The Extinguished Guest (A Lexie Starr Mystery, Book 2) (22 page)

The older woman had the decency to look embarrassed. "Youth," she said, a single word
expressing a thorough explanation of the scene we'd just witnessed. "I'm sorry all
of our department managers are off today. I'm Frieda Nihart, by the way. Feel free
to look around in the herb department for the tansy oil while I search through our
inventory list. I wish Mr. Walker were here today. I know he'd be able to help you.
He seems to know a little about everything."

"Cornelius?" I asked.

"Yes, Cornelius Walker," Frieda said. "You must know him. Isn't he just the best thing
to come along since Botox? All the customers flock to him for help and assistance.
And all of the older single ladies just flock to him for the sake of being near him
and to have a chance at maybe reeling him in. He'd be quite a catch, you know."

"So I've heard," I said, dryly. I studied Frieda's forehead for a second. If she was
getting Botox treatments, it was a horrible waste of money on her part. She had furrows
across her forehead you could plant potatoes in.

"Thank you, Frieda," I said, before heading back to the herb department. Was there
something about Cornelius I'd overlooked? I wondered. Had my first impression of him
clouded my ability to see him in a more realistic and favorable, light? I'd have to
try to set my former opinions aside and re-evaluate him.

The store was eerily quiet. My footsteps seemed to echo as I walked down the aisle.
I could even hear Daphne talking to a fish in an aquarium back in the pet department.
"We'll find you a new home soon, my pretty little neon tetra," I heard her say. I
couldn't hear if the neon tetra responded.

Looking around the herb department, I found nothing resembling tansy oil. I found
about every other herb there was, and everything even remotely related to herbs and
herb gardening, but no tansy oil. Frieda joined me in a few minutes to tell me tansy
oil was not listed in their inventory either, so she doubted the Farm and Ranch store
had ever carried it. It would be a highly unlikely product for the store to carry,
she told me.

I thanked her again, purchased a replacement tub of salt crystals and an ice scraper,
and left the store. It was time to bite the bullet and call Stone. I had hoped it
wouldn't come to this, but I really had no other option. Too much time had passed.
He'd soon discover I wasn't in his room at the inn, if he didn't know already, and
he'd be worried and upset. I wouldn't have been surprised to find Detective Johnston
had already phoned Stone from his squad car.

Stone answered his cell phone on the first ring. "Lexie? Where are you? Are you all
right?" There was anxiety in his voice, and I felt instantly contrite. I didn't deserve
a man as understanding and thoughtful as Stone Van Patten.

"Yes, I'm okay. I apologize for sneaking out. There was something I really had to
do, and I knew you'd balk at the idea of my leaving the inn," I said. I wiped my eyes
with the sleeve of my jacket. I was perturbed to find myself sniveling into the phone,
but I was consumed with a sense of guilt at having deceived Stone. "I'm so sorry.
Please forgive me. I really didn't mean to worry you."

"It's okay, honey. I'm sure I would have balked because I can't help but worry about
you, but the main thing is that you're all right. When Crystal came and told me Rosalinda
was up in the room with you, I rushed right up there and was terrified to find you
missing. Rosalinda claimed to have no idea where you'd gone, but she was well on her
way to getting inebriated, and I don't trust her anyway. I called your cell phone
and got your voice mail. I left a message but you never returned my call."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot to turn it on until I had to call for a wrecker," I said.

"A wrecker? Oh, no! What happened? Have you been in an accident?"

"No, no. It's nothing like that. The Jeep is just stuck in a ditch. Doug's Towing
will soon be here to pull me out, and then I'll head straight to the Alexandria Inn.
I'll tell you all about everything then. Okay?"

* * *

Stone was understandably annoyed with me when I returned early in the afternoon, but
his sense of relief overwhelmed his anger. Still, I knew his patience had to be wearing
pretty thin with my recent impulsive antics. He listened patiently as I reiterated
my conversations with Rosalinda and then her half-brother Peter Randall. I told him
Detective Johnston had stopped and visited with me when he spotted my Jeep in the
ditch, and then I told him about my visit to the Farm and Ranch Supply store. As always,
Stone listened intently as I spoke, and when I finished, he told me I had a message
to call Wendy at her home. Harry Turner had told him he wanted to talk to me, too,
when I had some free time.

We were sitting at the counter in the kitchen, drinking coffee and scanning through
the
Rockdale Gazette,
which Stone had just retrieved from the front yard. It was several hours late in
being delivered, which didn't come as any surprise to me. I knew the carrier, Howie
Clamm, had been towed out of a ditch earlier, too.

Stone read the front-page article aloud. It concerned the investigation into Prescott's
murder and the arrest of Peter Randall as the prime suspect, so it was conceivable
Stacey Shryock could have read about Peter's arrest, after all. As Stone held the
paper up to read the front page, I noticed a small headline on the back of the paper.
It read
Indian Rights Committee Snuffs Development Plan.

A few minutes later, I would read the entire article and realize the property in question
was the land selected as the site of the new shopping center downtown. It was the
property Horatio had bought out from under Robert Fischer and was in preparation of
selling to a developer for six and a half million dollars. Only now, during the surveying
stage, in the middle of the acreage, an ancient Indian burial plot had been discovered
and the project had been stalled. It contained the remains of six long-dead Native
Americans from the Pottawatomie tribe. For now, at least, no development would be
allowed to take place on what was considered sacred land. It now appeared that Robert
Fischer was fortunate he hadn't invested in this particular property, which was suddenly
worth less than half what Horatio had paid for it years ago.

