Part 2 (2/2)
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.”
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