Free Innkeeping with Murder by Tim Myers Page A

requested on her arrival
that no one enter her room during her stay. Marisa had been more
than happy to oblige.
    When she could finally speak, Miss Halloway’s
voice was cracked and full of fear. “I saw a ghost.”
    Alex tried to keep his tone light. “Surely in
this fog everything looks ghostly. It might have been someone going
for a late stroll, or even a billowing cloud of fog. Last year I
saw a unicorn myself.”
    Instead of warming to Alex’s humor, Miss
Halloway turned on him with a fiery scorn in her eyes. “I said I
saw a ghost, and that’s exactly what I meant.”
    Elise stepped closer to her, and Alex admired
her calm poise. “No one’s doubting your word for a moment. Where
did you see it?”
    Miss Halloway pointed one long, slim finger
at the lighthouse. “It was going up the steps. I saw a light flash
by each window. Then, in a break in the fog, I saw a ghastly white
face peering out of one of the windows. I shall never forget those
haunted eyes.”
    Elise said, “My goodness, you’re shivering.
Why don’t we go brew a pot of hot tea while Mr. Winston checks the
lighthouse.”
    Miss Halloway nodded absently, her eyes still
on the lighthouse as she headed for the lobby of the annex. Elise
shot one backward glance at Alex as the two women walked off into
the fog. He wasn’t sure what Miss Halloway had really seen, but
after the murder earlier in the day it was something he would have
to investigate. The killer may have returned to the scene of the
crime, perhaps in search of an incriminating piece of evidence left
behind. Taking a heavy flashlight and a croquet mallet from the
storage shed near the lighthouse’s front steps, Alex hurried to the
tower.
    Sure enough, the normally locked door banged
gently in the breeze. Had he locked the door after the ambulance
attendants had removed Reg’s body? For the life of him, Alex
couldn’t remember. For an instant, he considered calling Sheriff
Armstrong to investigate the mysterious light, but Alex knew there
wasn’t enough time.
    Pausing at the outer door, Alex peered
through the gloom of the darkened interior of the lighthouse. As he
entered the lower landing, he saw that there was indeed a dim light
moving above him.
    Someone was up there.
    Alex shut off his own flashlight, hoping that
whoever was at the top of the lighthouse had failed to see it. He
quickly shoved the light into his back pocket and grasped the metal
handrail, still clutching the mallet with his free hand. Alex
silently inched his way up the steps, always keeping his eyes on
the shifting beam of light above him.
    He stopped at the eighth landing, wondering
if he should continue up or go back for reinforcements, when the
light started down the top stairs toward him! Hugging the wall
beside the steps, Alex hoped that whoever was coming down would
miss him with their light.
    The beam caught him squarely in the face.
    “Who is that? Lower your light.” Alex’s voice
rang out with more confidence than he felt.
    “What are you doing stumbling around in the
dark? I almost shot you.” He quickly recognized the voice as
Sheriff Armstrong’s.
    Alex replied, “I could ask you what you’re
doing up here yourself.”
    Armstrong turned his light toward the rounded
wall and away from their faces. The sheriff grinned. “I had a
thought to check the lens itself for evidence. If Wellington saw
someone heading toward him he didn’t trust, I figured he might have
stashed something in the lens housing. It’s the only hiding place
worth a hoot up there.”
    Alex was impressed. He hadn’t thought to look
around for a dying clue. “Did you have any luck?”
    Armstrong shrugged. “Just a couple more of
those rocks we found before.”
    Alex explained, “Reg probably picked them up
on a walk across the grounds. They’re everywhere.”
    Armstrong replied, “Maybe he was going to
drop them off the top of the lighthouse.”
    “Reg had more sense than that.”
    Armstrong grinned eerily in the light.