Key 126 Myers

Lighthouse Mystery #6

KEY TO MURDER

By

TIM MYERS

Key to Murder

by Tim Myers.

Copyright © 2010 Tim Myers

All rights reserved.

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All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

For Patty and Emily

Chapter 1

There was a storm brewing at the lighthouse on the edge of the Atlantic, but it wasn’t coming from the sea. Murder was in the air, something that seemed to follow Alex Winston wherever he went. This time though, he was seven hours away from home and nearly everything that was familiar to him.

Alex didn’t realize it yet, but struggling to solve this murder would change his life forever in a way that he couldn’t begin to fathom.

And troubling times would lead him to the most desperate act he’d ever committed in his life.

Chapter 2

“I can’t believe we’re actually here,” Elise Danton said to Alex Winston as they watched the sun rise out of the Atlantic Ocean through a break in the dunes.

Alex glanced at Elise as they sat on the back porch of the inn at the Cape Kidd lighthouse on the coast of the Outer Banks of North Carolina. It was a far cry from their regular place of business; Hatteras West, a replica of the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse nestled in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

“I just hope Harry and Barbara are enjoying our lighthouse half as much. It was a great idea to trade inns for a few weeks,” Alex answered as he reached out to hold Elise’s hand. They’d been dating for nearly a year, and Alex still couldn’t believe his good fortune. From the moment Elise had walked into the inn in Elkton Falls looking for a job, he’s known she was the one for him. Alex had worried that working together at the inn and dating would cause too much strain on their relationship, but they’d managed to balance it all just fine.

“They must be in heaven in the mountains,” Elise said. “As pretty as this place is, I have to admit that I like ours better.”

Alex loved how she referred to Hatteras West as theirs. It was true on so many levels. “I know exactly what you mean. Lighthouses look odd without hills around them, don’t they?”

She laughed, a sound he’d grown to love. “I’ve been trying to put my finger on what’s been so unsettling about the place, but you’re right. Every lighthouse should have mountains.”

Alex glanced at his watch, and then reluctantly released Elise’s hand. “We’d better get back inside. Mor and Emma are checking out today.”

“An innkeeper’s life is never idle, is it?” Elise asked. “I’m going to hate to see the two of them go.” Mor Pendleton and his wife, Emma Sturbridge Pendleton, were Alex and Elise’s closest friends. Mor helped run Mor or Les, a fix-it shop in Elkton Falls, and Emma helped out sometimes at the inn when things got particularly hectic. Their friends had taken a few days off to visit the coast, despite Les’s protests, but they were heading back home today.

As if on cue, the screen door opened. Alex was expecting to see his old friends, but instead, a couple in their late twenties joined them. They were both blond, dressed nicely in slacks and polo shirts, and were a little too pretty for Alex’s taste. The man asked, “Are you open yet?”

Alex stood, and Elise joined him. “We are. Do you have a reservation?” He knew they didn’t. It was slow season, and there was no one scheduled to visit the inn until the weekend. Harry had told him it was unusual to have drop-in guests this time of year, but it did happen.

“We were hoping you had room for us,” the man said. “Judging by your parking lot, I’m guessing we were right.”

“Of course there’s space available,” Elise said smoothly. “Let’s get you checked in.”

The four of them walked through the narrow hallway out into the main lobby where the front desk was located. Instead of the replica of the Hatteras Lighthouse’s Main Keeper’s Quarters they were used to, the Cape Kidd quarters were a little on the small size. Quaint little guest cottages had been built along the dune in the fifties, and it was a miracle they hadn’t all washed away in one of the storms that occasionally hit the Outer Banks. Harry had told Alex that he was lucky to have an inland lighthouse inn and didn’t have to constantly worry about beach erosion, but Alex had assured him that he had his own problems.

Alex put the guest ledger out on the counter of the scarred old oak desk. “If you’ll just sign in, we can get you processed.”

The man looked at him skeptically. “You do have a computer, don’t you? And a way to handle a credit card? I’m afraid I don’t usually carry much cash on me.”

“Don’t worry, we’re able to accommodate you,” Alex said. “The inn owners just like a personal log.”

The woman looked surprised. “You two aren’t the owners? I assumed you were a married couple running your own operation.”

“We run another inn together,” Alex said.

“But we’re not married,” Elise chimed in.

“No, of course not. I mean, not of course, but we’re not. We’re dating, though.” Alex couldn’t believe that he still got flustered in these situations. Honestly, he’d thought about asking Elise to marry him more than once, but he didn’t want to risk disturbing the balance they’d found. If he asked, and she said no, he was afraid that would be the end of them. Elise had been engaged before, and it hadn’t turned out well for her.

The woman smiled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to touch a nerve. I’m Michelle, and this is Jackson. We’re the Bennings.” She said the last bit with a special trill, and Alex wondered if they were newlyweds.

“Pleased to meet you,” Elise said.

Alex nodded. As Jackson slid his credit card across the counter, Alex asked, “May I see your driver’s license?”

He looked peeved for just a second, but then complied. Alex felt he should explain. “Sorry about that, but the owners asked me to confirm IDs.”

“That’s fine,” Michelle said. “If you could manage it, we’d like something private.”

“I could put you in the end unit,” Alex said. “It’s the Seafarer. How long will you be with us here at the Hat…Captain Kidd?”

“We might be here as long as a week, but let’s handle it a night at a time,” Jackson said. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“No, but I can offer you a better rate if you stay with us a week.”

The man looked amused by the offering. “Thanks for offering, but that’s not going to be an issue.”

Alex opened the top of the desk, showing a modern station complete with computer and printer. He didn’t know who had modified the desk, but he wished he had one himself. After running the card through the reader, a bill printed out and he handed Jackson a copy to sign. That done, Elise handed them a key.

“Is someone available to get our bags?” Jackson asked.

“I can take care of it,” Alex replied.

Michelle smiled at that. “I like that in a man. Is there anything you don’t do around here?”

“I don’t cook,” he admitted. “Elise is the chef.” He kept the fact that he baked the bread to himself. Somehow it felt as though her were showing off, trying to impress her, and there was only one woman he cared about impressing.

“Don’t forget, I’m the head of housekeeping, too,” she added with a smile.

“Excellent,” Michelle said.

As Alex followed them out to their car, he glanced back at Elise and raised one eyebrow. She shrugged and added a gentle smile before he left. They’d just spoken paragraphs without saying a word.

Alex was expecting a great deal of luggage when he got to their late model Mercedes, but instead, he found the truck held just two overnight bags. Why did the man need help with these? It wasn’t Alex’s place to question it. He grabbed both bags and walked them to their cottage. When they got there, he asked for the key, and then unlocked the door. It was a quaint little space, with a double bed, an easy chair, a small pine dresser, and a tiny bathroom not much bigger than a closet. There were nautical themes present everywhere, from paintings showing ships in storms to a seashell-filled glass lamp on the small nightstand. The bed was covered with a faded yellow spread that looked older than Alex, and the scarred wooden floors had gaps between the boards. A painted cast-iron lighthouse nearly two feet tall sat in the corner, and Alex always smiled when he saw it. It was a replica of the Cape Hatteras lighthouse, in a way just like his own was. Harry must have gotten a deal on the pieces; there was one in every cottage.

“Is this all there is to it?” Jackson asked as he looked around in distaste. “I’m assuming from the exterior that there’s not another room attached.”

“This is it,” Alex said without apology

“Don’t you have anything larger?” Jackson asked.

“Not really,” Alex replied.

Michelle smiled. “This is fine. It’s rather cozy, isn’t it?”

“I suppose,” Jackson replied.

Alex put the luggage on the bed and left the key on the small dresser. “We serve breakfast every morning, and if you’d like to have dinner with us, we need to know in advance. If you’d like, sandwiches are sometimes available for lunch if you feel like having a picnic while you’re staying here with us. I believe Elise said we were having egg salad sandwiches for lunch.”

“We’d like lunch and dinner, please,” Michelle said.

“Could we have room service?” Jackson asked, though Alex suspected he already knew the answer.

“I’m afraid not,” Alex said. “We’re a little short-handed around here this time of year. You can pick up your sandwiches around noon, and dinner is served promptly at six.”

“How charming,” Michelle said.

As Alex headed for the door, Michelle urged her husband, “Tip him.”

Jackson started to reach for his wallet when Alex said, “That won’t be necessary.” He felt it wasn’t appropriate for the proprietor to get tips at Hatteras West, and he saw no reason to change that working here.

“Don’t be difficult. We insist,” Michelle said.

Jackson pulled out a twenty and slid it into his hand. There was no sense protesting. After all, he didn’t have to be rude about it.

When he walked back into the main quarters of the inn, Elise was waiting for him. He loved the way the light hit her beautiful dark hair, and how her smile seemed to light up any room she was in. Alex was smitten, totally and completely, though he was sure he hid it well.

He was wrong.

“What did they say?” she asked.

“They want egg salad sandwiches for lunch, and they’re having dinner with us. Can you believe it? They gave me a tip,” Alex said with a smile as he held the twenty dollar bill up.

“Alex,” she said.

“Hey, I tried to decline, but they insisted. What was I going to say?”

“Maybe we can go out for some seafood with it before we go back home,” she said.

“We can, but not tonight. The Bennings will be joining us. They wanted room service, can you believe it?”

“From them? I can easily see it. Let’s see, what should I make tonight?”

“It’s your call,” Alex said.

“The larder’s getting kind of low. We should do a little shopping soon.”

“Just make me out a list and I’ll take care of it,” Alex said. As he spoke, the door opened, and a single man walked in. He was in his late forties and sported a mustache that had more pepper than salt in it, but not by much. He was handsome, in a dark sort of way.

“May I help you?” Elise asked.

He seemed to take her in for a moment, a prolonged instant of uncomfortable silence that passed between them. Alex was certain he was about to say something to Elise about her good looks, but a frown crept onto her face, and he astutely changed his mind. Elise had been a beauty queen once upon a time, but she wasn’t all that comfortable with her prettiness. “I’d like a room,” the man said simply.

“How many nights?” Alex asked.

“One to start.”

Alex pointed to the sign-in book. “Just sign there.”

The man hesitated, but then Alex saw him scribble something down. From where he stood, it was entirely illegible.

After Alex quoted him the nightly rate, the man slid a pair of hundreds across the desk. Alex started to make change, but the man said, “Keep the difference.”

It was an even more substantial tip than he’d gotten earlier. “I still need a credit card imprint for any additional charges,” Alex said. Though it was technically true, Alex was asking for another reason. He had a sudden desire to know the man’s real name.

Instead of producing a card, the man offered another hundred dollar bill. “That should take care of it. Now, if you’ll give me a key, I’ll be on my way.”

“I’ll be glad to get your bags,” Alex said as he grabbed a key to the Whaler, the room farthest from his new guests as he could manage, all the way on the other side of the small lighthouse.

“No problem. I can handle it,” he said as he grabbed the key.

Before he left, Alex made one last stab at an ID. He looked at the book and said, “I’m sorry, I can’t make this out. What’s your name?”

The man said, “Brown,” and then left.

“What was that all about?” Elise asked.

“I wish I knew. I thought Harry said this was their slow time of year.”

“Maybe it is. What do you make of him?”

“I’m guessing Brown isn’t his real name,” Alex said. He was about to say something else when Mor and Emma walked in.

They were both frowning, and Alex had an immediate sense that something was wrong with his friends.

Mor Pendleton was a big man, with thick meaty hands and a football player’s physique. Emma was no small woman, and together, they were a physical presence to be reckoned with. “What’s up, you two?” Alex asked. “We were beginning to worry about you.”

“I want to stay,” Emma said, “but Mor needs to get back.”

“Lester is having a fit,” Mor replied. “I pushed him as it was to even come here in the first place.”

“I’m not ready to go,” Emma said.

“Then stay,” Mor said. There wasn’t an ounce of harshness in his voice, but Alex was still a little unsettled every time he heard his friend and his wife discuss anything. There always seemed to be a bite to their words, whether either one of them realized it.

“Not without you,” Emma said.

Mor grinned. “What the matter, don’t you trust me being on my own in Elkton Falls without you?”

“You I trust,” Emma said. “Molly Graves is a different story.”

Alex knew that ever since Molly had moved to Elkton Falls, Emma had been suspicious of her affection for her husband. Alex knew his friend’s devotion to his wife was unwavering, but he had a habit of tweaking his wife about the attention he got, even though his life would have been easier if he didn’t.

“I keep telling you, it’s all in your imagination,” Mor said.

“Maybe not all of it,” Elise said softly. Alex wasn’t even certain she’d meant to say it aloud, but Emma jumped all over it.

“There, you see? It’s not just me.”

Mor shook his head. “Don’t tell me you’re buying it, too.”

Elise shrugged. “She does seem to break a great many things.”

“It happens, and she brings her business to us. That’s what Les and I do; we fix stuff. It’s all harmless.”

Elise didn’t look as though she was buying it, and neither did Emma. Alex’s friend appealed to him as he asked, “Surely you’re on my side, right?”

“I don’t have an opinion one way or another,” Alex said.

“Coward,” Mor said with a smile.

“I think he’s smart,” Emma said.

“You would. So, are you coming with me, or not?”

Emma seemed to debate it for a moment, and then finally said, “I’d better. After all, somebody’s got to keep an eye on you.” She hugged him as she said it, and followed it up with a kiss.

Mor’s grin broke free. “I’m glad you’re coming with me. To be honest with you, I miss you when you’re not around.”

“That’s sweet,” Emma said, and then she turned to us. “We love it here with you.”

“It’s been great having you,” Elise said.

Alex added, “Do me a favor. Pop in at the lighthouse when you get back.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking me to check up on your friends?”

Alex shook his head. “No, it’s nothing like that. Just make sure they’re doing okay. Harry’s best friend has been over here twice since we got here, so it’s not like he won’t be expecting it. It’s just the neighborly thing to do.”

Mor nodded. “We’ll drop by tonight.” He glanced at his wife, and then added, “That is, if we get on the road before noon.”

Emma glanced at her watch. “We could have left half an hour ago if you hadn’t wanted to look for more seashells, as if we didn’t already have a trunk full of them.”

Mor seemed embarrassed by the revelation of what they’d been up to. “You know they aren’t for me, they’re for Lester. He loves ‘em, for some reason.”

“Tell him he can come himself, if he wants to,” Elise said. “We’ve got room.”

“At least for now, but the way things are going today, that might not be true soon.”

“Things picking up?” Mor asked.

“I just hope Harry and Barbara are this busy,” Alex said.

After they shared hugs all the way around, even a brief one between Mor and Alex, the married couple was off.

As Alex and Elise watched them drive away, he asked, “Is there a part of you that wishes we were going with them?”

“I miss Hatteras West,” she admitted, “but I’ll stick with you.”

“I’m glad of that,” Alex said as he put an arm around her.

“Because you’d miss me too much?” she asked.

“There’s that, and the fact that my cooking would probably run all of our guests off.”

Elise laughed and hugged him a little tighter. “You’ve got a point, there.”

They were just about to go back inside when a large black SUV drove down the crushed shell drive toward them.

“Who could this be?” Elise asked.

“I don’t know, but I’m not sure I like it. If this keeps up, we’re going to have to move Dutch back into his old room.” Dutch was the part-time handyman who lived at Captain Kidd. Harry had told Alex that in exchange for the occasional odd job around the place, Dutch stayed in a small cottage that was really not much more than a gardener’s shed.

“Let’s hope not,” Elise said. “I don’t have the heart to evict him.”

“I’m not sure I do either,” Alex said.

Three adults somewhere in their forties got out of the SUV, though it could have held twice as many people.

The two men wore fashionable clothing, slacks and nice shirts. They stretched as though they’d been driving for some time while the stylish woman in a navy blue suit of her own approached them. “We’re the Morrisons, and I must say, we didn’t expect a welcoming committee,” she said.

“If we knew you were checking in, we might have planned it,” Alex admitted.

She turned to one of the men. “John. They didn’t know we were coming.”

“I made reservations for the tenth, Elizabeth,” John said.

“That’s great, but it’s the ninth,” Alex replied. “And you don’t have reservations here for either date.”

“John,” she called out, and one of the men approached.

When he neared them, Elizabeth said, “The innkeeper tells me that we don’t have reservations here at all.”

John frowned. “This is the Kidd Motel, right?”

Alex shook his head. “Sorry, it’s the Cape Kidd Lighthouse Inn. The place you are looking for is on the other side of town.”

Elizabeth looked around. “I like it here.”

“So do we,” Alex answered.

“Then we’ll stay. You do have room for us, don’t you?”

“We’ve got the space available,” Elise said.

“Three rooms?” the woman asked.

“Better than that. We have three individual cottages open, if you’d like them. Why don’t we get you signed in?”

She looked at the two men before she’d budge. “Greg, stay with the car. John, perhaps you should keep him company.”

John didn’t look pleased by the command, but Greg seemed delighted. Alex got the impression that the farther he could be away from Elizabeth, the better.

She walked into the inn, with Alex and Elise trailing her. Alex was about to say something when the woman stopped at the door and asked, “Are you two coming?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Alex said.

As she checked the three of them in with a credit card, she remarked, “I’m glad we were able to beat the storm here.”

“What storm?” Alex asked.

“You haven’t heard? There’s a tropical storm moving in down the coast. It’s supposed to hit tonight. I thought you people would be savvy about watching the weather out here, isolated as you are.”

“We normally live in the mountains,” Alex admitted. “We swapped inns with friends of ours.”

“They picked an excellent time to leave,” Elizabeth said.

Elise asked tentatively, “Is it supposed to be bad?”

“Who knows? These things have a tendency to blow themselves out. Would we have come if we thought we were in any danger?”

Alex didn’t know what they might do, but he promised himself to turn on the radio and check for forecasts. They didn’t have a television at the inn, Harry had explained. Their guests liked to get away from the world, something that was impossible with around the clock access. He hadn’t missed it until now, but Alex was beginning to realize just how isolated they really were.

At least they had paying guests, though.

In fact, it appeared that the Cape Kidd inn was going to be nearly full. With that and a possible storm coming inland, it was all going to be a little too exciting for Alex’s taste.

So much for a quiet and restful vacation he and Elise had been hoping for.

Chapter 3

“Alex, these people are impossible,” Elise said as she burst into the dining room of the inn where he was setting the tables. It was nearing six, and they were going to be so full that Elise might have to eat in the kitchen. Alex would join her if he could, but he’d be serving dinner and waiting on their guests. That was one reason he liked that fact that they just served breakfast at the Hatteras West. Elise had been steadily pushing for a dinner menu for nearly a year, but the only way Alex would agree to that was if they hired a couple of kids from a nearby college to wait tables.

“You know as well as I do that guests can be a little demanding,” Alex said. “We just have to swallow it and smile.”

“I know that,” Elise said, a rare burst of irritation coming from her. “But the Bennings are insisting on a vegetarian menu. I tried to explain that I didn’t have much on hand in the way of supplies, but they wouldn’t listen.”

“What are we having?” Alex asked.

“I made beef stew for the main course tonight.”

He loved her cooking, and his mouth instantly began to water. “They could always pick out the meat,” Alex said.

“And the liquid, too? It’s beef broth, Alex, and it’s infused in everything. You have to say something to them.”

Alex nodded. He’d dealt with his share of demanding customers in the past. “As soon as I tell them, can I eat before I have to serve everyone else? You know how grumpy I get if I don’t get my meals on time.”

She patted his cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a bowl ready for you in the kitchen,” she said.

Alex nodded, and then walked out through the dining room door. The Bennings were there, and Jackson was not at all pleased, though he could swear that Michelle looked amused by the fuss.

“May I help you?” Alex asked.

“We need a vegetarian diet,” Jackson said, “and your cook said it was impossible.”

Alex did his best to keep his voice calm and level. “Sorry, but those requests have to be made a week prior to your stay. We have to stock the kitchen, after all.” Alex didn’t know if this was true or not, but it might be the best way to diffuse the situation.

“Are you saying your chef can’t make us anything at all to eat?” Michelle asked. “It doesn’t have to be fancy. We aren’t that choosy.”

Alex was about to comply with her perfectly reasonable request when Jackson grabbed his wife’s arm. “Forget it. We’ll eat somewhere else.”

“Jackson, there’s no reason to be that way,” she said. “There’s a storm coming, and it might get bad. I’d rather eat here.”

“We’re leaving,” he said.

Michelle shot a look of apology to Alex, and then the two of them left.

