Read Online Murder On the Rocks by Karen MacInerney - Free Book Online
Authors: Karen MacInerney
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see.” Grimes walked past me to the front door. He turned to me with one hand on the doorknob. “I guess that’s all for now,” he said. Then he wagged a finger at me. “Remember what I said, though. If you’ve got any business off-island, you’ll have to send somebody else.”
“How could I forget?”
When the door closed behind him, I laid my head down, pressing my forehead against the surface of the big maple desk. My inn was in jeopardy, one of my guests had died under suspicious circumstances, the newspaper was running a story on it, and it looked as if the police had decided I might be a murderer. I was sure things could get worse. I just wasn’t sure how.
Something warm pressed against my leg; it was Biscuit. I pulled her up on my lap, thankful for the company. She curled up into a ball, her green eyes half-closed as she rumbled with pleasure. “At least you’re happy.”
I was rubbing her cheeks and feeling marginally better when there was another knock at the door. Biscuit leaped off my lap as I stood up, wondering what Sergeant Grimes wanted now. To my relief, it was John.
“Thank goodness it’s you,” I said.
“I knocked at the kitchen door first, but I didn’t see you,” he said, smiling. “You look almost spooked. Who were you expecting, the bogeyman?”
“Close enough. I just had a nice little meeting with Sergeant Grimes. He seems to think Bernard Katz was murdered” I sighed. “He also thinks I might have killed him.”
John’s smile faded. “You’re kidding me”
“Well, he told me I wasn’t allowed to leave Cranberry Island, and made some pretty insinuating remarks.” I realized that John was still standing on the doorstep. “I’m sorry-please, come in. Are you hungry? I just made a batch of cranberry walnut scones.”
“No wonder it smells so good in here,” he said, stepping through the door. “That sounds great” Biscuit sidled up to him, mewing plaintively. John scooped her up and she rumbled with pleasure as he followed me into the kitchen.
“Traitor,” I muttered.
John continued to rub Biscuit as I fixed a plate of scones and filled the teakettle with water, more aware than I would have liked of John’s lean limbs and the crinkle of the brown skin around his green eyes. He cooed to Biscuit, who luxuriated in the attention; with everything that had been going on, I’d neglected her for the last couple of days.
“What a day,” he said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “I think I’ve talked with half of the island already. For some reason, once the helicopter came, everyone was in the mood for a hike along the cliffs.” Biscuit settled in contentedly on his lap, still purring.
“You’re telling me,” I said. “I’ve got half a dozen calls to return to people I’ve never even spoken to” I put the kettle on the stove and sat down across from him. “So,” I said, “What happened?”
“They airlifted him out.” John’s twinkling green eyes were still, and his voice was serious. “You were right,” he said. “He was beyond help.”
“That’s what Grimes said.” I sat for a moment, thinking of what I’d seen on the cliff. “Do you still think someone killed him?”
“Well, there’s still the possibility that he might have fallen. We won’t be sure until the autopsy results are in.” He grimaced. “I don’t know, though. He looked pretty bad.”
“What do you think he was doing out there?”
“It looked like he might have been going to meet someone.” He paused to sink his teeth into a scone. His sandy eyebrows shot up and some of the sparkle returned to his green eyes. “These are delicious,” he mumbled through a mouthful of crumbs. I resisted the urge to reach out and brush a crumb from his lower lip.
“Why do you think he was meeting someone?”
“Just something I saw. Something he had with him. Besides, he was pretty dressed up for a hike.”
I snorted. “Anything less than a three-piece suit was
“How could I forget?”
When the door closed behind him, I laid my head down, pressing my forehead against the surface of the big maple desk. My inn was in jeopardy, one of my guests had died under suspicious circumstances, the newspaper was running a story on it, and it looked as if the police had decided I might be a murderer. I was sure things could get worse. I just wasn’t sure how.
Something warm pressed against my leg; it was Biscuit. I pulled her up on my lap, thankful for the company. She curled up into a ball, her green eyes half-closed as she rumbled with pleasure. “At least you’re happy.”
I was rubbing her cheeks and feeling marginally better when there was another knock at the door. Biscuit leaped off my lap as I stood up, wondering what Sergeant Grimes wanted now. To my relief, it was John.
“Thank goodness it’s you,” I said.
“I knocked at the kitchen door first, but I didn’t see you,” he said, smiling. “You look almost spooked. Who were you expecting, the bogeyman?”
“Close enough. I just had a nice little meeting with Sergeant Grimes. He seems to think Bernard Katz was murdered” I sighed. “He also thinks I might have killed him.”
John’s smile faded. “You’re kidding me”
“Well, he told me I wasn’t allowed to leave Cranberry Island, and made some pretty insinuating remarks.” I realized that John was still standing on the doorstep. “I’m sorry-please, come in. Are you hungry? I just made a batch of cranberry walnut scones.”
“No wonder it smells so good in here,” he said, stepping through the door. “That sounds great” Biscuit sidled up to him, mewing plaintively. John scooped her up and she rumbled with pleasure as he followed me into the kitchen.
“Traitor,” I muttered.
John continued to rub Biscuit as I fixed a plate of scones and filled the teakettle with water, more aware than I would have liked of John’s lean limbs and the crinkle of the brown skin around his green eyes. He cooed to Biscuit, who luxuriated in the attention; with everything that had been going on, I’d neglected her for the last couple of days.
“What a day,” he said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “I think I’ve talked with half of the island already. For some reason, once the helicopter came, everyone was in the mood for a hike along the cliffs.” Biscuit settled in contentedly on his lap, still purring.
“You’re telling me,” I said. “I’ve got half a dozen calls to return to people I’ve never even spoken to” I put the kettle on the stove and sat down across from him. “So,” I said, “What happened?”
“They airlifted him out.” John’s twinkling green eyes were still, and his voice was serious. “You were right,” he said. “He was beyond help.”
“That’s what Grimes said.” I sat for a moment, thinking of what I’d seen on the cliff. “Do you still think someone killed him?”
“Well, there’s still the possibility that he might have fallen. We won’t be sure until the autopsy results are in.” He grimaced. “I don’t know, though. He looked pretty bad.”
“What do you think he was doing out there?”
“It looked like he might have been going to meet someone.” He paused to sink his teeth into a scone. His sandy eyebrows shot up and some of the sparkle returned to his green eyes. “These are delicious,” he mumbled through a mouthful of crumbs. I resisted the urge to reach out and brush a crumb from his lower lip.
“Why do you think he was meeting someone?”
“Just something I saw. Something he had with him. Besides, he was pretty dressed up for a hike.”
I snorted. “Anything less than a three-piece suit was
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