Reservations For Murder Part 2

"I don't need one, not if you're here with me."

Put that way, Sheriff Armstrong had little choice but to let Alex stay. They'd worked together often enough in the past, albeit reluctantly at times.

Alex felt strange seeing Sheriff Armstrong sitting behind his desk, Shantara across from him. There was no room for a third chair in the small s.p.a.ce, so Alex leaned against the rich, honeyed pine wall.

The sheriff pulled out a small notebook and said, "First of all, where were you last night?"

Shantara looked surprised by the question. "I was home asleep. Where were you?"

Armstrong frowned. "Now, Ms. Robinson, you won't do yourself any good by having an att.i.tude with me."

Alex said, "Sheriff, where else would you expect her to be? And why should it matter where she was last night?"

"My investigator just informed me that the time of death was most likely sometime between midnight and four a.m." The sheriff added, "Alex, I've agreed to let you sit in, but you're going to have to keep your comments and questions to yourself if you want to stay."

"Sorry," Alex said contritely. He didn't believe for one second that Shantara was guilty of murdering Jefferson Lee. She had too much to lose, even granting the wildly remote possibility that anything could push her to such a desperate act.

Armstrong nodded once, then said, "Ms. Robinson, can anyone verify that you were home last night?"

Shantara said, "Are you asking me if I'm sleeping with anybody at the moment, Sheriff?"

Armstrong bl.u.s.tered, "Now, ordinarily, that would be none of my business. I don't much care what grown, consenting folks do behind closed doors, but I'm trying to see if you've got any kind of alibi for the murder."

Shantara shook her head. "I'm sorry to say that I sleep alone these days, Sheriff."

Armstrong pushed on. "Did you make any calls or get any during those hours? Can anybody verify you were home?"

"I turned off the ringer on my phone and put the answering machine on last night. I was whipped from moving the fair yesterday at the last minute, and to be honest with you, I'd just about had my share of people for the day."

Armstrong wrote something else in his notebook, then said, "Okay, let's move on. Did you have any reason to kill Jefferson Lee?"

Alex had a tough time keeping his mouth shut. The very nature of the crime most likely cleared Shantara in his mind. He doubted she'd have the physical strength to skewer the blacksmith, even if she had motive enough to do it.

Shantara said calmly, "I knew him, but I had no reason to want him dead. Even if I were going to kill him, why would I do it at my own fair? I've got everything riding on this, Sheriff."

That was a point Alex had wondered about himself.

Armstrong said evenly, "Maybe you weren't thinking clearly. He goaded you into a rage, and you killed him. If it was self-defense, I'm sure we can work something out."

"I work out at Tracy's Gym sometimes, but I'm not that strong." Shantara turned to Alex. "You saw how he was pinned to that post. Do you think I could possibly do that?"

Remembering Armstrong's warning, Alex merely shook his head.

"Alex, I warned you-"

Shantara interrupted. "He didn't say a word, just like you told him."

Armstrong studied Alex a second, then turned back to Shantara. "Have you ever seen the metal rod that was used to kill Jefferson Lee?"

"I've seen a dozen of them, Sheriff."

"Where?" Armstrong asked as he sat up abruptly in the chair.

Shantara said reluctantly, "If I don't tell you, I'm sure somebody else will. That shaft had Bill Yadkin's swooping curlicue on the end. It's one of his. There's no doubt about it."

It was amazing how fast the sheriff wrapped up the rest of his interview with Shantara. As Armstrong hurried out the door, he said, "You're free to go for now, Ms. Robinson, but don't leave town."

After the sheriff rushed out, Shantara said wearily, "I hate sending him after Bill Yadkin, but he was bound to find out sooner or later."

"It's not your fault, Shantara." Alex had recognized the distinctive pattern on the shaft as well, but he'd refrained from telling Armstrong about it until he had a chance to talk more with the young blacksmith himself. Knowing Yadkin's gruff nature, it would be all too easy for the sheriff to take his responses as hostility, and Armstrong did not respond well to att.i.tude from anyone.

In less than two minutes, Armstrong was towing the young blacksmith into Alex's office.

"I need some privacy for this interview," Armstrong said. "You're both going to have to clear out."

Alex tried to protect Yadkin as best he could. "Do you want me to get you a lawyer?" he asked before the door could close. Alex's former girlfriend Sandra Beckett was the only lawyer in Elkton Falls he knew well enough to call, but he didn't want the young blacksmith intimidated into saying something he shouldn't.