Alex walked back in and found that Elise was gone. He headed for the kitchen and took in a deep breath of the glorious aroma of beef stew. As promised, she had a bowl on the counter for him, along with a thick slab of his homemade bread. He headed straight for the food when she cut him off.

“What did they say?”

“The problem’s solved,” Alex answered as he looked around for a spoon. If he didn’t find one fast, he was going to use the bread and sop up as much of the liquid goodness as he could.

“How exactly did you solve it?”

“They’re gone,” Alex said. “Is there a spoon around here?”

“You threw them out?”

He shook his head. “Not me. I know better. They left of their own accord.”

“Now they aren’t even staying at the inn? I probably could have whipped something up for them if they’d just asked nicely.”

“They aren’t leaving, they’re just going to get something to eat outside the inn,” Alex replied. “Now, give me a spoon, or I’m going to start using my fingers.”

She handed him a spoon, and he dug in. Alex couldn’t believe how wonderful the simple meal was. He respected the Bennings choice in what they consumed, but he knew he could never follow that particular path. He loved what he ate too much now to give any of it up.

“Tell them I’ll have something for them tomorrow,” she said.

“If I see them first, I will,” Alex promised between bites.

He was nearly finished when Elise said, “It’s six o’clock, Alex.”

“Another few minutes won’t kill them,” he said with a smile. “They can wait out in the hallway until I’m finished.”

She took the spoon from him playfully and smiled. “Guess what? You’re finished.”

“At least save me some for later,” Alex said as he washed his hands in the sink.

Elise laughed at the request. “You’ve had enough, don’t you think?”

“Not even close.” He leaned in and kissed her, something he doubted he’d ever grow tired of doing. “You’re pretty wonderful, you know that, don’t you?”

“That’s what you keep telling me,” Elise said. She swatted him lightly with her towel. “Now, our guests are waiting.”

Alex saluted and added a smile, and then put on his best server’s expression. It was time to face his hungry guests.

He just hoped they appreciated their meals as much as he had.

To his surprise, the man Brown was the only one waiting when Alex opened the door to the dining room. He wore the same clothing he’d had on earlier, but his clothes were wrinkled, as though he’d slept in them. Part of his afternoon must have been spent taking a nap, something Alex was envious of. Alex put on his best smile and said, “Feel free to sit wherever you’d like.”

Brown nodded, and then headed for the table farthest from the kitchen and facing the door. As he took the seat with his back to the wall, Alex walked over and joined him.

“Tonight we’re having homemade beef stew, artisan bread, and banana pudding for dessert. Sorry we don’t have more choices, but we weren’t expecting anyone tonight.”

“Stew’s fine,” Brown said as he opened a newspaper and completely obscured his face as he began reading. It was rude, but there was nothing Alex could do about it.

“Sweet tea to drink?” Alex asked. He didn’t know much about the man named Brown, but the drawl of his accent told him the man had been born in the South.

“Fine,” Brown said, not looking up from his paper.

Alex glanced out into the hallway as he headed for the kitchen, but no one else was out there yet. The handyman, Dutch, liked to eat with them, and normally he was prompt when it came to getting fed for free. Alex wondered where he was, but then quickly forgot about him the second he saw Elise standing at the sink doing dishes, her lustrous dark hair pulled back in a ponytail.

Alex saw there were five waiting bowls on the serving counter. She asked, “Is everyone out there?”

“No, so far, it’s just Brown. If you ask me, that man talks too much.”

“What did he say?” Elise asked, clearly interested.

“Let’s see. First he said, ‘Stew’s fine’, and then he said, ‘fine’ when I asked him about sweet tea. The man’s a real motor-mouth. He’s got his head buried in a newspaper, and the way he’s holding it, it’s hard to tell that he’s even there.”

“No one else is eating?” Elise asked.

“Give them time. I’m sure the Morrisons will be along shortly.”

“What about Dutch?” she asked. “He’s never been late for a meal since we arrived.”

“That I was wondering about myself. Should I go look for him?”

“No,” she replied. “He’ll find his way in.”

Alex grabbed the pitcher of sweet tea, then put it on the tray with a bowl of beef stew and a thick slab of the artisan bread he’d made himself. Elise loved to cook, but Alex had really grown fond of baking lately, especially bread. This loaf had a dark, crisp crust, with a center that was filled with light and flavorful goodness.

When he walked into the dining room, he found the Morrisons standing impatiently by the door, as though they’d been waiting for him for hours.

“Feel free to sit wherever you’d like,” Alex said as he delivered the food to Brown. He noticed that the man looked the three new guests over carefully before returning his attention to his paper. It was almost as though he was disappointed seeing them there.

Alex put the food down in front of Brown, and then asked, “Will there be anything else?”

“Just the check,” Brown said. “I might have to leave soon.”

What an odd thing to say. Where would he go, with the growing bad weather outside? Alex replied, “We’ll add it to your bill. That will come under that incidental hundred you left.”

“Good enough.”

Alex shook his head slightly as he moved to the Morrisons. Working at Hatteras West had taught him that guests could be the oddest folks on earth, but Brown was setting the bar even higher than Alex had seen before.

Thankfully, the Morrisons were all happy with stew, and as he served them, Alex admired the way they dug in.

Alex was heading back to the kitchen for a quick word with Elise when he saw their handyman start in through the door. Dutch had a full beard and long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. His clothes were most likely from Good Will, but they were clean and in good repair, and his worn shoes had a shine to them. Dutch nodded to Alex, glanced into the room, and then left just as suddenly.

Alex was concerned about the expression on the man’s face.

“Dutch, are you okay?” Alex asked as he caught up with him in the lobby.

“To be honest with you, I’m a little under the weather,” Dutch said. “I felt a little queasy just then. I’m not sure I’m up for company tonight.”

Well, he was certainly pale enough. “Some of Elise’s stew is just what you need.”

“I hate to ask, but would you mind bringing me some at my cottage?” Dutch asked plaintively. “I don’t think I could make it to the kitchen and back.”

“I suppose I could,” Alex answered, not entirely sure that waiting on the handyman was part of his job description. But if the man was truly ill, which Alex didn’t doubt, how could he say no? “I’ll bring you some tea and bread, too.”

“You’re a life saver,” Dutch said as he rushed out the door.

Alex joined Elise and said, “I need one stew and all the trimmings to go.”

“Alex, I promise you there will be enough left for you when we close.”

“It’s not for me. Dutch is feeling a little under the weather.”

A look of concern spread on Elise’s face. “How terrible. Let me fix something up for him.”

Alex watched as she gathered a little basket together, transferring some stew into a Tupperware container, adding a bottle of sweet tea, and a generous portion of Alex’s bread. She frowned for a second, and then added a vase with one of the flowers from the kitchen, a bouquet Alex had just bought for her the day before. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not,” Alex said. He loved the nurturing side of her, and she’d taken good care of him during a bout he’d had with the flu a few months before. While Alex had felt like dying in his room, Elise had managed to run the inn at Hatteras West, with just a little help from their friend, Emma.

Alex took the tray out, then glanced around the dining room. It appeared that no one even noticed him, but he wasn’t even at the lobby door before the man Brown caught up with him.

“Where are you taking that?” Brown asked, as though he was accusing Alex of something.

“Our handyman’s under the weather,” Alex explained.

“Oh,” Brown replied, as though he were disappointed with the response.

The man was seriously odd, and Alex vowed to keep an eye on him.

It was beginning to rain, so Alex grabbed a raincoat, then covered the tray with another one that Harry and Barbara provided to their guests. He was standing on the porch waiting for a break in the rain when Michelle and Jackson drove up in their car.

“What’s that?” Jackson asked. “I didn’t think you did room service.”

“We don’t,” Alex explained. “It’s for our handyman. He’s under the weather.”

“It looks like we all will be soon, the way it’s pouring,” Michelle said. “Please tell him that we hope he’ll get to feeling better.”

Behind him, Alex heard one of the shutters come loose in the wind and bang against the side of the main quarters.

As he turned to latch it back, Jackson drove away to their cottage, kicking up the crushed seashell drive as he sped off.

The rain didn’t look like it was going to ease up any time soon, so Alex decided it was time to make a dash for it. He got to Dutch’s cottage, and then had to knock on the door three times before the man let him in. “Sorry, I was in the bathroom.”

“Feeling any better?”

“Not yet, but I bet I will be soon.”

As Alex put the tray down on the dresser, he said, “It’s really storming out there. Do you ever lose power here?”

“All of the time,” Dutch said. “There are candles in the kitchen, and don’t forget about the fireplace in the main entry. It will keep you warm.”

“I never thought about having a fire on the Outer Banks.”

“Trust me, it gets plenty cold here in the winter,” he said. “We even get snow sometimes. That’s a sight to see, let me tell you.”

“I don’t suppose you have a generator,” Alex said.

“Never saw the need for the expense,” Dutch said. “The power’s not the main problem we’ve got, anyway.”

“What could be worse than losing your electricity?” Alex asked. He couldn’t imagine stumbling around in the dark so close to the ocean.

“If the storm’s bad enough, it could wash out the road. Then we’re stuck here until someone comes along and plows us out. That is if they remember us at all.”

Great. Harry had neglected to mention any of that when he’d first proposed the lighthouse swap, and Alex was beginning to wonder just who had gotten the best part of that particular deal. “Let me know if you need anything,” Alex said as headed back for the door.

“I’ll be fine here,” Dutch said. “I just need a good meal, and a solid night’s sleep. No need to worry about me.”

Alex nodded, and then wrapped himself in one of the jackets as he made his way back to the main quarters. At least he and Elise wouldn’t have to brave the storm. There were two rooms in the central building, and they’d each taken one the day they’d arrived.

As Alex struggled through the growing wind and rain, he hoped his guests would be all right. It was the innkeeper in him, no matter where he was, that made him think of his customers first.

As Alex got back, he was soaking wet, despite the protective gear he’d worn.

He found the Morrisons standing on the porch, looking out at the weather with great distaste. “Is it going to let up soon?” Elizabeth asked.

“It doesn’t look like it,” Alex said. “We’ve got raincoats for everyone, and if we lose power, there are candles in all of the cottages.”

Elizabeth turned to John. “You said you wanted to rough it. It appears you’re about to get your wish.”

“Greg wanted to come here, too,” John said.

“You’re both daft fools,” Elizabeth said, then grabbed a rain-jacket and headed out into the storm. The two men watched her go, and it appeared they’d forgotten all about me for a moment. John said, “Your sister is more than a little crazy.”

“Not as crazy as yours,” Greg answered.

Both men laughed, and Alex said, “I don’t get it.”

John smiled ruefully at Alex. “It’s an old family joke. Elizabeth is the oldest, and she’s always been a little odd.”

“And more than a little mean,” Greg added.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” The men grabbed jackets, and then took off into the night. At least the lights in front of each cottage were still lit, so they could find their way.

Alex was surprised to see that Brown was still at his table, his head again buried in the paper. How had he found that much to read? It was nearing seven, and Alex was ready to close the dining room for the night. He ran a hand through his wet hair and approached the last diner. When Alex glanced at Brown’s plate, he saw that the stew was gone, but the bread hadn’t been touched.

“Something wrong with that?” Alex asked as he pointed to the bread.

“I’m sure some people like it, but it’s not to my taste,” Brown said.

Alex shrugged. He wasn’t about to confess that he’d made it himself. “We’re closing, so feel free to make your way back to your cottage.”

Brown looked surprised by the announcement. “Has everyone who’s staying here eaten already tonight?”

“There’s just one other couple, but they ate out, so we’re wrapping up for the night.”

Brown looked outside as the wind blew the rain against the panes as though they were in a car wash. “They might not make it back in this mess.”

“No worries. They’re already here,” Alex said.

Brown nodded, then left the dining room without another word, leaving his newspaper behind.

Alex gathered up the dirty dishes, and then headed into the kitchen.

“That’s it,” he said as he cleaned the bowls into the trashcan.

“Our Mr. Brown finally left?”

“Not without a nudge from me,” Alex answered. “It’s getting nasty out there, and Dutch thinks we might lose power. He suggested we grab candles and light a fire in the fireplace.”

“What a wonderful idea,” Elise said. “Barbara left me instructions to use the driftwood on the porch. She said sometimes they put off the most lovely colors when they’ve soaked in minerals.”

“Then let’s go ahead and light the fire now.” He looked around the kitchen. “These dishes can wait until tomorrow.”

She threw a dishrag at him playfully. “You know I’ll never be able to get to sleep if we just leave them. Come on, it will be fun. I’ll wash, and you can dry.”

“I hate to admit it, but that’s the best offer I’ve had all day.”

After the dishes were done and the kitchen was cleaned up, Alex looked around. “Hey, where’s that stew you were saving me?”

“It’s gone,” Elise admitted. “You wouldn’t believe how those Morrisons can eat! They had two servings each. I did save you some banana pudding, though.”

Alex thought about it, and then realized that he wasn’t really all that hungry. “It’s not worth making another dirty dish.”

Elise touched his face lightly. “You poor deprived man.”

He took her in his arms and kissed her. “I’m not that deprived. Are you ready for that fire?”

“It sounds lovely,” she answered. They often had a fire at Hatteras West, and it was one of Alex’s favorite things about being with Elise. It felt as though they could really talk, sitting there staring at the dancing flames. He just hoped that she cherished it as much as he did.

Alex lit the fire already laid up in the fireplace, but it took a few minutes to really catch. “We’re getting some back draft from the storm,” he said.

“It’s going to be bad, isn’t it?”

“Don’t worry,” Alex said as retrieved some candles and put them firmly in their holders. “We’ll be fine.”

At that moment, the lights flickered once, twice, and then went out completely.

It appeared that the storm was finally making its presence felt.

In the light of the flickering fire, Alex and Elise lit a handful of candles. Placed on the mantle, they gave off a soft glow with the mirror that stood above.

“That’s really nice,” Alex said as he settled in on the couch.

Elise sat beside him and snuggled up close. “It’s cozy. How wonderful to be safe and dry.”

Alex nodded. “There’s just one thing missing.”

She leaned forward and turned to look at him. “What’s that?”

“Banana pudding, and two spoons.”

She laughed as she stood up suddenly. “I can fix that.” Elise grabbed one of the candles, leaving the heavy candelabra on the mantle. “Don’t you go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

She was as good as her word, and soon returned with a decent sized bowl and two spoons. “I saved this for us.”

“I knew there was a reason I loved you,” Alex said, marveling yet again how good it felt to be able to say it out loud.

“There’s surely more reason than banana pudding,” she answered with a smile.

“I can think of a couple of thousand,” Alex replied. “Would you like to hear the list?”

“No, I trust you,” she said. Before handing him a spoon, she gave him a quick kiss and said, “By the way, I love you, too.”

“Because?” Alex asked.

She tweaked his cheek. “No fishing for compliments tonight. Just accept that it’s true.”

“I do,” Alex said, and then grabbed a spoon. “Let’s eat.”

Elise laughed. “I can always count on you to have dessert. A friend of mine used to say that if you can bake a cake, you can find a man.”

“Banana pudding works, too,” Alex said.

They chatted, enjoyed the fire and the pudding, and as the wood started to die down, Alex asked, “Should I put another log on the fire?”

“It’s been a big day,” Elise said as she yawned, “And we have to get up early to make breakfast. Would you mind if we call it a night?”

“I’m beat, too,” Alex said. “Thanks again for coming here with me, Elise. I know that it’s been a lot of work, but it’s been fun.”

She kissed him, long and lingering, and then said, “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Good night, Alex.”

“Night,” he answered. She took her candle down the hall to her bedroom, and Alex used the iron poker to knock the remnants of the fire down. She was right in calling it a night. Tomorrow was another big day for them. Someday he hoped to take her on a real vacation where people waited on them, and not a busman’s holiday where they had to work, too. Not that Elise would ever complain about it, but Alex reveled in giving her the best experiences he could. She was so much a part of his life that he didn’t know what he’d do without her.

As the storm continued to rage outside, he hoped that he never had to find out if he could manage on his own again.

Chapter 4

The next morning, Alex awoke to a gray haze outside his window. It appeared that the sun was trying to break free of the clouds, but it wasn’t having a lot of luck. At least the rain had stopped sometime in the night. Alex flicked the light-switch off and on a few times, and then realized that the power hadn’t yet been restored to the inn.

He quickly dressed and made his way out into the lobby of the main quarters and then into the kitchen. Elise was already up, putting a pan of biscuits into the oven. “Good morning, Alex. I’m thrilled they cook with gas here,” she said. “I might have to mix everything by hand, but at least we’ll eat. Did you sleep well?”

“I did. There’s something about the salt air that just knocks me out.”

“I know exactly what you mean. I’ll miss it when we go back to Hatteras West.”

“We’ve got nearly a week left,” Alex said. “I’m hoping we can take a few more walks on the beach before we go.”

“I just wish we could light the lighthouse lantern again,” Elise said. The lighthouse had been decommissioned for years, but Harry had gotten permission to light the old-fashioned kerosene lantern that hung free inside the lens on special occasions. Alex had misunderstood somehow, and he’d lit it the first two nights they’d been there. Their nearest neighbor, an old man with beady eyes and a stooped back, had come to the inn and declared that if Alex lit the lantern again before it was due in four weeks, he’d call the state police and have him thrown in jail. Alex didn’t doubt the man would do just that, but he found himself wishing that he could see that beacon lit just once more before they left Cape Kidd behind.

“We should light up Hatteras West when we get home,” Alex said. “Now, that’s a light.”

“I do miss it,” Elise said. They’d made a pilgrimage to the original lighthouse a few hours down the coast, and Alex had marveled at how close his ancestor had come to replicating it. Still, the one on the Outer Banks looked out of place, and the black-and-white-striped lighthouse on the coast made him homesick in a way that he never would have imagined was possible.

“Can I give you a hand with breakfast?” Alex asked.

“No, I’ve got it covered. Why don’t you take a walk and see if the storm caused any damage to the cottages?”

“That’s a good idea,” he said. Alex stepped out on the porch, and was surprised by the temperature drop from the night before. The storm had not just brought rain; it had lowered the temperature by a good fifteen degrees. Alex ducked back into his room for a sweater and cap, and then walked out again.

The first thing he saw was the road leading into the inn.

Or the lack of it.

Sand had been washed across it, leaving ridges and valleys that no car could traverse. They were a good mile from the main road, and it would be a long hike through the terrain. For all intents and purposes, they were isolated. If the main road had taken a hit as bad as they had, it might be days before they were dug out of their sandy trap.

At least the cottages looked as though they’d stood up to the storm. Alex wasn’t sure what the proper etiquette should be for knocking on the individual doors, so he satisfied himself with looking around outside the buildings to see if he could spot anything wayward that might have happened during the night. The curtains were pulled shut in all three of the Morrison bungalows, as well as the small space Dutch occupied. Alex wondered if the handyman was feeling any better. Better let him sleep in, he thought.

The curtains to the Benning cottage were open, and as Alex walked by, the front door opened. It was Michelle Benning, smiling brightly. “Good morning, Alex. It’s lovely out, isn’t it?”

He took a deep breath, then agreed. “If the weather holds, I’ll be happier, but I have to admit that I love it here. It’s going to be a little sad leaving it.”

“That’s right, your inn is in the mountains. What’s it like there?”

“Believe it or not, it has a lighthouse, too,” Alex said.

Michelle clearly didn’t believe him, something Alex was used to. She asked with a puzzled expression on her face, “Why would there be a lighthouse in the mountains?”

“One of my ancestors was a hopeless romantic trying to appease his new bride’s homesickness,” Alex said.

Michelle took the explanation at face value. “That I understand. A man in love can be a powerful force.”

“Where’s Mr. Benning this morning?” Alex asked. He thought it was a natural segue, though after her curious expression, he wasn’t quite sure he had that right.

“He’s still sleep,” she said. “I love mornings, but I’m afraid Jackson is more of a night owl. Care to take a stroll with me?”

Alex knew that he had time before breakfast, and Michelle Benning was pleasant company. “Sure, that sounds great.”

They started toward the beach when something appeared to catch Michelle’s eye. “Is that door open?”

Alex looked where she was pointing and saw that the Brown cottage door was indeed ajar. Had he missed that before, or had it just happened since he’d passed by? It was hard to say, either way.

“He must have just forgotten to close it,” Alex said as he neared the door. He knocked on the doorframe and said, “Hello, Mr. Brown, is everything okay?”

There was no reply.

Alex knocked again, and when there was still no response, he pushed the door open.

