Free MURDER IN RETROSPECT (Allie Griffin Mysteries Book 5) by Leslie Leigh Page B

enticing to eyes as well as the fingers. There was a Vivaldi string concerto playing softly on hidden speakers, and the smell of something warm and freshly baked wafted throughout the place.
                  "Welcome to the Tree Top Inn," said the matronly figure behind the front desk. She had a puffy face with red cheeks and she wore her hair in a tight, blonde and gray-streaked bun that looked like it had been cemented into that shape for all of eternity.
                  "Hi there, my name is Allie Griffin; I'm inquiring into the whereabouts of someone who may be staying here. His name is Ganz, Eddie Ganz."
                  "Hmm, doesn’t ring a bell."
                  "Hmm, that's too bad," said Allie, taking out her wallet. "I have something, where is it?" She riffled through her wallet and said, "Are you sure you don’t remember anyone by that name?
              The woman shook her head. "Wait, did you say Ganz? That does ring a bell, hang on." 
                  She opened up a ledger and scanned a few pages.
                  "I didn’t think you guys used books like that anymore," said Allie, truly impressed as the antiquarian she fancied herself to be at times. "I thought it was all digital."
                  "Oh, everything in here is backed up. But there's something quaint and comforting about a ledger, don’t you think? Ah, Edward Ganz. Yes, he was here two weeks ago. I have trouble with names sometimes. Yes, he's here regularly—almost every weekend, in fact. Sometimes during the week. Not so much lately though."
                  "Interesting. He's here on business?"
                  "That what he says, yes."
                  "You realize you just said that with a wink."
                  The woman smiled coyly. "We don’t pry into our guests' lives."
                  "He stayed with a guest, then?"
                  "Frequently."
                  "Frequently?"
                  "Oh, always the same person. She signed the book once. Let's see..." More riffling through the book, and then, "Here she is: Miss Sarah Sandeswack."
                  "Sounds made up."
                  "We don’t like to pry."
                  "That's ok." Allie leaned over to have a closer look at the name. "It's been spelled out clearly."
                  "Mmm."
                  "No, when I say clearly, I mean slowly. Look at the stiff hand and the curves on all the a's. They’re deliberately formed, and not by a hand that's used to forming them. And there are no flourishes anywhere on the signature. It's a fake name, Sandeswack."
                  The woman closed the book abruptly. "I'm sorry, but I'm not at liberty to give you any information about our guests."
                  "So a physical description is out?"
                  "I'm afraid so."
                  "That's ok, I have enough. Thank you for your time. You have a lovely place here, by the way."
                  "Thank you."
                  "Oh, and how much is Mr. Ganz paying you to keep his affair quiet?"
                  "Excuse me?"
                  "It's not that hard to figure out. You had no idea who the guy was until I opened my wallet pretending to look for something. I intentionally flashed a couple of fifties and suddenly you remembered everything about this frequent guest of yours. Until, that is, I asked for more information, and suddenly it became apparent that I wasn't going to give you anything for it, which is when you snapped the book shut. So that's why I asked. And I'm going to ask again. How much is Ganz paying you?"
                  "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
                  "I