Yadkin snapped, "I've got nothing to hide. I hated the snake, and everybody knows it."

Armstrong's eyes lit up as he pushed Alex and Shantara out of the office.

"This is not good," Shantara said plaintively. "What are we going to do?"

There was only one real choice in Alex's mind.

He had to call Sandra, whether Yadkin wanted her or not.

Sandra's secretary put him through immediately. The lawyer said, "What's up, Alex? I'm buried under a mountain of paperwork at the moment."

Alex said, "I wouldn't bother you if it weren't important. Bill Yadkin's in trouble. Sheriff Armstrong is interviewing him right now about the murder of Jefferson Lee, and I'm afraid he's going to say something he shouldn't."

Sandra s.h.i.+fted gears quickly. "I heard about the murder a few minutes ago." It always amazed Alex how fast news traveled in the small town on the kudzu vine, faster than any gossip's grapevine in the world.

Sandra asked pointedly, "Why does the sheriff think he's guilty?"

"A shaft of iron with Yadkin's trademark on it was used to kill Lee, and I just heard Yadkin tell the sheriff that he hated the man's guts."

"Don't let him say another word, Alex. I'll be out there in seven minutes."

Rachel burst into the inn as Alex was hanging up the telephone. "Where are they? I just heard the sheriff hauled Bill away."

"Take it easy, Rachel. They're in my office. I just spoke with Sandra. She's agreed to talk to your boyfriend, but he's refusing his right to a lawyer."

"We'll just see about that," Rachel said as she pounded on Alex's office door.

As the door opened, Rachel tried to push past Armstrong, but the sheriff wouldn't budge.

Nearly out of breath, Rachel said, "Sheriff, you can't talk to him without his lawyer present."

"I offered; he declined. Besides, no charges have been filed. Now, you're interrupting an official investigation here."

Rachel shouted, "Bill, don't say a word. Alex called a lawyer for you."

"I don't need a lawyer. I didn't kill him," Yadkin snapped.

Rachel said fiercely, "You idiot, that's why you need someone to protect you."

Yadkin said strongly, "I can handle this myself, Rachel. I don't need you meddling."

Instead of backing down this time, Rachel said firmly, "If you do this on your own, we're through! I mean it, Bill. You of all people should know I don't make idle threats."

Alex wondered how much effect the ultimatum would have on the young man. Finally, just as the sheriff smiled at the silence, the blacksmith said, "Okay, you win. I guess we'd better wait for this lawyer fella."

"It's a woman, and she'll be here any minute," Rachel explained, the relief thick in her voice.

Armstrong looked like he was ready to spit nails. "Alex, I want to talk to you. Now!" He pulled Alex by the arm into the lobby, away from everyone else. "Now, why did you go and do that? He was almost ready to confess!"

"Sheriff, how can you be so sure he did it? I was afraid he'd say something to you he couldn't take back."

"That's why I was pus.h.i.+ng him!"

Alex matched his tone. "And that's why I called Sandra!"

"Listen up, Alex, I'm not going to put up with you sticking your nose in this case, you hear me?" Armstrong took a deep breath, then said in an easier tone, "I'm the first one to admit you've helped me a time or two in the past, but that doesn't give you the right to interfere. Do I make myself clear?"

Alex nodded. "I hear what you're saying, but you can't expect me to stand by and just watch, can you?"

"You'd better believe it," Armstrong said. "Now, I'll thank you to stick to running your inn, and I'll handle the investigations around here."

Chapter 4.

Alex watched as the sheriff stormed back into the office. He was probably right. Investigating crime was a job for the sheriff, not for an innkeeper. But there was no way Alex could just stand around and watch the young blacksmith hang himself!

Armstrong suddenly pulled out of Alex's office with Bill Yadkin in tow.

"Out of the way, Alex," the sheriff said as he led the young blacksmith to the door.

"Where are you taking him, Sheriff Armstrong?" Rachel demanded. "You can't arrest him until his lawyer gets here."

"Tell Sandra we'll be over at the jail. I'm finis.h.i.+ng this interview downtown, where there will be less interruptions." He looked pointedly at Alex as he said the last.

Rachel blocked their way. "You're not taking him anywhere until Sandra arrives."

Armstrong said, "Rachel Seabock, I've known you most of my life, but don't you believe for one second that I won't arrest you for obstructing justice if you don't back off, and I mean right now."

Rachel was sobered by the thought of going to jail, but she wasn't about to give up. "I'm going with you then," she said resolutely.

"You can follow me into town, but you can't have a ride. I'm sorry, Rachel, but it has to be that way."