Behind him, he heard Michelle Benning gasp as he took in the scene.

At first it appeared that Mr. Brown was fast asleep, face down on his bed, though he was still in his clothes from the night before. But then Alex saw the blood on the back of his head, and the cast iron lighthouse on the floor beside him, the base sporting a spattering of blood and a small clump of hair.

Alex raced inside to the man to check for a pulse, but the second his fingers hit Brown’s neck, he knew there was no use. The man’s skin was cold to the touch, and there was no pulse that Alex could find.

He turned to tell Michelle that they were too late, but she was already gone.

Alex pulled the door shut, and then locked it with the master key Harry had given him to all of the cottages. He knew enough from past experience that the police would want the crime scene isolated, and there was nothing anyone could do for Brown anymore. As he turned from the door, Michelle was dragging her husband toward the cottage he’d just locked up.

As Jackson rubbed his eyes, he asked, “What’s this nonsense Michelle is saying about finding a body?”

“It’s not nonsense,” Alex said. “It appears that one of our guests is dead.”

Jackson shook his head, as though he didn’t believe it. “Are you certain about that? You’re not a doctor too, are you?”

“Someone hit him with an iron lighthouse,” Alex explained. “The body’s cold. There’s nothing we can do.” Alex pulled his cell phone out—something he’d been reluctant to buy, but had quickly become attached to—and dialed 911. When he held the phone to his ear, he got nothing, not even a buzzing sound.

His telephone was dead.

“Try your phone,” Alex said. “I can’t get through on mine.”

Jackson pulled his cell from his pocket, checked it, and then said, “I can’t pick a signal up either. It must have been the storm.”

“Maybe the land line will work,” Alex said as he hurried back to the main quarters. Once he got there, he picked up the telephone, but as he’d feared, it was dead as well.

“So, we’re trapped here,” Jackson said.

Michelle swatted him lightly as she replied, “Don’t be so negative, Jackson.”

“I’m afraid he’s right,” Alex said. “The road is closed, and we don’t have any way to call out. It looks like we’re stuck until we’re rescued.”

“This is horrible,” Michelle said. “What are we going to do?”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Jackson said. He must have smelled the biscuits Elise had been baking. “Is that food baking?”

“How can you think about eating at a time like this?” Michelle asked.

“There’s nothing we can do for the man now,” Jackson said. “We still have to eat.”

“He’s right,” Alex agreed. “I’ll go see when breakfast will be ready.” He knew his guests ate eggs, since they’d taken the egg salad sandwiches Elise had made the day before.

He walked into the kitchen to find Elise cooking a batch of scrambled eggs on the gas cooktop. She looked so natural there, so happy, and he was about to ruin it.

She smiled at him and said, “There you are. I thought you forgot all about me.” Elise must have noticed his expression then. “Alex? What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, but I just found a body.”

Elise dropped her spatula. “Oh, no. Was it washed up on the beach?”

“No, it was in one of our cottages. I’m sorry to tell you this, but Mr. Brown is dead.”

Elise shook her head. “I can’t believe it. How did it happen? He looked so healthy yesterday.”

Alex grabbed a clean spatula and stirred the eggs before they could burn. He wasn’t sure how much food they had on hand, or when they’d be able to get fresh supplies with the road closed.

Elise tried to take the spatula from him. “Let me do that. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” she said.

“There’s one more thing,” Alex said. “Someone hit Brown over the head with one of the cast iron lighthouses. It had to be murder.”

Elise faltered for just a moment before catching herself. “Did you call the police?”

“I tried, but the circuits are down or something. I can’t get any reception here, and the landline doesn’t work, either.”

“Let me try mine,” she said as she handed him the spatula and left the room. He knew that Elise was shaken by the news of a guest’s murder, but she was staying strong, something he knew that he could count on. When the rest of the world was falling down around him, Alex understood that Elise would be a rock for him, and he hoped that she could count on him as well.

She came back a minute later holding her cell phone. “It’s dead. I let the Bennings sit down in the dining room. You need to serve them.”

“They can wait,” Alex said as he pulled the pan of eggs off the burner and wrapped Elise up in his arms. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Just keep holding me,” she answered.

Elise seemed to fit perfectly within his arms, as though the two of them together made one complete person. He held her close and gently stroked her hair, and as he did, he could feel her tensions start to loosen.

After a full minute, he asked softly, “Hey, are you okay?”

She looked up at him, gave him a quick kiss, and then said, “I’m not yet, but I will be. Thanks. I needed that.”

As she pulled away, he said, “No more than I did.”

“Poor Alex. Dead bodies seem to follow you around, don’t they?”

“More than I’d like,” he said. Alex glanced at the pan. “No special orders today. It’s scrambled eggs, biscuits, coffee, and juice. We do have coffee, don’t we?”

“That’s one thing we don’t have to worry about. Our counterparts appear to be big fans of the stuff. And don’t worry, there’s juice in the fridge, too.”

“How about lunch?”

“We’ll deal with that later,” Elise said. “Now go.”

Alex took the pot of coffee and a basket of hot biscuits and walked into the dining room. The Morrisons were in deep conversation with the Bennings, and they all looked expectantly at Alex when he joined them.

“What’s going on, Alex?” Elizabeth asked.

“I’m afraid Mr. Brown has been murdered,” he said simply.

“I told you,” Jackson Benning said.

She chose to ignore him. “Are you sure of that?”

Alex wanted to say that if he was wrong, it was the oddest suicide he’d ever seen in his life, but this was no time for sarcasm. “Trust me, I’m sure.”

“Have a lot of experience with dead bodies, do you?” Greg Morrison asked.

“More than I like to admit,” Alex said.

That put an added chill in the air.

“Well, I’m not staying here another minute,” Elizabeth declared. “Come on, we’re leaving,” she said as she stood and turned to her brothers.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Alex said.

“Do you think you can stop us?” Elizabeth asked pointedly.

“It’s not me. The road is gone.”

“I told you that, Elizabeth,” John said.

She dismissed him with one withering look, and then turned back to Alex. “I don’t like this, sir. Not one little bit.”

“Don’t think for one second that I do,” Alex said. “For now, we’re just going to have to make the best of it until help arrives. Can I get you all coffee?”

“Three,” Greg said as he sat at the table beside the Bennings. “And some of those biscuits in your hand would be nice.”

“Here you go. Scrambled eggs are on the menu, and there’s juice if anyone wants it. I’ll be right back.”

He returned to the kitchen, grabbed another basket of biscuits, and had to fight the temptation to have one himself. The innkeeper in him wouldn’t allow it though. His guests came first.

After Alex delivered eggs and biscuits to everyone and refilled their coffee cups, he returned to the kitchen.

Elise asked, “Have you seen Dutch this morning?”

“No, I just figured he was sleeping in since he was sick.”

Elise grabbed his arm. “Alex, what if there was more than one victim last night?”

That thought had never occurred to him. “I’ll go check on him.”

“Should you get one of the men to go with you?” Elise asked.

“No, I don’t want to get them any more agitated than they already are. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“Come back to me,” she said as she kissed him hard and long. “Don’t take any chances.”

“I’ll be careful,” Alex said, and then walked out the back door so he wouldn’t have to go back into the dining room and explain where he was headed.

His hand shook a little as he knocked on Dutch’s door, and when there was no immediate reply, he felt a little queasiness in the pit of his stomach. After another knock, he tried the door handle.

It was locked.

Taking his master key out again, Alex unlocked the door.

Dutch was on the bed, much as Mr. Brown had been.

But thankfully, from the snores that were coming from him, the caretaker was alive and well.

“What did you find?” Elise asked as he neared the kitchen. She was standing outside on the small landing waiting on him. “I should have gone with you.”

“Don’t worry, he’s fine.”

“Are you sure of that?”

He was snoring away when I left him,” Alex said.

“Did you wake him and tell him what happened?”

Alex shook his head. “I didn’t see any point. What can he do at this point? The road’s out, and we don’t have phone service or power. Why add to his worries, along with being sick?”

Elise looked at the sky. The dark clouds had won their earlier battle, and the sun was gone again. The flatness of the land and the stark contrast of the dunes all made the place looked as though it was on another world. “I don’t like this, Alex. It looks as though another storm is coming.”

“If it does, there’s nothing we can do about it. There’s a murderer here, and we’re all trapped together in the same snare.”

He hugged her. “Don’t worry, we’ll be all right,” he said.

“Just don’t leave me,” Elise answered.

“Never,” Alex replied, trying his best to put on a brave smile for her.

They walked back inside together, and Elise pulled two plates out of the oven. “You must be starving.”

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” Alex protested.

“I didn’t mind,” she said. “Shall we eat here, or join our guests?”

“I’d rather have you all to myself, but it might be better if we eat out there.”

“Agreed,” Elise said as she grabbed the plates.

There were more questions when they walked into the dining room, but Alex and Elise managed to eat anyway. What it all boiled down to was that there was no way to get away from the lighthouse inn. They would just have to wait until they were rescued by the outside world.

Alex just hoped that happened before the killer struck again.

Chapter 5

“We need to get out of here,” Jackson Benning told Alex as soon as the innkeeper finished his breakfast.

“I’m sorry, but you had to see the same thing that I did; the road’s closed.”

“You don’t understand. We can’t stay.” The man was standing so close to Alex he could feel his breath on his cheek.

“What can I do?” Alex asked. “The only way anyone’s leaving here is on foot.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Jackson said. “Surely if we walk the beach we’ll find our way into town.”

“It’s seven miles away,” Alex replied, “and there’s no guarantee that things will be better there even if you make it. Besides, the police are going to want to talk to you. Do you think running away is going to look good to them?”

Jackson looked as though he wanted to hit Alex. “Why would they want to speak with us? We didn’t do anything.”

“Then don’t you think you should stay?”

Alex hadn’t seen Michelle approach, and he didn’t even realize she was there until she spoke. “He’s right, Jackson. We can’t leave.”

“And I’m telling you, we’re not staying,” he repeated, as if his comments were on some odd kind of loop.

“I wish things were different, she answered softly, “but we don’t have any choice.”

Alex was surprised when the woman’s husband acquiesced. It appeared to be the first argument Michelle had won in a very long time.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure it won’t be that long,” Alex said. “They’re bound to dig us out of here soon.”

Jackson didn’t look as though he believed that. “And in the meantime? There’s a killer loose here, you realize that, don’t you?”

“Trust me, I know,” Alex said. “Just be careful, stay around as many people as you can, and watch your back.”

“That’s good advice, but we’re at the edge of nowhere in the cottage you put us in.”

Per your request, Alex wanted to add, but didn’t. “We can take care of that. Why don’t you move into the main quarters? You can have my room, and I’ll sleep on the couch.” It was a hardship, but he’d do it for his guests if it made them feel any safer.

“We couldn’t ask you to do that,” Michelle said.

“Oh yes we could,” Jackson interrupted. He’d given in once today, and Alex doubted he’d be willing to bend again. It was clear by Michelle’s expression that she realized it as well.

“Thank you for your kindness,” she said.

“Give me half an hour to clean your room, and then you can move in,” Alex replied.

Michelle nodded, and Jackson headed back to their cottage to pack their things. He turned and said, “Alex, if you don’t hear from us in ten minutes, come looking.”

“Jackson, it will take us longer than that to pack,” Michelle said.

“Not the way I’m planning to do it,” he answered.

Alex hurried back inside and found Elise waiting for him. “What’s going on?”

“I’m giving my room to the Bennings,” he said. “They don’t feel safe out there on the edge of the property, so I’ve volunteered to sleep on the couch.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll give my room to the Morrisons,” she said.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“You are,” Elise said. “Why shouldn’t I? We’re a team, remember?” He recognized that stubborn look on her face. Alex had known her long enough to realize it would be foolish to fight it.

“Okay,” he said, caving in. “You take the couch, and I’ll sleep on one of the cots. We have several of those on hand, so if the Morrisons want to share your room, two of them will have to be on cots.”

“Care to guess who gets the bed?” Elise asked with a smile.

“If it’s not Elizabeth, I don’t have a clue.”

“Need help packing your things and cleaning your room?” she asked.

“If I’m going to be out of it in ten minutes I do. Do you mind lending me a hand?”

“No, after we do your room, we’ll clean mine,” Elise answered.

Alex asked, “What if the Morrisons want to stay where they are?”

He was answered by Elizabeth Morrison storming into the building. “We demand a room inside as well. I’ve spoken with the other guests, and they tell me that you’re giving up their lodging. I hate to be stuffy about it, but we expect the same courtesy.”

“Are you saying that you don’t mind sharing a room with your brothers?” Alex asked. “I’d hate to ask you to endure that kind of hardship.”

“There’s no need to worry about us. We can manage just fine,” she said.

“Give us twenty minutes, and it’s yours,” Elise said.

It was clear Elizabeth had been expecting a fight. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself, a condition Alex doubted she’d experienced much in her life. “Why don’t you go pack in the meantime, and tell your brothers to do the same? We’ll have two cots set up in the room and have it cleaned as soon as we can.”

“We won’t wait over an hour,” she said.

“It should be half that, if we can get busy right now,” Elise said sweetly.

Elizabeth got the hint. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Working together, they soon had both rooms cleaned and their belongings packed away. It always amazed him how the most mundane tasks were more enjoyable when Elise was by his side. “We can store our bags in the hall closet for now,” Alex said.

“I’m amazed we were able to fit two cots in that room. They’re going to be bumping into each other all day in there.”

“Thankfully, that’s their problem, not ours,” Alex said. “Do you want the couch tonight, or one of the cots?”

“Neither one look all that comfortable. We’ll flip for it later, how does that sound?”

“Fine by me. It appears that we’re going to have our very own slumber party.”

Elise nodded. “Not my idea of a working vacation, but we’ll manage. Alex, are you worried about a killer being amongst us? What if they strike again?”

He frowned. “I’m hoping that whoever killed Brown had their own reasons to do it. If we’re lucky, the killing is over.”

“But what if it’s not?” Elise asked, the fear clear in her voice.

“I don’t like it, but what can we do? Walking that beach could be treacherous, and if we all stay together, maybe nothing else will happen.” He had a sudden thought. “What about Dutch? Where are we going to put him? He can’t just stay in that cottage of his, isolated from the rest of us.”

She shrugged. “I guess he just volunteered to be our chaperone tonight.”

Alex laughed wryly. “I’ll go tell him the good news. It’s time he woke up, anyway.”

“What if he’s still sick?”

“Elise, to be honest with you, I don’t think there’s anything much wrong with him. Once he finds out what happened, my guess is that he won’t be able to wait to join us.”

Alex started for the door, and was surprised to find Elise on his heels. “You don’t have to come with me, you know.”

“I don’t have to. I want to. From now on, we’re on the buddy system. Hi, buddy.”

“Hi,” he said, and gave her a quick kiss. “If I have to have a buddy, I’m glad it’s you.”

She squeezed his hand. “Me, too.”

They walked outside toward Dutch’s cottage, and Elise looked around. “This is the first time I’ve been out here. That must have been some storm.”

“According to our handyman, it’s not all that unusual to have these this time of year. Funny, Harry never mentioned it.”

“Did you tell him about the black bears that were spotted near Hatteras West last month?”

Alex smiled a little. “It may have slipped my mind.”

“There you go. I don’t think either one of you wanted to jinx this lighthouse swap.”

“You’re probably right.”

They got to Dutch’s cottage, and after Alex knocked three times, there were no response.

Elise looked worried, but he tried to reassure her. “Don’t worry, he didn’t wake up before, either. I had to use my master key to check on him.”

“Open the door, Alex. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Alex did as Elise asked, and a tight knot formed in his gut as he opened the door. He wasn’t at all sure what he would find there, but he had a hunch he wouldn’t like it.

It was a relief seeing the bed empty, but when Alex approached the small bathroom, it was empty as well.

Apparently their handyman had felt good enough to leave his cottage.

The question remained, where had he gone?

An hour later, the handyman himself walked into the main quarters, his pants and shoes covered in wet sand. The entire roster of their guests were there, trying to pretend that they didn’t suspect each other of murder.

“Where have you been?” Alex asked. “We were worried about you.”

“No need to be,” Dutch said as he ran a hand through his long hair. “I wanted to see if we could walk out of here along the beach. I’ve got a feeling no one relishes the thought of staying here tonight, and that includes me.”

“Can we make it out?” Jackson asked.

“No chance,” Dutch said. “The dunes are washed out about a mile from here, and there’s no way around them, unless you’re prepared for a very rough swim. The waves are as big as I’ve seen them in ten years.”

“What about in the other direction?” Elizabeth Morrison asked.

Dutch shook his head. “You could walk it, but there’s nothing there until you hit the big bridge, and that’s a dozen miles away, assuming there aren’t any more wash outs along the way. No, I’m afraid we’re stuck here until the plows come and open the road.”

“When might that be?” Elise asked.

“It might be today,” he said, and Alex saw several smiles, but then Dutch added, “But I sincerely doubt it. We’ll be lucky if they get to us by tomorrow.”

“And if we’re not lucky?” John Morrison asked.

“Three days, max. In the meantime, I suggest you folks do your best to enjoy your stay.”

“That’s kind of hard to do, what with the body and all,” Jackson Benning said.

“Body? What body?” It was pretty clear this was news to Dutch, and Alex realized that he hadn’t heard the news yet.

“One of our guests died sometime last night,” Alex said simply.

Elizabeth coughed. “That’s hardly the proper way of describing it, Alex. You make it sound like it was from natural causes.”

“It wasn’t?” Dutch asked, clearly still having trouble wrapping his head around the concept.

“Someone used one of the small cast-iron lighthouses on him,” Elizabeth said. “Or so I’ve heard. I haven’t seen the body myself. No one but Alex has.”

“Are you sure he’s dead?” Dutch asked.

“No doubt about it,” Alex volunteered. “He was cold to the touch.”

Alex expected that to be accepted, but he was in for a rude surprise. “So you say. I want to see him for myself,” Elizabeth said.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Alex replied.

“Why not? My sister has a point,” John answered.

“We all have a right to see him,” Jackson added.

Alex was about to have a riot on his hands if he didn’t do something, and fast. “People, I’m sure the police won’t appreciate us messing up their crime scene.”

“Maybe not, but they’re not here, are they?” Dutch said.

“You’re actually with them on this?” Alex asked.

“If it’s murder, we all have a right to see it for ourselves,” Dutch said stubbornly.

“It might be my right, but if it’s all the same to you all, I believe that I’ll pass on the opportunity,” Michelle said.

“I won’t,” her husband replied. “Come on, Alex. Either you let us in with the key, or we’ll break the door down. You don’t have a right to keep this from us.”

Alex was about to protest further when Elise touched his arm lightly. “Alex, can I speak with you a second?”

It was a reprieve, at least for the moment. “I’ll be right back,” he told them as he and Elise walked out onto the porch.

“Alex, you need to let them see for themselves, or they’re going to break that door down. Did you hear the panic in those voices?”

“Elise, you know as well as I do that we could contaminate the crime scene if I open that door, and a killer could go free because of what I did. I’m not sure I can have that on my conscience.”

“Alex, that’s one thing I love about you, but you sensed the mood in there just as much as I did. If you don’t let them in, things could get ugly, and fast. At least this way you get to control the situation. Isn’t that better than nothing?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Alex said. He could see Elise’s point, but he still thought it was a bad idea. He was about to tell her that when the entire contingency of their guests came outside. “What’s it going to be, Alex? Are you letting us in, or are we going to force our way in ourselves?” Jackson asked.

“I’ll unlock the door,” Alex agreed.

“That’s more like it,” Elizabeth said.

Jackson started to walk with them when he noticed that Michelle wasn’t coming. “Let’s go. I’m not leaving you here by yourself.”

“She can stay with me,” Elise answered. “I’ve got to throw some sandwiches together for lunch, and I could use an extra set of hands.”

“I’m afraid I won’t be much help,” Michelle said. “I was never really very good around the kitchen.”

“Then I’ll be glad for the company. You can sit on a stool and we can have a nice long chat.”

She nodded, and Jackson just shrugged. “Suit yourself, Michelle. Let’s go, Winston.”

Alex reluctantly stepped out in front of the crowd and made his way to Brown’s cottage. It was pretty clear that Elise had been right.

If he didn’t give in, they’d do what they wanted to anyway.

Alex felt his hands tremble a little as he started to put the key into the lock of the cottage door. Before he turned it, though, he looked back at his guests. “No one touches anything. Is that understood?”

