Murder in Prospect: An Eve Sawyer Mystery by Jane Suen

Author:Jane Suen [Suen, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-08-22T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

We worked the phones and made our way down the list of guests. I called the couple, Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin. The wife answered the phone. I introduced myself and explained the reason we were calling, about the death of Will Harding. She was shocked to hear about the unexpected tragedy.

“If you could help us out,” I said.

“We’d just got back home from our trip.”

“Why stay one night at Prospect Inn?”

“It was our second honeymoon. A celebration of our twenty-fifth anniversary. We planned this trip to retrace the steps of our first honeymoon.”

“You stayed here twenty-five years ago?”

“Yes,” she said. “My goodness, how fast the years had flown. Back then, John and I, well, when we met, we were both practically penniless. But we were young, happy, and in love.”

I heard a man’s voice, a hum and a rustling, and what sounded like affectionate pecks on the cheek.

“Now, where was I?” She came back to the phone, sounding breathless.

“You were both young—”

“Yes, yes. And we decided to re-create the same route we took back then. When I called to make the reservation, I wasn’t sure the place was still there and open. We lucked out.”

“Why did you stay only one night?”

She laughed, deep and throaty. “You’re thinking we have the money now to live it up? You’re not wrong. We could have stayed longer, even a week or two. But the first time we’d stayed one night.”

“I see,” I said. But I wouldn’t have stayed just one night. That was just me talking, so I kept it to myself. Time to change the subject. “Are you and your husband light sleepers?”

“My husband, no. Definitely not. I can be, sometimes, unless I’m really tired.”

“In the evening and overnight during your stay, did you see Mr. Will Harding or hear any noise from his room?”

She paused like she was thinking hard—I hoped.

“Our room was upstairs. We could hear if someone was coming up or going down the stairs. But from where we stayed, we couldn’t have heard anything from downstairs.”

I waited for her to continue.

“We had dinner downstairs. I remember it was pot roast. I even remarked to John that it was delicious, perfectly cooked and flavorful. I moaned and said I’d never tire of eating this.”

“Did you sit with the other guests?”

“We picked the small table. I wanted it to be cozy and romantic. Just the two of us. Frankly, I was too busy enjoying my dinner and conversation with John. I didn’t pay attention to too much else.”

“When was the last time you guys saw Mr. Harding?”

“He wasn’t in the dining room when we had dinner.” She paused like she was having a hard time recalling. “Well, I think it was in the late afternoon sometime. We’d gone out for a walk and came back to the inn for the afternoon refreshment, homemade cookies, which were in the dining room. He passed us on our way in and said hello.”

“Did you speak to him?”

“Just briefly when he greeted us, and introduced himself, and asked how our stay was.

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