Chapter 17

I finished reading the newspaper and made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
I'd missed lunch at the inn, and my stomach was growling. I made a sandwich for Stone,
too, because he'd eaten early and was hungry again. I liked the fact that, like me,
Stone carried around a few extra pounds. It made him cuddlier and made me feel less
chubby. It also lent him a reliable air, which I found reassuring.

Crystal was scouring counters in the kitchen and offered to make the sandwiches for
us, but I declined her offer with a wave of my hand. She was cleaning up after the
lunch she'd just served to our Historical Society guests. She had enough on her plate
without waiting on us hand and foot. In one fluid motion, Crystal tossed the soiled
washrag in the sink and opened the dishwasher, which was full of still steaming clean
dishes. She was placing a stack of plates in the cabinet before I could even open
my mouth to speak.

"It'll only take me a minute, sweetie," I said. "But thanks for the offer anyway.
After you finish unloading the dishwasher, why don't you take a much-deserved coffee
break yourself?"

"I might," she said. "I've already had too much coffee today, but I could use a glass
of iced tea."

"Take a break now if you'd like, Crystal," Stone said. "The dishes can wait."

The kitchen phone rang as he spoke, and he crossed the room to answer it. I could
tell it was Detective Johnston on the other end. When Stone hung up, he turned to
me with a grin and a thumbs-up gesture.

"Detective Johnston asked me to tell you that you were correct," Stone said. "After
he spoke to Sergeant O'Brien about your idea, the sergeant sent him over to Peter
Randall's house to take a Polaroid photo of Peter with his glasses on and without
the hairpiece. Randall had forgotten he hadn't worn the toupee or his contacts to
the theatre. Wyatt took the new photo over to the usher's house and the young kid
recognized Peter immediately as the man he woke in the theatre Sunday night. The kid
said Mr. Randall fell asleep during the previews of coming attractions, before the
featured movie even began. He admitted he hadn't recognized the man in the first photo
he'd been shown because it was a photo taken of Mr. Randall at work, wearing his toupee,
contacts, and a formal suit. It looked like a totally different person."

"I had a gut feeling that's what had happened," I said.

"Your intuition paid off. The lady who sold the movie ticket to Mr. Randall also recognized
him in the new photo and stated she saw him leave the theatre after the show and walk
across the street to his house. She could see him open his front door from her ticket
booth. She said all his lights went out shortly afterwards, as if he'd gone straight
to bed. The house remained dark until she left the theatre at quitting time."

"So his story's been validated?"

"Yes. The charges against him have been dropped, and because Peter Randall was the
only suspect they'd come up with, the Rockdale Police Department has decided to turn
the case over to the county homicide division. The county has a larger staff and more
experience dealing with this kind of thing."

"What a relief!" I said. "On both counts, I might add."

"Horatio's daughter Veronica must have thought so, too. Wyatt said she decided not
to retain her own P.I. once she heard the county homicide division was taking over
the case. Veronica felt they were better equipped to handle the investigation, I'm
sure."

"It stands to reason they would be," I agreed. "Rockdale's not a very big town and
doesn't have a very extensive police force. I don't think it'd be wise to have the
entire force tied up with one homicide case anyway, even as rare as homicide is for
this town. Rockdale's not exactly a hotbed of crime, but things are always going on
that need the attention of police officers."

"You're probably right," Stone said. "And also, Wyatt told me Veronica had recently
divorced her Mormon husband, which caused quite a stir. Apparently her husband was
abusive. Broke her jaw the last time he pounded on her. Veronica's in town for her
father's funeral, and Wyatt is going to escort her to the services. He's picking her
up at the airport this afternoon. He's kind of excited and surprised she'd lower herself
to accept his help. He told me he had a crush on her when he was younger, but she'd
had no interest in him whatsoever. I told him to remember people can change over the
years, for better or worse."

I nodded. "That'd be nice if they hit it off. Wyatt is an attractive man, and he seems
like the type who'd be happier with a wife and family. He definitely needs a wife
who likes to cook. Speaking of family, Rosalinda will be happy to hear the news about
her brother. I think I'll go tell her right now," I said.

"You'll probably find Rosalinda's a bit tipsy." Stone chuckled and gave me a wink.
"She's been in the parlor with Cornelius for a couple of hours. The two of them seem
to be getting pretty tight—in more ways than one."

"She's with the handsome devil himself?"

"Huh?"

I left him with a puzzled look on his face and went to tell Rosalinda the good news
about Peter. After speaking with Rosalinda, I'd search for Harry Turner.

* * *

As I suspected, Rosalinda was ecstatic the police had dropped charges on Peter, or
at least she was ecstatic once she remembered who Peter was and why he'd been arrested
in the first place. I found her giggling like a schoolgirl in response to something
Cornelius had just said as they frolicked playfully on the loveseat near the fireplace.
"Wank woo, Wexie," Rosalinda said, after I explained the good news.

"Have you seen Harry Turner recently?" I asked Cornelius. I could see that conversing
with Rosalinda was just a waste of my time.

"No, sorry," he said. "He's may be reading in the library with Alma or in his room
packing his suitcase. We're all planning to leave after lunch tomorrow. We decided
to give the streets a chance to dry off before we headed out. They could still be
a bit slick in the morning."