“Just open the door,” Jackson said. It was clear that he would make no such promise.

Alex knew he was fighting a losing battle. He unlocked the door and pulled it open. For a fleeting moment, he was afraid that the body was gone, but it was exactly as he’d left it that morning, an event that seemed like years before.

Greg Morrison, upon seeing the body, immediately pivoted and ran toward the beach. He made it a dozen steps before he fell to his knees and began to vomit in the sand.

Elizabeth looked at her brother with distaste. “He always was the weak one among us.” She turned back to the body, and then said, “We can’t see his face. Turn him over.”

“What?” Alex asked incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I haven’t seen his face,” Elizabeth explained. “He managed to hide it last night even as he was fleeing the dining room. John, did you get a clear look at him?”

“No,” her brother admitted.

She turned to Jackson Benning. “And you?”

“No, I never saw him.”

“Then we must get a look at him,” Elizabeth said. “If you’re squeamish, I’ll do it myself. I was a mortician’s assistant for two years. I’m not afraid to handle a dead body.”

He wasn’t sure what to make of that. “I still say that we shouldn’t touch him.”

“Nonsense,” Elizabeth said as she stepped past Alex before he could react.

“Don’t,” Alex commanded, an order that was quickly ignored.

She flipped him over, and then looked down at the body. Alex wasn’t certain what reaction he was expecting, but the slight nod she gave wasn’t even on the list. “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Do you know him?”

She frowned, and then shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not.”

Alex was about to ask the other three men standing there when he spotted the drained expression on Jackson Benning’s face.

“You recognize him, don’t you?”

Jackson nodded once. “I sure do. That’s the man who’s been following us.”

Chapter 6

“Following you? What do you mean?” Alex asked.

“He’s been tailing us for three days. At first I thought it was just a coincidence, but now I’m not so sure. What could he possibly want with us?”

“Maybe we should ask Michelle,” Alex suggested.

Jackson shook his head as he frowned. “I’m not making her look at a dead body.”

“No problem. I’ll take a picture of him with my phone,” John said as he took out his cell phone. He took a quick snapshot, and then said, “At least it’s good for something, even if we can’t call out on it. We can show her this, and that way she doesn’t have to see the body itself.”

“But that still doesn’t answer who he is, or was, actually,” Elizabeth said. “We should search his pockets and see if we can find anything there.”

“That’s way over the line,” Alex said, feeling the situation slipping faster and faster through his fingers like dry sand.

“I don’t think it’s inappropriate at all,” Elizabeth said as she patted him down. “Odd. There’s nothing here.”

She looked at the dresser, and then quickly opened the drawers. The only thing she found was a single car key, and the cottage’s key on its lighthouse chain.

“He has no wallet, no ID, and no cash. How did he pay you?” she asked Alex.

“Cash,” Alex admitted.

“And you didn’t ask for identification?” Jackson asked.

That sounded too much like an accusation for Alex’s taste. “No, cash still works here.”

“Maybe there’s something in his car,” John suggested.

“Let’s go see,” Elizabeth said, clearly done with the body. As she stepped away, Alex noticed that she slipped something into her pocket.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw that,” Alex insisted. “You took something and put it in your pocket.”

“I did not!” she protested. “I don’t appreciate you calling me a thief!”

John bristled. “My sister is many things, but she doesn’t steal.”

Alex wasn’t about to back down, though. “I don’t care what you say. I saw it.”

“You’re imagining things,” Elizabeth said. She reached into her pockets and pulled the lining out, showing that there was nothing there.

“Satisfied?”

“How about your hands? You could have easily palmed whatever you took.”

“This is ridiculous,” Elizabeth said.

She tried to bully her way out of it, but Alex wouldn’t budge.

“I want to see your hands,” he repeated, wondering if the next thing he was going to feel was a blow from behind.

Elizabeth appeared to consider pushing past him, but finally, she sighed and opened her hands. There was a pack of matches there.

“Satisfied? I promised my brothers I’d quit smoking, but stress brings the craving out in me. I have a single cigarette in my luggage, but no way to light it. I saw the matches, and I took them.”

“Elizabeth,” John said accusingly.

“Forgive me,” she said.

Alex held out a hand. “I want to see that pack myself.”

“You’ve gotten paranoid all of a sudden,” Elizabeth said.

Jackson, for a change of pace, was on Alex’s side. “What’s the harm in showing him, then? I wouldn’t mind seeing them myself.”

Elizabeth handed the pack over, and Alex flipped the cover open. There wasn’t anything obvious at first, and he was about to hand them back to her when he noticed that there was writing on the side covered by the matches. Only a handful of discarded matches revealed that anything was written there at all.

Printed in all capitals, Alex read: ‘M w/ B. M 2?’

What on earth could that mean?

Alex read the letters aloud, and Elizabeth reached for the book of matches when he finished. Alex had a hunch that if he gave the pack to her, he’d never see it again. Instead, he carefully tore the cover off, leaving the striking strip and matches intact, but keeping the penned note for himself. “There you go.”

She didn’t look happy about his action, but there was really nothing she could do about it.

As they all walked out of the cottage, Alex asked, “Are you just going to leave him like that? At least flip him back over the way we found him.”

Elizabeth shrugged, and then reached down with one hand and flipped Brown back in the position where Alex had first discovered him.

They were to the rental car when Elizabeth flipped the keys to her brother Greg, now recovered from his queasiness. “Feeling better?” she asked.

He merely nodded.”

“Good. You need to check out Brown’s car.”

“What are we looking for?” Greg asked.

“A clue would be nice.”

“To what?”

“His identity, why he was murdered, take your pick,” Jackson said.

Greg nodded as he unlocked the car. Alex had lost complete control over the group, and all he could do now was stand close and see if they found anything. Greg opened every door, so at least they could all watch as he went over the car from top to bottom.

“He’s a fanatic about automobiles,” Elizabeth explained. “If there’s anything there, Greg will find it.”

After a brief but thorough search, Greg stood and said, “There’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?” Jackson asked.

“Not even a rental agreement in the glove compartment. Somebody must have gotten to it before we did.”

“Maybe the killer cleaned it out,” Jackson said.

“Why would he steal a rental agreement?” Alex asked.

“We don’t know who Brown really is, do we? I’d say that if that was the murderer’s goal, they succeeded, wouldn’t you?”

“But how did they know we wouldn’t be able to just call the police? There have to be records kept with the car company. It can’t be that hard to find out.”

Elizabeth shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t kill Brown until after the storm, when he knew he’d be safe for the moment.”

“Or she,” Jackson added.

“Are you accusing me of something?” she asked harshly, turning on him.

“I’m just saying, we’re all suspects here.”

“Including your wife,” Elizabeth said.

“And your brothers,” he countered.

“Don’t forget the inn staff,” Elizabeth said. “Any one of them could just as easily have done it.”

Alex had heard enough of that. It wasn’t the first time he’d ever been named as a murder suspect, but that still didn’t mean he had to like it. “We’re not getting anywhere debating who might be guilty. Let’s lock the car up, take the keys into the main building, and see if Michelle has ever seen the man before.”

“I told you before, he was following us,” Jackson said.

“I’d like to hear her say that as well,” Elizabeth replied. “We all would.”

“Fine, show her the picture,” Jackson said, clearly disgusted with the idea.

They all walked into the kitchen, and Jackson said to Michelle, “You need to do this, no matter how unpleasant it is.”

“Do what?” she asked, clearly disturbed by his words.

“Don’t say another word, Jackson.” Greg showed the picture to her and asked, “Have you seen this man before?”

Michelle glanced at the image, and then looked quickly away.

“No,” she said.

Jackson’s voice was more urgent now. “Look again, Michelle. This is important.”

“I don’t want to,” she said plaintively.

“Leave her alone,” Elise said.

Alex touched her arm. “Elise, this is necessary. I’m sorry, but we wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”

She seemed to take that in, and then said, “I’ll look first, then.”

Greg pointed the telephone toward her.

Elise nodded and then said, “That’s the man who checked in as Mr. Brown.”

Michelle looked at the image again, and then a puzzled look crossed her face. “I was wrong. I have seen him before.”

“Here at the inn?” Alex asked, despite the dirty look Jackson shot her.

“No, he’s the man who’s been following us, right Jackson?”

Her husband pushed the phone away. “I told them, but they wouldn’t believe me. Sorry to put you through that.”

Michelle asked, “What’s going on? Who was he? Why was he here?”

“We’re not sure,” Jackson said.

Elizabeth added, “There was no identification on him. Anywhere.”

“That’s crazy,” Elise said. “He paid us yesterday.”

“That was in cash,” Alex reminded her.

“Don’t you remember? He took the money from his wallet. I saw him do it.”

Alex frowned. “I didn’t see that.”

“You were getting his registration form ready,” she said. “I know what I saw. It was brown leather, and it looked really old.”

“Then where is it?” Jackson asked her.

“How should I know? All I know is that he had it on him yesterday.”

Dutch said, “Hang on a second.” He dug into his pants pocket and pulled out an old wallet. “Is this it?”

Elise nodded. “Where did you get that?”

“Off the body after you killed him?” Elizabeth asked pointedly.

Dutch shook his head. “It was in the surf. I found it when I was looking for a way out of here. It was washed up on the beach, so I picked it up.”

Alex asked, “May I see it?”

Dutch nodded. “Sure. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

Alex took the wallet and felt the dampness in it. One whiff was enough to tell him that it had been in the ocean, at least for a brief time. That helped Dutch’s story, unless he’d been the one to dunk it into the waves himself. Alex hated being suspicious of everyone, but he really had no choice. There was a murderer amongst them, and he couldn’t drop his guard, not even for a second.

The first thing Alex did was open the wallet to look for bills.

It was empty.

He held it up to Dutch. “Was there any cash here when you found it?”

“What are you accusing me of, Alex? I know some people might judge me by the way I look, but I’m not a thief.”

“Take it easy,” Alex said. “I’m just trying to get some information.”

Dutch frowned. “It was empty when I found it. There’s a driver’s license and a few business cards in there, but there wasn’t any money.”

Alex nodded, but it was clear that some of the people gathered in the kitchen didn’t believe Dutch’s story, especially given the way he looked. He’d never be mistaken for a banker or a lawyer, or in fact, anyone currently holding a job. The man looked like a drifter, though he’d come highly recommended by Harry and Barbara. Until Alex knew otherwise, he wasn’t going to condemn him. Alex flipped open the section with the driver’s license, and saw that it was from North Carolina, with a Charlotte address. Brown was clearly a long way from home, nearly as far as Alex and Elise were from their lighthouse.

“What’s his name?” Jackson asked, trying to see for himself.

“Steve Danvers,” Alex replied as he read it off the license. “Does that name ring any bells to any of you?”

If it did, no one admitted it, but Greg might have flinched just a little when he heard it.

Alex took that in, and then returned his attention to the wallet. Inside it were three business cards, identical, and the name on them matched the driver’s license. “It appears that Mr. Danvers wasn’t here by accident. He was a private detective.”

Michelle looked surprised by the news, but Jackson didn’t seem nearly so shocked. The Morrisons were all hard to read, but Alex had a feeling that Greg knew the name before he’d spoken it aloud.

Alex didn’t want to ask the next obvious question, but he really had no choice. “Could there be a reason Danvers has been following both of you?” he asked Jackson and Michelle.

She might have said something, but Jackson spoke before she could. “There’s no reason that we know of.”

Elise asked, “Michelle, is that true?”

She wouldn’t make eye contact; she just shook her head.

“How about you?” he asked, looking at the Morrison clan now.

“Our lives are open books,” Elizabeth said. “We had no reason to come into contact with him before we came here.”

“Dutch?” Alex asked.

The handyman just laughed. “My net worth is just over forty-seven dollars. It’s in a shoe box under my bed. I’ve got nothing that’s valuable to anyone else.” He paused, and then looked hard at first Alex, and then Elise. “No offense, but how about you two? I don’t know you any more than you know me, and I can’t exactly call Harry and ask him about you. Have you two done anything that might merit the attention of a PI? You two aren’t married, at least to each other. How about to someone else, though?”

Alex was about to protest when he saw Michelle’s face go pale. “Elise and I aren’t married, to each other or anyone else.” He turned to Michelle. “Can you say the same thing?”

“I’m not really married to Malcolm anymore, at least not in my heart,” she said. “Jackson and I are married in spirit, and that’s all that counts.”

“You just had to tell them, didn’t you?” Jackson shouted at her.

“Keep your voice down,” Elise commanded. “Michelle, are you separated from your husband, at least?”

“Of course I am. We’ve been apart nearly a year. As a matter of fact, the divorce will be final in two days. I can’t believe it takes a year in North Carolina before a divorce becomes official.”

Alex thought about that, and then asked, “Is there any money involved in the settlement?”

“How did you know?” Michelle asked.

Elizabeth answered for him. “It’s a lucky guess. How much are we talking about here?”

“That’s not why we’re together,” Jackson insisted, raising his voice again. “We’re in love.”

“So then, you’re saying that the money’s not a factor.” Elizabeth looked as though she didn’t believe him.

“Of course not,” he snapped.

“Is it over a hundred thousand, or under?” John asked.

Before Jackson could stop her, Michelle admitted, “Oh, it’s a lot more than that.”

John nodded. “And I’m willing to bet that if your husband could prove you were having an affair, you’d get a lot less.”

“I’ve already been warned about that. That’s why we’ve been so careful,” Michelle said.

“Apparently not careful enough,” Dutch said, chiming in when it really wasn’t needed.

Elizabeth frowned. “It’s simple, then. One of them did it. They didn’t want to lose the money from the settlement, and when the PI showed up, they knew they had to do something to stop him from reporting back before the divorce becomes final.”

Jackson snapped, “I don’t like your tone or the implication of what you’re saying, lady.”

John moved in close to him. “Watch yourself.”

Jackson backed up a step. “She’s the one who’d better be careful. I don’t like being accused of murder.”

“But you’re fine with adultery.”

“A year is insane,” Jackson snapped. “It’s too long to wait for true love.”

“Some might argue that’s not true, but while that might be up for debate, the money is a tangible fact,” Elizabeth said.

“I’m done talking about it,” Jackson said. “Come on, Michelle. We’re getting out of here.”

“There’s no way out,” Michelle said. “You heard what Dutch said.”

“He could be lying, or he could be wrong. Either way, I’m not hanging around here. Are you coming with me?”

She was about to answer when Elise said, “You don’t have to, you know. You can stay here with us.”

“Can you keep me safe?” Michelle asked.

Elise couldn’t meet her eyes, and Alex couldn’t promise Michelle anything. He wasn’t even certain he’d be able to keep he and Elise alive.

“That’s what I thought,” Michelle said. “I’ll take my chances with Jackson.”

There was nothing Alex could do to stop them. After all, they weren’t his captives, and he had no authority to make them stay. All he had was reason on his side.

“Think about how this will look to the police when they get here,” Alex said. “Do you really want that spotlight on you by running away?”

“We’re not running,” Jackson said. “We all know about the PI now, so staying here doesn’t help us at all. The only way we’ll be safe is by getting away from this inn.”

Jackson opened the back door, and Alex realized that the rain and wind had picked up again. It appeared that they were in for another round of storms. He wouldn’t want to take the hike that Jackson and Michelle were about to, but then again, it wasn’t his decision.

“Good luck, then,” he said.

Elise asked him, “Alex, you have to stop them.”

“I can’t, unless we lock them up in one of the cottages.”

Elizabeth said, “That’s not a bad idea. We can’t just let a killer go free. They might never be found again.”

Alex looked steadily at her. “We still can’t be sure one of them is the murderer.”

She looked surprised by the comment. “What possible motive would any of us have to kill the man? He wasn’t following any of us.”

“There are more motives to kill than that,” Alex said.

“Such as?” John asked.

“There are a great many reasons people kill, from protecting someone, or a secret, to revenge, to wanting something someone else has. The list goes on and on.”

“We don’t have any of those motives,” Elizabeth said, “and I won’t allow you to accuse us of things we didn’t do. Come on, boys, let’s go to our room.”

After they were gone, Dutch asked, “Any chance I could get a bite to eat? I’m starving.”

Alex was going to tell him no, that he’d lost his opportunity to eat, but Elise was too kind hearted for that. “We’re having sandwiches for lunch, but I could heat up a couple of biscuits and some coffee for you in the meantime, if you’d like. It won’t take a minute.”

“Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”

As Elise put the pan of leftover biscuits back in the oven to reheat, Dutch said, “Listen, I didn’t mean anything by what I said before. I don’t think you killed anybody.”

“Thanks,” Alex said.

It was clear that Dutch was waiting for something else. When Alex didn’t respond in kind, Dutch asked, “Does that mean you think I might have done it myself?”

Alex just shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, everyone but Elise and I are suspects in my mind. We all had the opportunity, and the means was right there in his room.”

“But motive’s a little trickier, isn’t it? I’ve read enough mysteries to know that not many folks kill for no reason at all.”

“There might be something there for everyone as well; we just don’t know what it is yet.”

“You don’t trust anybody, do you?”

“I’d put my life in Elise’s hands, and you met the other person I trust with everything I have; he just left yesterday. Mor is my best friend after Elise, and I’d stake my life on either one of them.”

“It must be nice to have that,” Dutch said.

Alex realized that the handyman must not have had many friends. He was about to say something when Elise presented him with two warmed biscuits and jelly, along with a cup of coffee.

Dutch took it all gratefully from her and said, “If you don’t mind, I’ll have this out on the porch. I want to see what this storm’s doing.”

“You need to grab a few things so you can come stay with us here,” Alex said.

Dutch shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m fine right where I am.”

“Dutch, it isn’t safe being alone.”

He seemed to chew that over. “I’ll think about it. Now, do you care if I go?”

“Don’t silly. We don’t mind at all,” Elise answered.

After they were alone, Elise moved quickly into his arms. “Would you mind holding me again, Alex?”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. As he put his arms around her, Alex felt her shiver against him. She was shaken by the murder, and what they’d learned since, more than she’d shown. Only when they were alone did Elise trust herself to let it out. She cried, for just a moment, but quickly stopped it. As she pulled away, Elise used her hand to wipe away her tears. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong with being human.”

“I just wish there was something we could do. Alex, I hate feeling so helpless.”

“I do, too, but we’re just going to have to ride this out.” He looked out the window and saw the rain was picking up, coming down in sheets now. There was no way Jackson and Michelle were going to make it anywhere. He just hoped they found their way back to the inn.

Then again, maybe getting rid of two suspects wasn’t a bad idea after all.

Chapter 7

Twenty minutes later, just before they were going to serve lunch, there was a pounding on the kitchen door.

Alex held it open, and Michelle and Jackson stumbled in, soaking wet. Elise grabbed a handful of towels from the closet and handed them to the soaked pair.

“Have any luck?” Alex asked, not able to resist the jab.

“We didn’t go far,” Jackson admitted. “It’s getting brutal out there. The wind is whipping the sand up, and it kept getting in our eyes.”

“At least you left your bags,” Elise said. “Your spare clothes will be dry.” They’d abandoned their luggage, so they had that going for them.

“I’m afraid the water heater is electric, so the shower is going to be cold,” Elise said.

“We’ll take it,” Michelle said. “I’m so sorry we ran off like that.”

“No worries,” Elise said. “I’m glad you’re back, and safe.”

Michelle took another step into the kitchen, and then realized that she was dripping all over the floor. “We’ll come back and clean that up.” She looked immediately at Jackson, who was obviously about to protest. “Right, Jackson?” she asked.

“Right,” he answered grumpily.

After the pair walked through the dining room and into the lobby, Alex grabbed a mop. Elise smiled at him as he started working on the floor. “You have a good heart, you know that, don’t you?”

“I just don’t want to see the floors ruined,” he answered.

“Alex Winston, that heart pine will last longer than any of us will. Admit it. You’re just a big softie.”

“Fine, believe whatever you want to believe,” he said with a grin as he mopped the floor. As he started to disappear out of the dining room, Elise asked, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to follow their trail,” Alex replied.

“I’ll go with you,” she answered, and Alex nodded.

“That’s what the buddy system is all about. Is lunch ready?”

“It will be as soon as we serve it. I’m afraid there are going to be some grumbles. In order to have a decent dinner tonight, lunch is going to be bare minimum, and that means peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

“I have a feeling you won’t get any complaints from them,” Alex said.

“Wanna bet?” she asked.

“No chance,” Alex answered with a smile.

