected to your line of questioning," he said with a slight grin.
It defused the tension in Armstrong's face. "You might say that. She's got to realize I know she was dating Jefferson Lee as recently as a few months ago. Of course she's going to be a suspect on my list."
Alex had known about Jenny and Jefferson; the two had struck him as an odd pairing, but love was sometimes indiscriminate in the couples it brought together.
Armstrong said, "Alex, I wouldn't say no to a soda. You have any in your fridge?"
Alex nodded. "Help yourself. In fact, I think I'll join you." He retrieved two drinks, thought about offering Evans one, but realized the man would never consume anything but his special blend of tea.
Besides, Alex wanted some time alone to pump the sheriff.
As they drank their sodas in his office, Alex asked, "So how do things look?"
"There are just too many people who had a reason to hate that man! I never cared for Lee myself, but I look like one of his biggest fans compared to what I've heard these last few days. I don't care if he was a real slug; he didn't deserve to die the way he did."
"n.o.body does," Alex agreed. "So, the husband-and- wife potters are next, right?"
Armstrong nodded. "I think I want to tackle them one at a time. Would you do me a favor, Alex? Would you go get one of them, I don't care which one, and tell them I want to see them? I need to make a phone call while you're doing that."
"Sure thing," Alex said. It would give him a chance to talk with the potters, and perhaps that would even help in his own investigation.
Marilynn Baxter was working on the potter's wheel, forming the clay gracefully into a bowl right before Alex's eyes. The spinning motion of the shifting clay was mesmerizing. How did she do it? He watched another minute before approaching Craig Monroe.
Instead of the summons he'd been ordered to give, Alex said, "She's really good, isn't she?"
Craig nodded absently. "One of the best I've ever seen, including me. I just wish ..."
"What," Alex prodded.
"Nothing," Craig said abruptly as he moved back to a drying rack starting to fill up with gray-shaded pieces. There were all kinds of items displayed there, from pitchers to bowls to plates to whimsical little pinched figures, all made of clay.
Craig was just moving a bowl when Alex said, "By the way, the sheriff sent me out to get you."
"That's right," Craig said as he nearly dropped the bowl. "He said he wanted to talk to us."
"One at a time," Alex added.
That brought a burnish to Craig's cheeks. "We talk to him together, or we don't talk to him at all!"
Alex said, "Hey, don't take it out on me, I'm just the messenger."
Craig walked over to Marilynn and said something Alex couldn't hear. Her hands faltered for a moment, and the delicate structure collapsed.