She pointedly ignored the sheriff and said, "Bill, don't say a word until your attorney gets there."

It looked like the young man was finally beginning to realize just how precarious a position he was in. Alex couldn't really blame Armstrong for his enthusiasm in going after Bill. After all, the young blacksmith had the means to commit the murder as well as a pretty strong motive. As to opportunity, Alex had to admit that just about anyone staying at The Hatteras West Inn could have killed Jefferson Lee. In Alex's mind, the most damaging piece of evidence was the metal spear used to stab the blacksmith; there was little doubt that Bill Yadkin had forged the skewer used to kill Jefferson Lee.

After Armstrong had taken Bill Yadkin away, with Rachel close on their heels, Alex looked around the suddenly deserted inn. The place was eerily quiet. Alex stepped outside for some fresh air. Springtime in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains could be delightful, but it could also be a fickle friend. He'd seen it balmy and warm one day, only to have violent ice storms the next. Fortunately, for the fair's sake, the weather looked like it would be cooperating over the next two days.

On the wide, expansive porch at the front of the inn, Alex stood beside the half-dozen rocking chairs and surveyed the grounds. People were just beginning to file in, and with the murder on the grounds, it could easily turn out to be a record crowd. Shantara had had the foresight to sell daily tickets to the event, and from the number of people already drifting in, she'd easily earn her investment in the fair back today, leaving the next day for pure profit. His gaze automatically took in the new construction site, where one of Armstrong's deputies now stood guard.

Alex suddenly felt a meaty paw slap him on the back. "You just can't stay out of trouble, can you?"

Alex smiled brightly at Mor Pendleton. "You can't blame this one on me," Alex said as he looked at his friend. He and Alex had played football together, though Mor had been the star, while Alex had played more of a supporting role. A bad hit in college had wiped out Mor's knees, and the man had been forced to drop out of college and come back to Elkton Falls to join Lester Williamson in the handyman business. The two men were vital to keeping Hatteras West up and running, and Mor or Les was a welcome fixture to all of Elkton Falls.

"Where's Emma?" Alex asked lightly. His resident gem expert and his best friend had become quite an item around Elkton Falls lately.

Mor shrugged. "She's around here somewhere. That woman can surely be exasperating."

Alex laughed. "I've heard her say the exact same thing about you."

"I'll just bet you have," Mor said.

As Emma Sturbridge joined them on the porch, she said, "My ears were burning fiercely. Were you gentlemen by any chance talking about me?" Emma was a large, attractive woman with a sharp gleam in her eyes and a confident tone in her voice.

"What did you buy?" Mor asked, looking at the bundle under her arm and ignoring her question completely.

"I found the most delightful sweater. That Jenny can really weave, can't she?" Emma took her new acquisition out of the bag and held it up in front of her. The sweater sported a bright splash of colors that seemed to melt together in a most unusual pattern, but it suited her.

Emma Sturbridge had come to the inn as a guest searching for some of the emeralds the area was famous for, and she'd ended up staying in Elkton Falls. The town had that effect on some people, drawing them in like bees to fresh blossoms. Emma now owned a crisply kept little cottage in town, and Alex believed that its proximity to Mor or Les's repair shop was anything but an accident. She'd been delighted to announce to Mor that she fancied him, and to Alex's surprise, it hadn't taken Mor long to reciprocate.

Mor said, "Emma, I've got to get back to town. I have a full schedule today." He laughed at Alex. "Believe it or not, you're not even on my list."

"The new boiler's running as calm and quiet as a whisper," Alex said.

Mor nodded. "I'm glad you took some of the money from the new construction budget to replace it, but I kind of miss hanging around, Alex." The old boiler had been a nightmare for both men, and Alex wondered which of them had been more relieved to see it go. It now resided, in various pieces, at Amy Lang's studio, destined to be wed with other discards to become another piece of her modern sculpture. Amy was fairly new to Elkton Falls, though her people had come from the Foothills several generations before. Once the fair was over, Alex promised himself to make it a point to visit her studio. After all, she was one of his closest neighbors, though their respective businesses kept them busy at their own tasks.

"Are you heading back with me?" Mor asked.

Emma said, "I think I'll stay and catch up with Elise. I haven't seen her in days. I'll see you tonight." She kissed Mor soundly, and he laughed brightly when Emma stepped back.

"You're good for me, woman," he said, still smiling.

"It's nice to be appreciated, but you're going to be late."

Mor grinned at Alex. "She's a worse slave driver than Les is."