When they finished mopping the floors and got back into the dining room, they found the Morrisons already waiting on them.

“We’re hungry,” John said.

Elizabeth added, “But take your time. We can wait.”

She said the last bit to John, and though it was clear he wasn’t all that happy about the prospect of waiting to eat, he clearly didn’t want to cross his sister, either.

“It’ll just be a minute,” Elise assured them as she and Alex went into the kitchen.

There were a few puddles in there as well that he’d missed, but it was too late to get them now. Alex had left the mop by the door of the bedroom where Michelle and Jackson were cleaning up. As an innkeeper, he frowned on folks who shared a room without the benefit of a marriage license, but he was in no position to evict them now. He’d just have to deal with it.

After the Morrisons were served their lunches and Dutch grabbed more food and left for the porch again, Alex asked Elise, “Are you ready to eat?”

“I am if you are.”

The allotted lunch hour was nearly over when Michelle and Jackson finally joined them. They each took a plate and grabbed a sandwich apiece, along with cups of coffee. There were chips as well, and cookies for dessert, though they were store-bought. Alex knew that Elise prided herself on her cooking, but there wasn’t much she could do with the supplies she had on hand. He was sure she’d manage to feed them all somehow until someone came along and rescued them.

In the meantime, they’d just make do. Alex’s only goal now was to keep everyone alive.

He just wished he had a clue on how to go about it.

After lunch, everyone reconvened in the lobby of the main quarters. The rain was starting to really pick up again, and Alex regretted not being able to get more information about the storm. Surely there had to be some kind of weather-band radio somewhere, but Harry had failed to mention it, and Alex wished he could call his friend. It was amazing how isolated he felt without power and communication.

Elizabeth asked, “What are we all supposed to do now?”

Alex answered, “To be honest with you, I have no idea.”

“You’re an innkeeper, even if you’re not at your own inn. Surely you have some ideas.”

Alex looked around and saw the shelf housing many popular board games. “It’s a little wet outside for a nature walk,” he said.

As Elizabeth Morrison began to cloud up, Alex quickly added, “We could always pass the time playing games.”

Jackson looked at the shelf. “Should we play Clue? If you’re game, I’ve already got a guess. I think it was Elizabeth Morrison in the cottage with the lighthouse. I’m joking, of course,” he added when he saw the dirty looks all three Morrisons were giving him.

“Not funny, Mr. Benning,” Elizabeth said with a frown. “Anyone care for a game of chess?”

Both of her brothers shook their heads silently in unison, but if Jackson saw it, he chose to ignore it. “Sure, I’ll be happy to thump you.”

A gleam entered Elizabeth’s eyes. “We’ll just see about that.”

Greg and John Morrison looked at each other wearily. “Checkers?” Greg asked.

“Why not?” John replied.

That left Alex, Elise, Dutch, and Michelle. “I suppose we could play Bridge,” Michelle said.

“Never learned the game,” Dutch said. “Poker?”

“How about Hearts?” Elise suggested. “If you don’t know how to play, it’s an easy game to learn.”

“I play,” Dutch admitted.

Alex turned to Michelle. Jackson and Elizabeth were already setting up the chess board. She smiled softly. “That would be a nice distraction from all of this.”

They all played their individual games, and Alex paid more attention to his guests than he did the competitions. It seemed that Elizabeth Morrison was quite good at chess, but to everyone’s surprise, Jackson Benning might have been just a shade better. From the way the chess pieces were being slammed down on the board, Alex was glad the set didn’t belong to him. The brothers, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the simpler strategy of Checkers, and Alex wondered if they were secretly enjoying their sister’s battle. As for Hearts, Dutch showed a surprising acuity for the game, making Alex realize something he should have known anyway. It was important not to judge people by the way they looked or dressed. He had a new friend back in Elkton Falls with more money than he could dream of who dressed like a field hand most days. So then, who was the murderer? It was clear that Michelle and Jackson had motives. Holding onto a windfall of money would be motive enough for a great many people, and he doubted these two were the exception. He liked Michelle, though he wasn’t all that fond of Jackson. Still, that didn’t make either one of them innocent or guilty. As to the Morrisons, Alex suspected they knew more than they were letting on. Greg had visibly flinched when he’d seen Brown’s picture, and Elizabeth had been a little too calculating in his cottage, taking charge of the search herself and practically climbing over the body in search of clues. Then she’d hidden the one item they had found, though Alex still had no idea what it meant.

M w/ B. M 2?

What could it mean? Could the M stand for Michelle, or even Morrison? Why the 2? Was w/B with Benning? Michelle was with Benning. That fit. Then again, it could have meant Meet with Brown. Could the PI have taken the name of another subject of investigation when pressed for a name? It wouldn’t surprise him. Another thought occurred to him. What if it meant Meet with Dutch? Dutch was a nickname, and for all Alex knew, his real name could be Mortimer. Could the inn’s handyman be involved with this somehow? Dutch came and went as he pleased, and Alex wondered if he had a master key himself. That would have let him creep into the PI’s room and kill him in his sleep. But what motive could he have had?

And what about M2? There were three Morrisons, so which two made the list?

Alex realized that he didn’t have enough information yet, but if they were going to be stuck there together, he was determined to find out what had really happened to the private detective.

“Alex, it’s your turn,” Elise prompted him, bringing him out of his thoughts. “You’re really distracted this afternoon, aren’t you?”

He looked outside at the pounding rain, trying to come up with an excuse other than the truth that he could give, but Dutch supplied it for him. “It’s the weather, isn’t it?”

“It just came up all of a sudden,” Alex agreed, happy to be able to say something. “I’m surprised Harry doesn’t have a battery operated weather radio.”

Dutch looked surprised by the statement. “He does. It’s under the desk, along with some batteries. I thought you knew about it. He told me that he was putting it on his list.”

The lists Alex and Harry had exchanged covered nearly every contingency. They were volumes, more than mere notes, and Alex had forgotten all about it. He stood and walked over to the desk. Sure enough, buried under a discarded Acadia sweatshirt, was an all weather radio, along with some batteries. He loaded the radio, and then flipped it on. After a brief burst of static, they all heard a looped weather forecast from the National Weather Center.

“…storm and high tide warnings for the Outer Banks effective until six pm tomorrow. Heavy downpours at times, flooding a possibility throughout the broadcast area...”

They all stopped their games to listen through the loop twice. It appeared that there would be no rescue tomorrow, either.

Alex said as much, and Dutch corrected him, saying, “It sounds like a monster of a storm, so my guess is we’ll be here at least two more days.”

“Do we have enough food?” John Morrison asked.

Elise nodded. “It might not be fancy, but we won’t go hungry.”

“How about water?” Elizabeth asked.

Dutch took that one. “We have town water, so as long as their generator is working, we’ll be fine. It won’t be hot, though. The heater’s electric, as some of you have already found out.”

“But we had biscuits this morning, and the power was out,” Michelle said.

“Thankfully the oven and stovetop are both gas,” Elise explained.

“So, we’re in decent shape,” Greg said.

Jackson looked at him as though he’d lost his mind. “You mean besides the fact that one of us is a killer? Oh, yes, we’re all just dandy.”

“You know what I meant,” Greg said.

“We all do,” Elizabeth answered, coming to her brother’s defense. She glanced down at the chessboard and tipped her king over on its side. “Well played, Mr. Benning. You have a real knack for the game.”

Jackson seemed to take the compliment well. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re pretty clever yourself. Where did you learn to play like that?”

Elizabeth’s face pinched inward for a moment, and Alex could swear that she was about to cry. After a second, she pulled herself together, and then admitted, “Our late father taught me. He was an excellent player.”

“No doubt,” Jackson said, clearly wondering about her reaction as well.

Michelle pushed her cards into the middle of the table. It felt as though they’d been playing for hours. “Is it getting cold in here?” she asked, “or is it my imagination?”

“It’s a little chilly,” Dutch answered. “Anyone mind if I start a fire?”

“A fire would be perfect,” Alex said when no one protested. Dutch quickly had a blaze going, and the game afternoon had come to a close. Elise looked at her watch and then said, “If you’ll all excuse me, I’d better get started on dinner.”

“Need any help?” Michelle asked.

Jackson didn’t like that all. “You could burn a pot of water, Michelle. She doesn’t need your help, or your company.”

“There, you’re wrong,” Elise said. “Michelle, I’d be delighted to have you come into the kitchen with me.”

Michelle gave Jackson a superior look, and then joined Elise.

Dutch said, “If you all will excuse me, I’d better make the rounds of the cottages to make sure they’re all secure before we get a real lashing.”

“I’ll go with you,” Alex said.

“There’s no need,” Dutch said. Was he angry with Alex’s suggestion? “Harry never helps me. I can handle it myself, and there’s no use in both of us getting soaked.”

“I’m the innkeeper,” Alex said firmly as he grabbed a jacket. “Besides, we’re on the buddy system, remember?”

“Suit yourself,” Dutch answered as he got his jacket from the rack. “If we’re going, let’s get going.”

The rain was cold and stinging as it came down, and Alex began to regret his decision to help the handyman make his rounds. Then Alex thought of how he hoped Harry would treat his inn back in Elkton Falls, and he knew that he’d made the right decision. The wind was howling loud enough to make conversation difficult, so the two men walked from cottage to cottage in near silence, trying each door, making certain each window was locked and storm shutter closed.

At the far cottage where the Jackson and Michelle had spent the night, the wind died, if only momentarily. Dutch took advantage of the lull and said, “That guy Jackson’s some piece of work, isn’t he?”

“What do you mean?”

“I was working next door, and he ordered me over to fix the dresser in his cottage. He was complaining that one of the drawers was sticking, and I told him that we were beside the ocean. Wood swells, and things stick, and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.”

“How did he handle that?”

Dutch grinned at him. “I was a hair’s breath from giving him a black eye when Michelle showed up and smoothed all of the ruffled feathers. She’s way too good for him, if you ask me.”

Alex just shook his head. He wasn’t about to answer that, but it amazed him how some people seemed to bring out the worst in those around them.

As they finished their rounds, Alex was pleased when nothing appeared to be out of place. When they got to Dutch’s little cottage on the way back to the Main Quarters, Dutch said, “I’ve been thinking about what you said. I’ve decided to move in with you after all. You might as well come on in with me. I want to grab a few things for tonight.”

Alex readily agreed, eager to get out of the storm. He was pleased to see a large mat covering the scarred hardwood floor, and he stood on that as Dutch gathered a few essentials.

“You ready?” Dutch asked after he was finished.

“In a second. There’s something I want to ask you.”

The handyman grinned at him. “I was wondering why you were so insistent on tagging along. You weren’t concerned about the cottages, were you?”

“I meant what I said,” Alex answered. “But I’ve been wondering about something. Did you know Danvers before he came here yesterday?”

Dutch shook his head. “Nope, not a chance.”

“So, he’s never stayed here before?”

“That I can’t swear to one way or the other,” Dutch said. “I never see most of the guests who come here. My job is to make sure the plumbing works, that the cottages don’t fall down before the ocean swallows them up, and that the lighthouse lantern is always full of kerosene and ready to light. I don’t exactly interact with the paying customers at the inn.”

“Is there really a chance the cottages are going to be underwater someday?”

“Not just a chance,” Dutch said, “It’s a certainty. Most folks, even ones from North Carolina, don’t realize that the Outer Banks shoreline is changing all the time. Sand leaves one place and goes another, and the shore is constantly changing. Why do you think they had to move the Hatteras Lighthouse? If they hadn’t, the only way to get to it by now would have been by boat. In twenty years, this all might be gone. Not nearly as many folks care about Cape Kidd. It’s not what you’d call picturesque now, is it?”

“I love the tower, whether it’s odd red brick or not,” Alex said. “That’s part of its charm, if you ask me.”

Dutch surprised him with a smile. “I like it, too. Let me tell you something. If you’re ever stuck here in a hurricane, the lighthouse is the place to go. It’s solid and stout, and it’s the best chance you’d ever have to survive. Was there anything else, or should we rejoin our guests?”

“No, that’s it,” Alex said. He had no way to confirm or deny the truth of what Dutch had told him. The man told a plausible story, but he also could have had reasons of his own to want to see the private detective dead. Who knew what secrets might have driven Dutch to the isolation of a lesser lighthouse in a fairly inaccessible spot on the Outer Banks? He liked the man, at least when he’d been talking about the lighthouse, but folks Alex had liked in the past had still turned out to be killers. It was certainly no litmus test of innocence and guilt.

He’d have to keep his eye on the handyman.

Along with everyone else staying at the inn.

When they got to the front porch of the main quarters, Alex saw that Greg Morrison was alone on one of the rocking chairs. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“So far, so good,” Alex said, and then turned to Dutch. “Why don’t you go on in and get dry?”

“Aren’t you coming?”

“I’ll be there in a minute.” This was the perfect opportunity to talk to Greg without his sister and brother around, and Alex wasn’t about to miss the chance to interview him.

After Dutch went inside, Alex said, “It’s really coming down.”

“Not much of a vacation spot, is it?” Greg asked. “No offense, but I doubt I’ll ever want to come back here.”

“Hey, why would that offend me? It’s not my inn, remember?” Alex asked.

“Sure, that’s right. It’s easy to forget. You and Elise look pretty comfortable here.”

“What can I say? We both have an affinity for lighthouses.” He took a deep breath, and then added, “I just can’t believe someone was murdered here. It’s a shame Danvers was killed. He didn’t deserve the ending he got, if you ask me.”

Greg snorted. “You can’t know that, though, do you? He could have been a real jerk who got what was coming to him, and not merit your sympathy at all.”

Alex stared at him for a second. “You sound like you knew him.”

Greg just shook his head, clearly hoping to end that part of their conversation, but Alex wasn’t about to let up. “Greg, I saw your face when you looked at that picture. You and your family were acquainted with him, weren’t you?”

“You’re crazy,” Greg said, “and I don’t have to sit here and listen to this.” He started to get up, but Alex wouldn’t move enough to let him leave.

“Am I? How hard do you think the police are going to have to look to find a connection between the murder victim and your family?”

“Let them look,” Greg answered. “We didn’t do anything.”

“Think about this, then. You have the chance to come clean with us right now. If you don’t tell the truth, we’re all going to say that you hid it from us. Lying isn’t exactly going to get you a free pass with the police. They’re going to focus on the three of you, and the real killer might go free.”

“Why would that bother me?” Greg asked. “Now I’m telling you to move, or I’ll move you myself, Alex. I’m going inside.”

“That’s a good idea,” Alex said. “Let’s both go. I want to have a chat with your sister, anyway.”

That appeared to scare Greg more than the threat of the police. “Don’t say a word to her. I didn’t tell you anything.”

“There, you’re wrong.”

Greg tried to grab Alex’s arm, but it was too late.

He walked into the inn and said directly to Elizabeth, “You might as well confess. Your brother just told me everything.”

“You fool,” Elizabeth spat out at her brother.

“He’s lying,” Greg pled.

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed as she looked back at Alex. “Is that true?”

“I know you had a connection to Danvers. All I’m not certain of is the degree you three knew him. I told your brother, and now I’m going to say the same thing to you. If you don’t tell us how you’re mixed up in all of this, the rest of us are going to have to tell the police that you all held out on us. How do you think that’s going to look? Deny it all you want, but we saw your brother’s reaction to that picture, and you were just a little too calm when you examined the body this morning.”

Jackson said, “He’s right. You might as well tell us. After all, we told you our secret, and it can’t be much worse than that.”

“Michelle told us, to be more exact,” Elizabeth said.

Jackson waved a hand in the air. “What does it matter? We don’t have anything to hide.” He looked pointedly at her. “Do you?”

“I don’t suppose you’re going to stop pestering us until we tell you,” Elizabeth said.

John interjected. “Elizabeth, we’re under no obligation to say anything.”

“Let me handle this, John.”

He just shook his head. “Go ahead, do what you want. You’re going to, anyway.”

She nodded, took a deep breath, and then said, “You might as well grab a towel, dry off, and sit down. This might take some time to tell.”

“Let me get Elise first,” Alex said. He hurried into the kitchen as he dried his hair, and then said, “You two need to come into the lobby.”

“What happened? Did someone else die?” Michelle asked with a horrified expression on her face.

“No, the Morrisons are about to tell us their connection to Danvers, and I didn’t think you’d want to miss it.”

“Let’s go, Michelle,” Elise said, and in another thirty seconds, they were all in the lobby.

“Go on,” Alex said as soon as everyone was in place, and Elizabeth Morrison began to speak.

Chapter 8

“Our father was many things,” she began to say when John interrupted her.

“It’s none of their business,” John said. “We don’t owe them any explanations.”

Elizabeth gave him a withering look. “I’m going to tell this, whether you like it or not. Alex is right. The longer we keep this to ourselves, the worse it will look to the police. We knew Mr. Danvers, and there’s no use denying it. Now, may I continue, or would you like to excuse yourself from this discussion?”

“I’m staying,” John said softly.

“Pardon? I didn’t hear you.”

“I said I’m staying,” John repeated.

Before Elizabeth would continue, she turned to Greg. “I assume you have no problem with this, since you’re the one who brought it up.”

“I keep telling you, I didn’t say anything,” Greg insisted.

Alex shrugged. “That’s not entirely true. You said enough to get me suspicious.”

Greg hung his head low, but he didn’t try to deny it anymore. Elizabeth, to Alex’s surprise, touched her brother’s shoulder. “Greg, you have nothing to feel bad about. The more I think about it, I realize we should have done this the moment we found the body.”

Her brother looked up at her, but he still wouldn’t meet anyone else’s gaze.

Elizabeth smiled softly at him, and Greg seemed to take great comfort in it.

“As I was saying,” she continued, “we’ve known Mr. Danvers for the past seven months. He was the direct cause of our father’s death, and none of us will ever forgive him for the role he played in his tragic end.”

“What are you talking about?” Elise asked. “How did he cause it? Did he pull actually kill him?”

“No, but he may as well have put his hand on my father’s back and pushed him off that bridge in Wilmington. Father was never good with money. Let me amend that. He was good at making it; holding on to it was another thing entirely. He would never admit that he was in trouble, and if he needed help, the last thing he would have done was turn to us, though we would have been joyous to help him. You see, our grandfather could both earn and grow the money he made. He didn’t respect our father’s ability to handle his earnings, so when our grandfather died, he left his estate in three equal portions, divided between the three of us.”

“Cutting your dad out altogether,” Jackson said. “That’s some tough love.”

Elizabeth looked at him harshly. “He thought he was saving him. If father had to stand on his own, without family money to bail him out every time he lost his savings, grandfather believed it would make him a man.”

“As if he weren’t already,” John said.

“He was indeed,” Elizabeth agreed.

“You shouldn’t blame yourselves. He couldn’t have asked you for help,” Alex said.

“And why not?” Greg asked. “He knew we would give him whatever he wanted.”

“That’s just it. It was his father’s money in his mind, forever, not yours. The last thing your dad would do if he had any sense of pride whatever would be to take that money after his father was dead. It wouldn’t have been possible for him.”

“He was a proud man,” Greg said so softly Alex barely heard him.

“And that was one of his fatal flaws,” Elizabeth said.

“I don’t see where the private detective comes into it,” Michelle said.

Everyone looked at her, and then at Elizabeth. “I’m just getting to that. The last time father got in trouble, it was with someone else’s money, not ours, and not his. He ‘borrowed’ from a trust account he was supposed to be investing, and the investor began to suspect something. She hired Danvers to look into it, and he found the crime quickly enough.”

“The PI was just doing his job,” Alex said. “You can’t fault the man for that.”

“If he’d gone straight the investor, or even to the police, with his knowledge, we could have lived with it. What he did instead was approach our father, demand a payment for his silence, and then start applying more and more pressure until our father jumped off that bridge.”

“How could you possibly know all of that?” Jackson asked.

Elizabeth explained, “He left his journal, and along with it, a suicide note on the last page.”

“So you wanted Danvers’ head on a stick,” Jackson said. “It’s understandable enough.”

“And plenty of motive for the police,” Elizabeth said. “That’s why we decided to keep it quiet until we could figure things out for ourselves.”

Something occurred to Alex. “You never had reservations here, did you? You were stalking him even then, weren’t you?”

Elizabeth nodded, but then said quickly, “We had no intention of killing him. We’ve been tailing him for months, showing up every time he was working on an investigation. We planned to keep dogging his steps until he broke down and begged us for our forgiveness.”

Alex doubted a man hardened enough to be a private investigator would ever apologize, but he didn’t really know the man. “But something changed.”

“You’re darn straight it did. Someone killed him,” Jackson said.

“You look pleased by that,” Elise said sharply.

Jackson shook his head. “I’m not glad the man’s dead, but at least there are more suspects thrown into the mix than the two of us.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “We didn’t kill him. That wasn’t our plan at all.”

“Maybe you or your brothers got tired of being so passive,” Jackson said. “It could be that one of you decided to end the cat-and-mouse portion of your plan and ramp it up to full blown murder for revenge.”

“Jackson,” Michelle said reproachfully. “Don’t speak to them like that. Apologize this instant for what you said.”

Alex could see the wheels turning in Jackson’s mind, and he knew that this could be a turning point for the relationship. It was clear that Michelle was coming into money. What wasn’t clear was whether Jackson was willing to lick her boots to get his hands on some of it. After a moment or two of hesitation, he said, “I’m sorry. I’m just stressed out, I guess.”

Michelle patted his arm as though he’d just done a special trick. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I know how hard that was for you.”

“You’re welcome, my love,” Jackson answered. It wasn’t clear whether he’d done as he was told out of love or greed, but what was certain was that he was having trouble choking down his own pride in front of the crowd.

“So, we all need alibis,” Jackson said gently, careful to take any sting out of his words. Before Michelle could protest, he amended, “The police will want to know where we were last night. Michelle and I were together, so at least we’re in the clear.”

Alex coughed, and then said, “Not necessarily.”

“What do you mean?” Michelle asked.

“One of you could have slipped out in the middle of the night, or you could have done it together. It’s not pretty, but murder never is.”

“Alex, have you completely lost your mind?” Michelle asked. “I thought you liked us.”

He indeed liked Michelle, but he was willing to let the assumption that he felt the same way about Jackson slide. “How I feel has nothing to do it with it. It’s what you can prove.”

“At least I’m in the clear,” Dutch said from the hallway.

“How do you get that?” John asked.

“I’m the only one here who didn’t have a motive to kill the guy.”

“That we know of,” Jackson said, and Alex was surprised to see other heads nod in agreement as well.

“Hang on a second. Don’t try to drag me into this.”

“Sorry, that ship has sailed. We’re all suspects, including our hosts,” Elizabeth said.

Alex answered, “We can’t deny it. Neither Elise or I had any reason to kill Danvers, but proving you don’t know someone is harder than it might seem. We’re just visiting here ourselves.”

“That doesn’t exactly clear you of suspicion,” Jackson said.

Elise shrugged. “I don’t know how to convince you all that we’re innocent, or even if I should try. What I do know is that I need to make dinner.”

Michelle started to join her as she walked to the kitchen when Alex said, “You should take some time to be with your…er…Jackson.”

Before she could protest, Alex trailed Elise into the kitchen.

She looked startled to see him there. “Shouldn’t you stay in there and referee?”

“Frankly, I’d rather count the bricks in the lighthouse,” he replied. “When it all comes down to it, you’re the one I care about, and the only one I want to be with. Do you mind the company?”

She kissed him, strong and hard, and then pulled away with a smile. “What do you think?”

“I think I’m glad I followed you in here,” Alex said with a grin of his own. “What’s on tap for tonight’s meal? Any chance we can satisfy the vegetarians?”

“I found spaghetti sauce in the pantry, but no pasta, if you can believe that, ” Elise said.

“It won’t do us much good then, will it?”

Elise smiled. “Are you kidding? I’ve been dying to make homemade pasta for quite a while.”

“It sounds complicated. Have you ever made it before?”

“My mother and I used to make it together all of the time. The reason I suggested it was because I found this in the appliance pantry.” She reached under the counter and pulled out a shiny chrome contraption the size of a tissue box.

“What does that do?” Alex asked.

“You clamp it down like this,” she said as she demonstrated, securing the machine on the edge of the counter, “and you take this handle and turn it.”

“What happens when you turn it?”

“The dough is smoothed out,” she answered.

“All to the same thickness?” Alex was skeptical, but he knew better than to question Elise’s abilities in the kitchen.

“No, there’s a dial on the side, and when you get it the right thickness, you use this extension,” she said as she pulled another gizmo out, “to cut the noodles. Trust me, it will be great.”

“We could make garlic bread, too,” Alex said. “There are some loaves of French bread in the food pantry.”

“That’s your job, then,” she said.

As Alex melted some butter on the stovetop and minced a little garlic to add to it, Elise measured out flour, a little salt, and got some eggs from the refrigerator. “It’s stayed cold enough, but we’ll probably have to finish what we’ve got left before long. At least the fridge wasn’t fully provisioned.”

“There’s that,” Alex said. As he watched the sauce pan, he observed Elise as she mixed the flour and salt together, then dumped it out onto the counter. Making a pool in the flour, she cracked eggs and kept adding them until she was happy with the mixture. Taking her fork, she broke the yolks, and then started adding more and more flour to the mix from the sides. It was an amazing thing to watch. She added a few drops of tap water, and after she was satisfied with the consistency, Elise took a French rolling pin and went over the dough a few times until she had a nice thickness.

“What happens now?” Alex asked as he brushed the garlic butter on top of the diagonal wedges of bread he’d cut. After dousing each one, he placed it on a cookie sheet and put it into the oven he’d preheated.

“Now it’s time to roll out the dough.”

Alex pulled out a bench and watched her feed the dough through the steel rollers again and again. Elise folded it each time, turned it a half turn, and then ran it through again. Only when she was satisfied with the texture of the dough did she move the rollers one step closer.

By the time she hit the seventh setting, the dough was long, paper thin, and nearly translucent. Using a knife, she cut the dough in sections, and then added the cutting attachment.

“Are you sure I can’t help?” he asked.

“You can crank,” Elise said. “I’ll feed the dough and catch the noodles.”

Alex took up his position, and under Elise’s instructions, he began to turn the cutters. Thin dough went in, and strands of newly formed pasta came out.

“Is that all it takes?”

Elise had dishtowels out on the counter, and as each batch of noodles made their way through the machine, she tossed them lightly onto the cloth, along with a little flour each time to keep them from sticking together. “We don’t have a drying rack,” she explained. “Is the water boiling yet?”

She’d instructed Alex to nearly fill a large pot of water and start it boiling, which he’d done just after the garlic bread had gone into the oven.

“It’s a rolling boil,” Alex said.

Elise looked at it, salted the water lightly, and then added a little olive oil. She looked at Alex apologetically as she explained, “I’m not positive it helps keep the noodles from sticking, but Mom did it, so that’s good enough for me.”

“Don’t look at me. I’m just an observer.”

“You’re more than that,” she said. “I can handle the rest here. Why don’t you set the tables, now that we know everyone will be dining with us tonight.”

“I put out plates, glasses, and tableware before,” Alex said. “What else do we need?”

“Butter, grated parmesan cheese, and salt and pepper.”

“It sounds like a simple meal, but I’d be hard pressed to come up with anything half as elegant with twice the budget.”

Elise laughed. “During tough times as a kid, we had beans and cornbread, and then alternated it with pasta, no sauce. I didn’t even realize we were having it rough.”

“You ate better than most,” Alex agreed.

He walked out of the kitchen, and was surprised to find that two of the larger tables had been pushed together.

Elizabeth looked at him and said, “It’s ridiculous for us to keep our distance. We’re all in this together, so we might as well dine as a group. That is, if you don’t have any objections.”

“It’s fine with me,” Alex said, though what he’d really hoped for was a chance to eat alone with Elise in the kitchen. That just wasn’t going to happen now.

After he was finished, Alex came back into the kitchen and found Elise pulling the garlic bread out from the oven. “That smells wonderful,” Alex said. “Can I do that?”

She pointed to the sink. “I’ve got it. The pasta’s drained, and the sauce has been heating on the stovetop. We’re ready to eat.”

Alex took the large platter filled with bread, and then after dropping it off at the large table, he came back for the sauce while Elise grabbed the pasta.

Once they were in the dining room, Jackson looked at the fare. “Pasta? I hate pasta. Is that all you can feed us? You seriously can’t do any better than that?”

Alex was about to say something sharp when Elise answered, “If you don’t like it, and that goes for any of you, I’ll do my best to make something for you. After the rest of us eat, that is. Understood?”

There were nods around the table, and Elise put the pasta out while Alex put the sauce down.

Jackson took two forkfuls, added a lesser amount of sauce, and then took a bite. Alex watched his face as the tension eased instantly and a slight smile appeared. Jackson must have seen Alex watching him.

“It’s not terrible,” he said as he reached for the bowl.

Elizabeth wasn’t having any of that, though. “You had your turn. You can wait until we’ve had ours.”

She took a large portion, as did each of her brothers, but Elise had made more than enough for twice as many people.

By the time they were finished, there was barely enough pasta left to save.

It had been a big hit, and Alex was as proud of her as he could be. Not only had he chosen well in finding someone who complemented his abilities as an innkeeper, but he had found someone who made him happy. In the end, what more was there, really?

“What’s on tap for tonight?” Michelle asked as Alex and Elise gathered up the dirty dishes.

“More games?” Alex suggested.

“Isn’t there anything else we can do?” Greg asked.

“Why don’t you all go into the lobby and decide,” Alex said.

“What are you going to do?” Jackson asked.

“Dishes. Care to lend a hand?”

“No, I’ll leave it to the experts.”

Michelle offered, “I don’t mind helping.”

Elise smiled at her. “There’s really not all that much. Alex and I do more than this at our inn every day. We’ll be out shortly.”

Michelle nodded in agreement, but Alex thought he saw a little disappointment in her expression. Was there trouble in paradise, and was the marriage that was valid only in spirit starting to collapse under the pressure of a murder? It wouldn’t be the first relationship that suspicion had killed, he mused.

As they did dishes, Elise asked, “So tell me, Alex. Who did it?”

Alex looked at her, startled by the question. “Pardon me?”

“Come on, I know you too well to think for one moment that you haven’t been puzzling this out ever since you found the body. I want to know what you’re thinking.”

He thought about denying it, but there was no use. She knew him too well, if there was such a thing. “To be honest with you, I like Jackson Benning or Elizabeth Morrison,” he said.

“Why?” she asked as she handed him another plate to dry. They often chatted as they did dishes together, but the subjects were usually more innocuous, like first kisses and favorite songs.

“They both have strong wills and even stronger motives,” Alex said.

“And they both have a knack for getting under your skin,” Elise added.

“There’s that,” Alex said. “I suppose Michelle has more motive than Jackson to want to hide the truth of her affair, and either Morrison brother is just as capable of murder as their big sister.”

“Why do you think she’s oldest?” Elise asked.

Alex was surprised again by her question. “I don’t know. It must be because the men defer to her, and she has no problem bossing them around.”

“So, that just leaves Dutch and the two of us,” Elise said as she handed him another plate.

“Well, I know we didn’t do it,” Alex said.

“What about Dutch?”

Alex thought about it a few moments before he spoke. “How much do we really know about him, Elise? Harry told me about his presence in a letter, but that’s it. He’s a wild card, as far as I’m concerned.”

“What do you mean?”

A crazy thought struck Alex, and he dismissed it nearly as quickly as it had come, but Elise must have spotted something in his expression. “Alex, don’t hold out on me.”

Finally, he nodded his head. “Okay, this is crazy, but how do we even know he’s the real Dutch? I doubt that’s the name on the driver’s license of the real man; it’s an easy nickname to pick up. That means we can’t ID him.”

Elise nodded soberly. “And we can’t pick the phone up and ask Harry for a description. Alex, this changes everything.”

He touched her shoulder lightly. “Elise, don’t listen to me. I’m just being paranoid.”

“If it keeps us alive, it’s not being paranoid,” she said. “I’m going to keep an eye on him.”

“We’re already watching everyone else,” Alex admitted. “I don’t suppose it will hurt to keep tabs on Dutch.”

“I don’t like this, Alex,” she said as she handed him the last plate and pulled the drain from the sink basin. They’d had to heat the teakettle on the gas stovetop to get enough hot water to wash the dishes, and it had cooled now. “I’m not afraid to admit it, but I’m scared.”

Alex dried the plate, but it on the stack with the rest, and then threw the towel on the counter. “Trust me, I am, too. All we can really do is stay alert.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get to sleep tonight,” she admitted.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” Alex said. “I think it might be a good idea if we sleep in shifts.”

She nodded. “Of course, that makes perfect sense. You are worried, aren’t you?”

“You’d have to be crazy not to be,” Alex said.

“Let’s see. We run a lighthouse inn in the mountains. Don’t you think that qualifies us a little over the edge anyway?”

“You’re probably right, but it’s home.”

She nodded, and he felt his heart swell again as she said, “I can’t ever imagine being anywhere else.”

Alex looked around the kitchen. “It’s a shame there’s no more to be done in here. I’m not all that eager to spend more time with these people.”

“Maybe this will be the last night we have to,” Elise said. “Surely someone will come dig us out of the sand tomorrow.”

Alex nodded, but in his mind, he added, ‘Before it’s too late.’ It wouldn’t be good to alarm Elise even more.

But he doubted he’d sleep again until they were safely back at Hatteras West.

Chapter 9

When Alex and Elise got out into the lobby, they found the large leaf table that was against the wall now opened up and pulled into the center of the room. There were enough chairs for each of them to have a seat. While the afternoon session of games had been smaller groups, it appeared that they would all be playing together now. Outside, the wind howled, and rain splashed up against the windows. Candles were spaced around the table, illuminating the scene with a flickering glow.

“What are we playing?” Alex asked.

“Not Clue,” Michelle said.

“Okay,” Alex agreed.

Greg added, “We thought that was a little too close to home. How do you feel about Monopoly?”

“It’s fine with me. Elise?”

“I should warn you that I’m not very good, but why not?”

Jackson looked at her carefully. “You wouldn’t be sandbagging us now, would you?”

Elise shook her head. “No, but would it matter if I were? We’re not playing for real money.”

Jackson smiled. “Now, there’s an idea. What say we each put money in the pot, and the winner takes all?”

“I’m not gambling,” Elizabeth said.

“Ten dollars each,” Jackson pushed. “Even you can afford that.”

“I could afford a great deal more, but I’m not about to waste my money on the likes of you.”

Jackson shrugged. “That just shows a lack of confidence on your part. I was just trying to make it interesting.”

“Don’t you think things are interesting enough as it is?” Michelle asked.

Jackson didn’t respond to that. As Alex retrieved the Monopoly game from the shelf full of games, he asked, “Who wants to be the banker?”

“You’re the innkeeper,” Michelle said. “You should do it.”

“Fine. Elise, do you want to handle the properties?”

“I can’t think of a reason why I shouldn’t,” she answered as she took the properties from him. It was clear to Alex that Elise wasn’t thrilled by the prospect of playing with a murderer, and if he were being honest with himself, he wasn’t all that excited about it either. But in a skewed kind of way, it made sense. Keeping the killer at the table meant that no one else would die.

At least as long as the murderer was still in the game.

In two hours, Elise, Greg, John, and Michelle had all been eliminated. Alex worried that they might wander off, but each of the losing contestants had horses still in the race, and there was really nothing else to do anyway, so the crowd lingered. Dutch was in the weakest position, then Alex. The two heavyweights, Jackson and Elizabeth, were nearly equal. Jackson had more property, but Elizabeth had more cash. In short order, Dutch was eliminated, and then Alex, after he landed on Boardwalk, one of the few properties that Elizabeth owned. He stayed at the table as banker, and had a close view of the two in combat.

“You go for the throat, don’t you?” Elizabeth asked Jackson as he laughed with glee when she landed on St. James place, a property he had a hotel on.

As he recounted the money she’d paid him, he said, “Life is a game, and games are like life. If you don’t do everything in your power to win, why bother playing at all?”

Alex shot a quick look at Michelle, who was clearly startled by the man’s attitude. Alex was willing to bet that she was seeing a side of him that he’d been careful to hide so far. No matter what happened, Alex was fairly certain that the marriage might not happen at all, regardless of the outcome at the inn. He wondered how they’d ever gotten together in the first place. Love could do strange things to people, he’d seen that as much as anyone, but when the smoke cleared, what was left was how two people related to each other, and the world.

The next turn when Jackson landed on one of Elizabeth’s properties, she took the money from him with barely a smile showing on her face, and she added it to her carefully stacked rows without even counting it.

“You trust me that much?” he asked.

“It’s just a game,” she answered.

Jackson seemed offended by the remark, and he tried his best to beat her, though now it was down to who landed where, and when.

In a long hour, with the lead changing hands a few times, Jackson had the bad luck to land on three of Elizabeth’s hoteled properties, while she’d avoided his altogether.

Even Jackson could see the writing on the wall. He tipped his boot on its side as though he were playing chess and said, “I concede.”

Elizabeth offered a hand to him across the board, and for long moment, Alex wasn’t certain he was going to take it. After Greg growled in the bottom of his throat, Jackson shook her hand, and then quickly let it go.

“Come on, Michelle. Let’s go to bed,” he said.

Michelle shocked them all by saying, “No thanks. You go on. I’m going to stay up awhile.”

Jackson clearly didn’t know what to make of that mutiny, but he didn’t argue about it. Without another word, he grabbed one of the lit candles and made his way to their room.

Elizabeth stretched. “I’m afraid the day has left me quite weary as well.”

She headed for her room, and her two brothers said good night in kind.

Dutch said, “Honestly, I’m not a bit sleepy. Anyone up for another game of Hearts?”

They all agreed, and after they lowered the leaves of the table, they sat and played until well into the night. At one point, Jackson came out of his room with an angry expression on his face. “Are you coming to bed?”

“Not right now,” she said, and he slammed the door when he got back to their room.

“He’s not happy, is he?” Elise asked gently.

“He’ll get over it. Do you happen to have another cot? I think it’s cozier out here by the fire.”

Dutch stood. “I’ll go grab one.”

Alex said, “Hold on. Buddy system, remember?”

Dutch nodded reluctantly, and they went to the storage closet together and got a cot, a sheet, a blanket, and a pillow with its case.

“I’m sure she’s used to better than this,” Dutch said.

“We all are. It’s only for one night, though.”

“I hope you’re right,” Dutch said.

“Do you have any doubt they’ll dig us out by tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “Don’t pay any attention to me. I’m just a little on edge.”

“There you’re in good company.”

When they got back, the card game had been put away, and the table was back in its rightful place against the wall. “We hope you don’t mind, but it’s getting late,” Elise said.

“It’s fine,” he replied. They divided the room in two, with the men’s cots on one side, and the women’s on the other, with the fireplace between them. Michelle fell quickly to sleep, but Dutch soon got up. “I’m coated with sand. I can’t sleep like this. I need a shower.”

“The water’s freezing, remember?” Alex said.

“I don’t care. I was outside longer than you were today. Don’t worry, I won’t be long.”

After Dutch went into the bathroom, Alex asked softly, “Elise, are you asleep?”

“No, I was afraid to. I wasn’t sure which one of us was going to stand guard first.”

“I can do it,” he said. “Listen, before you go to sleep, I just wanted to apologize for getting you into this mess. I can’t believe I dragged you all the way from Hatteras West for you to risk your life here.”

“We’re a team, Alex. I’ll go wherever you go. You know that.”

“I still feel responsible.”

“Did you kill that man?” she asked softly.

“Of course I didn’t,” he replied.

“Then you have nothing to apologize for. Alex, do have a better idea now of who might have done it?”

He looked over at Michelle to see if there was a chance she was feigning sleep, but he doubted she would go so far as to snore to prove her point.

“My money’s on Jackson,” Alex said.

“Mine, too. He’s got quite a temper, doesn’t he?”

“And a killer instinct to book,” Alex agreed. “Did you see the way he looked at Michelle when she refused to go to their room? I don’t blame her for bunking out here.”

“Neither do I,” Alex said. “After what he said, I can see him killing to protect Michelle’s money. I’m willing to bet that he already thinks of it as his.”

“I’m worried for her safety, Alex.”

“We’ll keep an especially close eye on her,” he said.

The bathroom door opened, and Elise said softly, “Good night, Alex.”

“Good night.”

He pretended to be asleep when Dutch came back into the room. The man quickly settled into sleep, and soon, Alex heard heavy breathing from all three of his bunkmates. The fire was dying, so he got up to add a few more logs to it, but that turned out to be his downfall. When the room had been chilled slightly, Alex could stay awake, but the added warmth, along with the stress he was under, put him to sleep before he had a chance to wake Elise.

He was awakened the next morning by a scream, and in an instant, Alex knew that his lapse had cost someone their life.

Chapter 10

“What happened?” Elise asked as she came awake at the same time Alex did. Michelle was stirring as well, but Dutch was sitting upright on his cot.

“I have no idea. I fell asleep,” Alex admitted as he got out of his own cot. He and Dutch rushed to the sound of the scream as Elise woke Michelle. Alex was just as glad she’d stayed behind. If it was what he feared, he didn’t want her to be with him when they found another body.

The two men discovered Elizabeth Morrison kneeling beside the shower, her gown wet from touching the damp tiles, and Jackson Benning’s head cradled in her lap. Jackson was dressed in his pajamas, and the cord from a robe was knotted tightly around his neck. It wasn’t a pretty sight, and Alex was glad that Elise hadn’t come with him. Greg and John were trying to help Elizabeth up, but she was fighting them every step of the way.

“He might still be alive,” she said as she searched for a pulse. “He’s warm, see?”

Dutch surprised Alex by moving him aside. “I took a first aid class a few years ago. Let me see him.”

The handyman knelt down beside Elizabeth, checked at the neck and wrist for a pulse, and then looked back at Alex as he shook his head. “He’s gone.”

Elizabeth sobbed once, and then laid Jackson’s head back on the floor. She let her brothers help her stand, and once she was upright, Alex asked her, “What happened?”

“I came in to use the shower,” Elizabeth said. “I didn’t want to use the one in our room, because I was afraid I would wake my brothers. I’d just turned the shower on and was getting ready to get undressed when I heard an odd sound, as though the water was hitting something besides the tiles. I pulled the curtain back, and there he was.”

John stepped in and hugged his sister, with Greg patting her back. “There was nothing you could do for him,” John said.

“I didn’t care much for the man,” Elizabeth admitted, “but I can’t imagine who would hate him enough to kill him.”

“Maybe he saw something he shouldn’t have,” Greg said. “If someone was trying to protect their secret, they could kill.”

Alex had no problem imagining who might have done it. All three Morrisons had words with Jackson the past day, none harsher than Elizabeth, and Michelle had her own reasons to want to be shed of the man. Even Dutch had had an altercation with him.

Once again, there were too many suspects, and not enough clues.

“Somebody’s got to tell Michelle about this,” Alex said.

“Tell her what?” Michelle said as she looked into the bathroom. With everyone else there, there was no real room for her to come in herself.

Alex tried to block her view, but he wasn’t able to do it in time. Michelle saw the collapsed form of her boyfriend on the floor and shrieked.

“Is he dead?” she asked through her sobs.

“I’m so sorry,” Alex said as he tried to move her away from the door.

She held fast at first, but then Elise stepped in and gave him a hand with her. “Come on, Michelle. Let’s go in the other room.”

She let herself be led away, and Alex was grateful for Elise’s calming presence.

After the two women were gone, Alex looked at Dutch and the Morrisons. It was a tight fit in the bathroom with all of them there.

“We need to close off this room,” Alex said. “Let’s go.”

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” Elizabeth asked.

“What’s already been done can’t be helped,” Alex replied. “We’ve already contaminated one crime scene. I won’t let it happen again on my watch.”

He expected a fight, but Alex was pleasantly surprised when they all filed out of the bathroom. They would be cramped in the main quarters for awhile because of it, but that couldn’t be helped. This body was going to stay exactly where it was. After they left the room, Alex locked the door with his key. He had no doubt that Dutch had a copy himself, but he couldn’t worry about that.

Elizabeth turned to her brothers. “Grab what you need. We’re leaving.”

“We can’t,” John said. “You heard Dutch. The road is closed, and so is the beach. We’ll never make it.”

“That was yesterday. This is today.”

Alex fought the impulse to add, ‘and tomorrow is tomorrow’. “The police aren’t going to like it.”

“Well, I have no desire to lose a member of my family to this maniac.”

Greg asked, “What about our luggage? We can’t carry it through the sand.”

Elizabeth looked at him fiercely. “Do you have anything you can’t carry that is worth dying for?”

Greg shook his head.

Elizabeth added, “I didn’t think so.”

She turned to Alex. “You can try to stop us, but I’m warning you, you’ll have a fight on your hands.”

“I’m not going to do a thing,” he answered. If they wanted to take their chances on the roads, he couldn’t honestly blame them. “When you can’t make it through, you’re welcome back here tonight. I wouldn’t wait too long, though. It could be tough finding us in the dark, and I can’t imagine spending the night outdoors here, especially if it starts storming again.”

“If you’re trying to scare us, it isn’t going to work. We’ll take our chances,” Elizabeth said.

They all walked out into the lobby, and Elise asked, “What’s going on?”

“The Morrisons are checking out,” Alex said.

“That’s an unfortunate expression, don’t you think?” Elizabeth asked.

“Sorry. I meant to say that they are leaving the inn.”

“Then the roads are open?” Michelle asked hopefully.

“No,” Alex said firmly.

“Not that you know of, anyway,” John answered. “My sister makes a good point. It’s too dangerous staying here at the inn any longer than we have to. Michelle, you’re more than welcome to join us.”

Alex expected her to agree when she surprised him. “I don’t think it’s a good idea that any of us go,” she said firmly. “I’m staying right here. I trust Alex and Elise.”

“With your life?” John asked.

“Yes,” she replied, but Alex noticed that it lacked some of the confidence it had earlier. “Besides, Dutch is staying, too. Right?”

She turned to look at him, and the handyman answered with a smile. “There’s no place I have to be but here.”

“You’re making a mistake,” Elizabeth said.

“Not as big a one as you might be,” Michelle answered.

Elizabeth turned to Elise and said, “You know you’re welcome as well.”

“I go where Alex goes,” she said simply, and he felt his heart skip a little faster at the sound of it.

“I’m staying,” Alex replied. “This might not be my inn, but I’m responsible for it, and I won’t just abandon it, no matter what the circumstances.”

Elise nodded her approval, but John looked at them both as though they were crazy. “It’s your funeral. Strike that. It’s your decision. That’s what I meant to say.”

“Elise,” Elizabeth asked, “would it be possible to get some bottles of water before we go?”

“Sure. We’ve got plenty in the storage room,” she answered, after first waiting for Alex’s nod of agreement. They were a team, and neither one of them was afraid to consult the other if it was needed. The water was a resource, but fortunately, they had plenty to spare.

After the Morrisons took two bottles each, Elizabeth turned to Alex and said, “I’d love to say that it was fun, but I would be lying.”

“I just hope you know what you’re doing,” Alex said.

After they were gone, Dutch pulled Alex aside and asked, “Should I follow them?”

“You’re leaving too?” Alex asked.

He shook his head. “I just want to make sure they don’t double back and try to get rid of us, too. Once I’m sure they’re on their way, I’ll be back.”

Michelle looked frightened. “Do you think that’s possible they’d come back for us?”

“It could happen, and it’s easy to prevent, so why not keep an eye on them?”

Alex nodded. “If you’re sure,” he said.

“Positive. See you later.” As he headed out, he said, “I wouldn’t mind a few waters for myself. It might be a long walk.”

Elise got them for him, and Dutch left.

Five minutes later, Michelle said, “Something just occurred to me.”

“What’s that?” Elise asked.

“What if Dutch is the killer? Could we have just given our blessing for him to hunt the Morrisons down and pick them off, one at a time?”

“But he had no beef with Danvers,” Alex said.

“That we know of,” Michelle said.

Elise asked, “Would you two mind moving this into the kitchen? I thought I’d get an early start on lunch.”

“Do you think we’ll be here that long?” Michelle asked. “I’m spooked staying here another night, if you know what I mean.”

Alex said, “I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the police are here by dusk. I heartily doubt that we’ll have to spend another night at the inn.”

The relief on her face was clear. The strain of the last few days was wearing on her, replacing her once-ready smile with a constant worried frown.

Elise must have noticed it, too. “Come on, Michelle.”

As their guest followed her, Elise turned back to Alex. “Coming?”

“It’s a little chilly in here,” he said. “I might get a fire started while you two work on lunch.”

“Excellent idea. We’ll keep the doors propped open so we can hear you, and then we can have a picnic out here in front of the fire.”

After the women were gone, Alex started laying the fire and thinking about the folks who’d just left. It was true that the Morrisons had a beef with Danvers, but what could have caused them to kill Jackson? Had he seen one of them do something incriminating, like leaving the man’s cottage after the murder? The three of them had barely left each other’s company since they’d arrived, so it was unlikely that one of them could commit murder without the other two knowing about it. Loving family was one thing; conspiring to cover up two murders was something else altogether. Elizabeth Morrison was strong, there was no doubt that, but just how forceful a grip did she have on her brother’s lives? He could understand Greg going along with her on just about anything, but John had shown real spirit from the beginning. Alex couldn’t see him hanging for his sister, no matter how much he loved her.

Then what about Dutch? Could he have killed both men? Alex wasn’t sure why, but he had a feeling in his gut that the man was exactly what he seemed to be, no matter what he and Elise had discussed. In Alex’s paranoia, he had wondered aloud if Dutch was really Harry and Barbara’s handyman, but he knew that chances were good that the man was exactly as he seemed. After all, he’d known about the radio, hadn’t he?

That left Michelle. She was so passive that it was difficult to imagine her in the role of murderer, no matter how hard he tried. Still, he couldn’t rule her out.

The more Alex thought about it, the more likely each of his suspects became in turn. He was certain he could talk himself into believing that any of the folks around them had committed the murders.

And then another thought struck him. What if the two murders weren’t tied together? Could there have been two separate killers loose at the lighthouse? He knew that the odds were good that just one person was a killer, but that didn’t mean it was impossible.

It brought up a new, and entirely unwelcome, train of thought, and he was still considering it when Elise came in.

“Alex, is something wrong? I thought you were going to start a fire.”

He looked up to find Elise staring at him. Alex shrugged. “Sorry about that.”

“What’s going on?” Elise asked.

“Just thinking about what a mess we’re in,” he answered.

She rubbed his shoulder lightly. “Why don’t you start the fire and we’ll have that picnic I promised? Come on, it will be nice.”

He wasn’t sure how good it could be, but Alex didn’t want to do anything to extinguish the hope in Elise’s eyes.

“That sounds great,” he answered as he lit the match he’d been holding in his hand.

The firewood was dry, and the fire leapt into quick flames. He rubbed his hands together in front of it and asked, “Where’s Michelle?”

“She wanted to help, so I let her make the sandwiches.” Elise frowned as she added, “I’m a little afraid for the Morrisons and Dutch. What if they don’t make it?”

“They can always come back here,” Alex said. “And if they do get out, they can send help. I’ll feel a lot better once this is all over.”

“I will, too. Once we get back to Hatteras West, I don’t think I ever want to leave it again.”

“That sounds good to me.”

Michelle brought out a tray stacked with sandwiches, more than the three of them could ever eat. Her gaze shifted to the back bathroom where Jackson’s body remained, but Alex watched as she forced down the emotion and did her best to put on a happy face. “Sorry, I got carried away. Could someone grab the sweet tea and glasses?”

Elise started to when Alex said, “I’ll do it. You enjoy the fire.”

Alex got the other tray, and the three of them ate in front of the fire.

After they were finished, Michelle asked, “What’s next?”

“We’ve got cleaning to do,” Elise said.

Odd. Alex had no intention of working as an innkeeper while things were so uncertain, but she was right. As soon as they were out of there, they wouldn’t be back, and it wouldn’t be fair to leave more work than they had to for Harry and Barbara on their return.

“Can I help?” Michelle asked.

Alex was about to agree when Elise said, “You mentioned walking along the beach while we were in the kitchen. Maybe you can find some pretty shells. After the storms we’ve been having, I bet they are everywhere.”

“Oh, that sounds nice,” she said as her gaze shifted to the back again. It was clear what she wanted most in the world was to get away from the body of her former boyfriend. “Thank you for the suggestion. Can I at least help clean up here?”

“You made lunch. We’ll do it,” Elise said.

As soon as Michelle was gone, Alex asked, “What was that all about?”

“I know she means well, but Michelle has been underfoot all morning, and she’s driving me a little crazy. She loves seashells, so why shouldn’t she get a little vacation out of this? Besides, it’s not like she has to worry about a killer stalking her.”

“If they didn’t backtrack,” Alex said.

“Dutch is watching out for that, remember?”

He nodded. “I know, but what if that story was a ruse of his so we’d drop our guard? Dutch may have had no intention of following the Morrisons, and he could be out there somewhere waiting to pounce. Forget it. I’m being too paranoid.”

“Or just the right amount,” Elise said. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“We have to stop her before she’s in danger.”

Fortunately, Michelle hadn’t gone far. The pounding of the surf was so loud it obscured their voices when they called out to her, and as Alex and Elise approached her, she looked up at them, so startled he half expected her to bolt straight into the ocean to get away from them.

“It’s just us,” Alex said as he and Elise hurried up to her.

“You were right, Elise. The shells are magnificent. I thought you two were going to clean the inn.”

Alex lied, “We were, but searching for shells sounded like more fun.”

Michelle wasn’t buying that, though. “You were worried about me, weren’t you? Go on, admit it.”

“Maybe just a little,” Elise said.

“As much as I appreciate your concern, I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. Go back and do your work. I’ll be fine.”

“We don’t mind, really,” Elise said.

Michelle frowned. “I don’t know how to put this delicately, but I’d really like a little time to myself. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is,” Alex said as he took Elise’s hand in his. “Take your time. We’ll see you back at the inn.”

As they walked back to the lighthouse, Elise said, “She needs time from me? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Alex laughed. “It’s hard to imagine, isn’t it? I for one can’t get enough of you.”

She smiled. “I know, I should be thankful for every moment we get. Come on, let’s clean some rooms.”

“You know all the right things to say,” he answered.

For obvious reasons, they skipped the Danvers’ cottage and Dutch’s, but that still left plenty of work to do. “Should we split up?” Elise asked. “We can get more work done quicker that way. These cottages are so small, we’ll keep bumping into each other if we try to clean them at the same time.”

“I’m willing to risk it,” Alex said. “I don’t want to separate.”

“I don’t, either. Which cottage should we tackle first?”

“The Morrisons,” Alex said. “We can pack their bags and keep them at the front desk until they come back for them.”

They had changed the sheets and were making the bed in Elizabeth Morrison’s room when Alex stepped on something. He leaned over and picked it up from the floor, and Elise asked, “What is it?”

“A small bullet,” Alex answered. “Elise, it looks as though she’s armed.”

Chapter 11

“She has a gun?” Elise asked, nearly losing her composure. “Why didn’t she tell us about it?”

“Maybe she was afraid that it might look bad for her if we knew,” Alex admitted.

“What should we do?”

“First thing, we search this place from top to bottom and make sure it’s still not here,” Alex said.

After a brief but thorough hunt, they knew the gun was gone. Alex knew, based on the size of the ammunition, that it was a small caliber weapon.

“We should warn Dutch,” Elise said as she dropped the old sheets in the corner. They’d brought fresh linens and put them on the dresser for later.

“How? I have no idea what direction they took, and there’s no way we’d ever catch them. They’ve had too big a head start.”

“You’re right,” Elise said. “Why didn’t she bring the gun out after we found the first body? She could have used it to protect us, and poor Jackson might not be dead.”

“The question is, who would she be protecting us from? Herself, or one of her brothers? I doubt she’d be on our side, if one of them is the murderer.”

Elise frowned. “One victim was struck from behind, while the other was choked, again, probably from behind. No bullets were used, but we do have a sneaky killer.”

“Someone both victims trusted,” Alex said.

“And didn’t consider a threat,” Elise amended.

“So, everyone’s on the list again. I’ll be honest with you; I wouldn’t mind having a way to protect ourselves, even if Michelle is the only one around.” Alex glanced around, and then added, “That we know of.”

Elise shook her head. “Maybe it’s better that we’re not armed. It wouldn’t do to start shooting at shadows. Let’s finish these rooms. We can talk while we work.”

“Don’t we always?” Alex asked. He put the bullet in his pocket and kept an eye open for any clues that might pop out at them. No one knew guests better than the people who cleaned their rooms, and Alex had learned more than he’d care to admit during his tenure as the innkeeper at Hatteras West.

There were no more surprises in Elizabeth’s cottage, though.

John and Greg’s cottages were both lacking in any clues, and they added nothing to the information Alex and Elise had amassed so far.

Alex then headed for the cottage Michelle and Jackson had shared, but Elise put a hand on his arm. “We shouldn’t go in there.”

“Why not? Their things are gone, and Jackson’s body is back at the inn.”

“I don’t want to have to tell the police we were snooping,” Elise admitted. “What if they call Sheriff Armstrong back home to check up on us? Can you imagine what he’d say if they ask him about us?”

Alex shook his head. “Nothing too pleasant, I’m sure. So then, we’re finished, aren’t we?”

“For now. Let’s clean the kitchen, and then we can figure out what we should have for dinner.”

“I was honestly hoping we’d be gone by then,” Alex admitted.

Elise shrugged. “I’m guessing we’re going to have to spend one more night here. I’d better see what I can make for dinner. Michelle isn’t going to like being trapped here another night.”

“She’ll have to get in line,” Alex said. “It’s pretty clear that we’re not particularly thrilled about it, either.”

They found Michelle waiting on them on the front porch, as though she were afraid to go in by herself. The last few days had been quite a strain on her, and Alex could see a haggard expression in her eyes.

“We’re not getting out of here tonight, are we?” Michelle asked as she looked around at the growing shadows.

“I don’t think so,” Alex said.

“Did the Morrisons make it out? Why hasn’t Dutch come back?”

“I wish I knew,” Alex said.

“I just want this all to be over,” Michelle said.

Alex knew he had to do something to lift her spirits a little. “Tell you what. Why don’t you help Elise in the kitchen, and I’ll get that fire stoked up again.”

“Okay. That sounds good,” Michelle said, though it was clear she’d rather be anyplace else in the world than there.

“Come on,” Elise said. “Let’s go see what we can make.”

After they were gone, Alex started collecting more wood from the covered front porch. As he did so, he realized that he needed to rethink everything he’d learned so far about the murders. The first, and most important item, was the clue they’d gotten from Danvers’ room.

M w/ B. M 2?

It could have meant many things, but there wasn’t a D there, so he thought that without more evidence, Dutch most likely wasn’t the killer. His true first name might start with an M, but wouldn’t the detective put ‘Dutch’, since that was how the man was known, regardless of his given name?

M w/ B.

The first part most likely meant Michelle with Benning. It wasn’t unusual to use a woman’s first name and a man’s last while making a quick note. If Danvers had indeed been trailing the pair, it would make sense that his note would be a reference to them.

But what about M2? Could that somehow represent the Morrisons? There were three of them, not two, so it just didn’t fit.

And then Alex really tried to take a fresh look at the last guest still at their inn.

M2? could be the PI’s speculation that Michelle might be hiding more than it initially appeared. M2 could mean that he thought Michelle could be capable of her own acts of evil. Could Alex and Elise be stranded at the inn with the real killer after all?

The more he considered it, the more Alex realized that it started to make sense. Michelle had the best motive there was to stop Danvers and kill Jackson. The PI could have kept her from the money she was going to get in the divorce settlement, and her supposed boyfriend had shown a side of greed and cold hearted behavior that she may never have seen before. He could have easily done his best to take her money, most likely through blackmail. Then why hadn’t Alex seen it before? It was one of his true blind spots. He wanted to believe the best in people, and Michelle had presented a sympathetic front to them. No, it was more than that. She’d portrayed herself as a passive victim more than a killer since she’d arrived at the inn, nearly always deferring to those around her.

Except when it mattered to her.

Could it be true? There was just one way to find out. If Alex didn’t solve this before the police arrived, she might never be caught.

Chapter 11

There was only one way to find out. As dusk began to approach, Alex knew that he had to lay a trap for Michelle, and if she took the bait, he’d know that his musings were right. If she didn’t, then most likely one of the Morrisons had murdered both men.

It was time for Alex to manufacture a little evidence of his own and see what happened. He took an old piece of paper that Harry used in his files, scribbled something illegible in pencil on it, and then smeared it with his finger to make it even more unrecognizable.

When he walked into the kitchen, he held the paper up to show Elise and Michelle. “I just found something in Jackson’s pocket,” he said excitedly.

Elise put down the knife she was using to chop vegetables. “Why were you examining his body alone, Alex?”

“I had to know if there was anything we missed,” he said.

Elise seemed to take that in. “What did you find?”

He hated not including her in his ruse, but there had been no way to get her away from Michelle, so he really didn’t have any choice. He would apologize later. Right now, he needed her to be convincing in her belief.

“This must have fallen down beside his bed, and nobody ever really searched his room,” Alex said.

“What does it say?” Michelle asked.

Elise put the knife in her hand down on the counter. “Forget that for a second. Alex, you shouldn’t have gone in there without us.”

“It was the only way,” he said. “I wanted a chance to look around by myself, and I’m glad I did. What if the killer found this and destroyed it before we saw it? If that happened, there wouldn’t be any evidence left.” As he spoke the last words, he looked straight at Michelle.

“You never answered my question,” Michelle said. “Haven’t you read it yet?”

“I can’t make out all of it,” he said, “but what I’ve read so far appears to be about you. Danvers’ name is mentioned, too.”

She frowned. “It’s natural that Jackson would write me a note about the detective. Perhaps he had a thought on who might have killed the man. I’m sure you’ve misunderstood what he wrote. Let me see it. I can read his sloppy handwriting. I’ll interpret it for you.”

When Alex balked at the suggestion, she repeated, “Let me have it, Alex.”

He knew if he handed it over, his game, and any chance he had of proving that she was a double murderer, would be over.

“I think I’ll hold onto it for now,” Alex said. “I’m willing to bet that the police will be interested in seeing it.”

Michelle looked as though she were going to cry, and Elise’s natural reaction was to offer her comfort.

It might have been her last mistake though, as Michelle grabbed the knife and held it against Elise’s throat. It happened so quickly that Elise could do nothing but gasp as the steel edge nicked her neck.

“I’m going to ask you one last time, Alex. Give me the note.”

Gone was the soft, vulnerable usual tone in her voice, replaced by a wicked, cold delivery. Alex could see this woman as a murderer. He just hoped he hadn’t erred so badly that Elise would have to pay for his failure to judge the woman correctly in time.

If Alex could buy a little time, maybe he could find an opening to save Elise. One thing he was certain of; if Michelle read that faked clue, they would both be dead. At that point, he doubted that a few more murders would matter to Michelle one way or another. “You killed Danvers to keep him from reporting your behavior to your soon-to-be-ex husband, but why kill Jackson? Was he going to blackmail you for a cut of the money after you tried to dump him?”

“Have you been listening in on my conversations?” she asked with a snarl. “It’s either that, or you’re very good at guessing.”

“I kept playing things over in my mind, and there was only one connection between Jackson and Danvers that made sense, and that was you.”

“The Morrisons had reasons of their own to want the PI dead,” she said.

“Maybe so, but Jackson was another case altogether,” Alex answered. He tried to reassure Elise with his gaze, but the look of terror in her eyes was unmistakable. He had to do something, and quickly, if she was going to have the slimmest chance of surviving the attack.

“Come on,” Michelle said with a laugh. “Jackson had a way of agitating people by his very nature. He could have pushed any of them until they snapped.”

Alex shook his head. “It doesn’t wash, and the police will see that, too. You have one choice. You can try to get away, and Elise and I won’t stop you. Who knows? If you get a big enough head start, you might just escape.”

“The roads are closed, remember?” she said, not bothering to deny his accusations any more.

“You can take my truck. You could probably get through,” Alex said, though he doubted it would get far in the sand.

Michelle shook her head, and Alex saw the knife-blade draw blood from Elise’s neck. “Nice try, but you’re not in any position to dictate my behavior. What is it with you men? Do you think of all women as helpless little creatures you need to order around, or worse yet, protect? That was the trouble with Bartholomew. My unfortunate husband thought he could save me, the poor thing, and when he finally realized that he couldn’t, he tried to throw me away. I didn’t go cheaply, though. With his divorce settlement, I won’t have to worry about money ever again.”

“He wasn’t smart enough to get a pre-nup?” Alex asked.

She laughed. “The fool was in love, and I decided to make him pay for it. Danvers was going to blow that, so he had to go. He didn’t even suspect that I’d come after him, can you believe that?”

“No, I don’t,” Alex said. “I think that’s what the match book was all about. He wrote a note that you were with Benning, but that he had to watch you, too. That’s what the M2? Entry meant; I’d bet my life on it.”

“You may not realize it, but you already have.” She shrugged. “Keep your note. I’ll take it off your dead body later. Jackson must have seen me leaving Danvers’ cottage. He told me he was going to get half my money, but I never gave him a chance to tell me how. It was amazing how easy it was to twist that sash until he couldn’t breathe. He fought hard, but it was no use. I was too strong for him.”

“Okay, you win,” Alex said, knowing this was his chance. “Here’s the note.”

He started to hand it to Michelle. If he could get her to drop her guard for a second, he’d throw himself onto the knife if it meant giving Elise a chance of getting away.

She wasn’t going to do it, though. “Throw it on the cooktop.”

He did as he was told, and as Michelle turned the burner on, he saw her grip ease ever so slightly. Alex reacted, not even thinking about what he had to do. He threw himself at her, grabbing at her hand with the knife. She instinctively lunged at him, and he felt the blade go deep into his shoulder.

“Run,” he yelled at Elise, but she wasn’t about to desert him. She grabbed for a nearby pan and swung it at Michelle’s head.

It glanced off, and Michelle picked a cast iron skillet from the rack above the island. Alex pulled the knife out of his shoulder, and cried out in pain as he did so. Elise looked at him for an instant, but it was too late. The skillet connected with her skull, and she went down in a heap on the floor.

Alex was on the ground beside her, and the blood was seeping from his shoulder wound. Michelle considered them for a moment. She was reaching for the knife to finish them off when Alex heard something banging from the lobby.

“Give up,” he croaked. “The police are here.”

“You’d better pray it’s true, but it’s probably nothing. One of the shutters probably came loose again.” She stared hard at him. “If there’s a chance your girlfriend is still alive, you’ll keep your mouth shut, or she’s dead when I get back.”

Alex nodded numbly.

The second Michelle was out of the kitchen, he crawled to Elise, holding one hand over his shoulder wound.

“Elise? Can you hear me?”

She didn’t move, and Alex thought he was going to die.

As he cried silently, Alex saw her stir.

“Alex?” she asked softly.

He touched her face lightly. “Can you stand up?”

“I think so,” she said as she pulled herself up. “My hair must have softened the blow. You’re hurt,” she added as she stared at his shoulder.

“It’s all right,” Alex said. “Help me up.”

“You shouldn’t move,” Elise said, her words slurring a bit. How hard a hit had she really taken?

“If we don’t go right this second, we’re dead.”

He managed to stand, though he was in great pain. Grabbing a dish towel, he pressed it against the wound in his shoulder. The pain ratcheted up another level, but he managed to take it.

“Where can we go?” Elise asked. “She’ll find us.”

“If she does, she does, but Elise, if we’re going to die, we’ll do it fighting. We need to get to the top of the lighthouse.”

A plan was forming in his mind. They were in no position to ambush Michelle given their injuries. Between Alex’s deep shoulder wound and Elise’s probable concussion, flight was the only option they had.

As Alex led her out the back door, Elise asked, “Why are we going up there?”

“It’s our only chance.”

Elise nodded. “If we have to die, I’d rather it be there.”

“Don’t give up yet,” Alex said. “I have an idea.”

“I hope it’s a good one,” she said, and they stumbled out together into the growing night.

After they were inside the lighthouse, Alex told Elise to lock the door.

“Do you really think that’s going to stop her?” she asked him.

“It might slow her down, and that could be all we need.”

As they started to climb the first steps together, there was a pounding at the door.

“I know you’re in there,” Michelle screamed. “Let me in.”

“No,” Alex shouted. It was clear that the police weren’t coming to their rescue. He was losing blood despite the compress, and Elise was disoriented from the blow. Things looked bad for the two of them.

“Can you make it up to the top of the stairs?” Alex asked her.

“Can you?”

“With your help,” he answered with a grin. Outside, there was a more regular pounding now, and Alex figured Michelle was using the axe to break her way in. As he and Elise stumbled up the stairs, he said, “At least this lighthouse isn’t as tall as ours.”

“I’d never make up Hatteras West,” Elise said.

When they finally got to the top, Elise looked around in vain. “What good did this do us, Alex?”

“We have to light the beacon lantern,” he said as he fumbled with the matches on a shelf beside the lantern.

“What good is that going to do? It won’t stop her.”

“No, but it will tell everyone where we are,” he said, and then added with a weak smile, “besides, our neighbor threatened to call the police if we lit it again. Can you think of any better reason?” After the matches slipped out of his hand again, he said, “I’m sorry. You’ll have to do it.”

Elise retrieved them, and then lit the mantle of the lantern. After she hung it in place, she moved back to Alex, who had slumped down against the brick side.

“Hang in there,” she said.

“Elise, there’s something you should know,” he said, and then he began to choke. Had Michelle hit something more vital than muscle when she’d stabbed him? How much longer did he have?

“Alex, save it for later. We’ll get out of this.”

“I don’t think so. Not this time. I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too,” she answered as she began to cry.

As he slumped down, Alex said, “I was going to ask you to marry me.”

They both were crying now as he asked, “What would you have said?”

“I would have said yes,” she answered. “I don’t want it to end like this.”

“I’m beside you, in a lighthouse, with a lit beacon,” Alex rasped out the words. “There are worse ways to go.”

“You’re not getting off the hook that easily,” Elise said. “You made a promise to me, and I’m going to see that you follow through with it.”

“There’s nothing left that we can do,” Alex said.

Elise kissed him, quickly but firmly. “My head’s starting to clear. We’re not finished yet.”

That’s when they both heard the door below them crash open.

A few seconds later, they heard Michelle run up the stairs toward them.

Chapter 12

Elise stood quickly, and Alex watched her as she took the lantern from its hook. “How will they know we’re here if you take the light out of the prism?” he asked, his voice getting weaker and weaker.

“It’s time for Plan B,” she said.

“I didn’t know we had one of those,” Alex said softly, but he wasn’t at all sure she’d heard him.

As Michelle neared the top landing, she called out, “It was just the wind. No one’s going to rescue you. I was going to kill you both quickly as a favor, but that’s out now. You’re going to pay for making me chase you down like dogs.”

As she neared the top step, Alex saw that Elise was pulling the lantern back to strike out at Michelle. The only problem was that she’d be able to see it coming.

He had to do something.

Screaming out in pain, Alex lunged for Michelle. She still had the fire ax in her hands, but his action startled her so much that she must have forgotten what she was holding. In the second she lost her focus, Elise brought the lit lantern down on her head. She struck Michelle with such force that the glass base holding the kerosene broke, and Michelle caught fire.

With his last gasp of breath, Alex pushed her backward, sending her tumbling down the steps, lighting the way as she fell. Each step in its turn lit from the spilled kerosene, and Alex knew that they had just a few minutes before the fire consumed them all.

That’s when he heard the shouting from below them.

On the ground, a wave of men came in at the base of the lighthouse. Alex leaned over the edge and saw them beating at the flames on Michelle, trying to stop the fire. The stairs were easier to extinguish, since they’d gotten less fuel than the killer had. They were easily extinguished with a blanket, and the last thing that Alex remembered was looking up at Elise and saying, “I’m sorry.”

And then the world went black.

Chapter 13

Alex awoke in a hospital room, but he didn’t see the cream-colored walls, the tiled ceiling, or the bed he was in.

All he saw was Elise.

He tried to talk, but he couldn’t manage more than a grunt.

Elise looked at him, tears in her eyes, and she smiled so brightly he thought his heart would explode. “Sore,” he managed to say as she delicately hugged him. “Need water.”

She gave him a sip, then another, and his throat felt instantly better.

The next thing he asked was, “Are you okay?”

“Fortunately my head’s thicker than Michelle counted on,” Elise said.

“Did she make it?” Alex asked.

“She’s in the burn ward,” was all that Elise would say.

He could see that she was distressed by what she’d been forced to do.

“You saved us.”

She shook her head. “You took a knife that was meant for me, and then you distracted her long enough for me to hit her with that lantern.”

“We saved each other, then.”

“I can live with that,” Elise said. She touched his healthy shoulder and said, “You’ll be okay soon. She didn’t do as much damage as they first thought, and as soon as you got a transfusion, your vital signs perked right up.” Elise brushed a bit of hair out of eyes and said, “It looks like you’re going to have to live up to your end of the bargain after all.”

“Bargain?” he asked, his head still swirling from what had happened.

Elise looked shattered by his reaction. Why was she acting that way? Then it all came flooding back to him. “We’re getting married,” he finally managed to say with a smile.

“If you still want to,” she answered softly.

“Try to stop me,” Alex replied, and without thinking, she started to hug him. He pulled back from the pain, and she looked at him lovingly. “Sorry. I wasn’t sure you’d still want to marry me. Alex, I won’t hold you to it. You proposed when you thought we were both going to die. It’s not fair to make you marry me.”

“No one can make me. I want it more than you know.”

“Not as much as I do. You know, it’s amazing what Michelle was willing to do just for money. I hope it never has a hold on me that way.”

Alex smiled at her. “You’re marrying an innkeeper. Being rich won’t ever be a problem for you, Elise.”

She kissed him again, and then said, “We’re rich, Alex, in every way that counts but a bank balance or a stock portfolio.”

He was about to reply when they both heard a familiar bellowing voice coming from the hallway. “He isn’t my brother by birth, but he’s still my family. Now, if you don’t move out of the way, I’m going to move you.”

“He means it,” another familiar voice said.

“It’s Mor and Emma,” Alex said with a smile.

Elise nodded. “I figured they’d be here soon. I called them as soon as you went into surgery. Now, I’d better go let them in before Mor breaks the door down.”

“I can’t wait to tell him the good news,” Alex said.

“Too late,” Elise answered with a laugh. “It was the first thing out of my mouth.”

As Elise went out to clear the way for their friends, Alex let his mind drift away. It had taken a crisis to bring them the last step together, and Alex knew that nothing short of the end of the world would ever keep them apart again.

Afterword

It all began with a lighthouse on the coast. I’ve long been a fan of the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse, and when I turned from writing short stories to novels, I knew that I wanted to have a lighthouse at the center of the story. But having a lighthouse wasn’t enough. In my research of occupations, I came across an article in a magazine that said the number one fear of innkeepers was dealing with the dead body of a guest. My first thought was, cool! How perfect. So I decided to create a lighthouse inn on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, not far from the real Cape Hatteras Lighthouse. I made time to take three days to visit the Outer Banks, and while there, I took careful notes and photos of the lighthouse, the main and duel keeper’s quarters, and the surrounding land, dunes, developments, and the ever present nearby ocean.

I was ready to write my book, or so I thought. And then I stopped in at a local diner, a hole in the wall where the locals met and ate. I like local color, not a place that isn’t tied to the land and the people around it.

And I found that I barely understood the folks who surrounded me. We were all from North Carolina, but it was almost as though we spoke different languages. Their idioms, mannerisms, and even their ways of thinking were different from mine, and in a sudden burst of sadness, I realized that I couldn’t write the book I wanted to write. After all, the characters of a novel are a huge part of the story for me, and I couldn’t depict these folks I didn’t know realistically. I was a product of the mountains, not the sea.

That was it! I could put the lighthouse in the mountains! And why not? This was a work of fiction, after all.

But there had to be a reason for that lighthouse to be there, not just the capricious whim of the writer.

And that’s where I was stuck.

As I rode the ferry back toward the mainland, I gave myself the ride home, about seven hours, to figure out not just why a lighthouse could be in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, but why it had to be there.

I turned off the car radio, rolled down my windows, and drove.

I was five hours into the drive, and I’d come up with—and discarded—dozens of ideas.

And then it hit me. I knew. Pulling over to the side of the road, I jotted the idea down on a Wendy’s napkin so I wouldn’t lose it, and the rest of the way home, I started creating Hatteras West, my very own lighthouse in the mountains. The book flowed fast and furious, and I even put Bear Rocks, one of my favorite spots in the Dolly Sods Wilderness Area in West Virginia, beside the lighthouse as well. Why not surround myself with the things I loved?

I eagerly told my agent about the completed book, and she agreed to read it immediately. Less than three days after she received it, I got a telephone call.

She loved the book, but hated the lighthouse.

I was crestfallen. The lighthouse was the spine of the narrative, the hook that held everything else in place. Without the lighthouse, and what it meant to my protagonist, Alex Winston, the book was nothing. My agent’s exact words were, ‘No one will believe it, and certainly no one will buy it.’

I had a choice. Get rid of the lighthouse, or the agent.

I kept the lighthouse.

At that point, I chose an editor based on an old recommendation someone had once made and submitted the novel over the transom and into the slush pile.

Then I tried my best to forget about it and started working on something else.

Eighteen months later, I got a telephone call at 7:45 on a Thursday night.

“Is this Timothy Myers?”

This was before the Do Not Call lists, so it was a typical time for telemarketers to phone. I thought, “I don’t need new storm windows, I’m happy with my long distance carrier, and I have no need for vinyl siding.”

“It is,” I said.

“This is Kim at Berkley. I just read your book, and I’ve got to tell you, I found it quite charming.”

A wave of panic swept over me, not elation. I had no idea at that point what book I’d submitted to her, since I’d written and sent out several since then. As she continued to talk, I searched for a clue, any clue, about the book she found enchanting.

And finally, she said, “I just love the idea of a lighthouse in the mountains.”

I nearly wept at the news. She got it.

But that wasn’t the end of the story. After a great deal of work, and several versions of the original story, I had a three book deal. Many things changed, from start to finish, but the lighthouse remained.

I learned a great deal about crafting a novel from her, and I was an eager pupil.

SPOILER ALERT

IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THIS BOOK YET, SKIP THIS PART.

In the original end of book 1, Innkeeping with Murder (which I called MURDER AT HATTERAS WEST), Alex and Elise got married. That had to change. My editor wanted more of a Moonlighting feel where it was always a question if they’d ever get together, and I wanted them to be a couple from the beginning. She made some good points, and to be honest, I would have changed nearly anything to get that deal.

Anything but the lighthouse.

But I always knew that Alex and Elise would end up together, in love, and happy.

Then, without much warning, after five books, the series ended. The only problem was that I wasn’t ready to end it. I’d sketched out ideas for books 6 and 7, and I even alluded to some of the events in them, like the proposed lighthouse swap with Harry and Barbara on the Outer Banks. Alex and Elise were going to go to the ocean together, and in the process, they were going to find out just how much they meant to each other. In the seventh book, they were going to be married, and the circle would be complete.

At least that’s how it worked in my mind.

END OF SPOILER. FEEL FREE TO KEEP READING!

With the lighthouse inn series over, I started writing the candle books under my name, and the card shop books as Elizabeth Bright, and one deal led to another, and the lighthouse inn books faded to the back of my mind, but never left it completely. Over the years, I had hundreds of letters and emails wanting to know what happened to Alex and Elise, but I had no outlet for their stories, and not enough time to write them.

Life, and my career writing under names other than my own, took over.

And then Kindle came into my life.

I had the foresight to have the rights reverted to my out-of-print books years before, and I finally took the time to make them available again on Kindle, Nook, Apple, Smashwords, and other venues. It was a joy to reprint my tales about lighthouses, candles, soap, and cards.

And I started thinking about Alex and Elise again.

That led to me dragging out my notes, playing with the ideas, and then writing the book you’ve just read in my spare time. KEY TO MURDER is technically a novella, weighing in at around 33,000 words, but it’s an important link in the series, and it presents the motivation that moves Alex to finally say what’s been on his mind forever. I knew readers grew frustrated with Alex at times for failing to go after the woman he loved, and believe me, I shared their frustrations.

KEY has given me the chance to visit Alex and Elise a year after the last book ended. They’ve had a year together, dating and working at Hatteras West, and they have fallen in love with each other, something each of them always suspected would happen someday.

I hope to someday write book 7 in the series, one that will include a very special wedding. I’ve already got a name for it, RING FOR MURDER, and a cover prepared. If time and health allows, I hope to write it someday as well. But I’ve also been playing with sequels to the candle books with Harrison Black, the Cardmaking books with Jennifer Shane, and the Soapmaking books with Ben Perkins and his clan. With my full schedule of traditionally published novels, I don’t have a timeline in mind, but know that my past characters are never far from my mind.

I hope you’ve enjoyed your time with Alex and Elise.

I know that I have.

Table of Contents

Key to Murder (Book 6 in the Lighthouse Inn Mystery Series)