Read Murder At Murder At the Mimosa Inn, The for Free Online Page A

seemed on the verge of a collapse—which would amuse the rubber-neckers behind us, but was apt to disrupt the ambiance.
    She breathed for a moment in noisy little gulps, then said, “What about the little bungalows beyond the garden? I will pay whatever you tell me, but it’s so dreadfully important.”
    “We only use them when the inn is filled,” Mimi said, “and they’re closed now. I suppose we could air one for you, Mrs … . ?”
    “Smith,” the woman quavered. She gave Mimi a pathetically grateful look, nodded at me, and scurried over to the desk to snatch up a battered cloth suitcase. She was through the back door before Mimi could find the registration book.
    Mimi gave me a wry smile. “There’s not much reason to insist that Mrs. Smith put her name in the book, is there? I’m surprised she didn’t try ‘Jane Doe.’ What a curious creature … Why do you think she is so determined to stay here, Claire?”
    “Perhaps she’s compulsive about croquet,” I said, equally mystified but not especially concerned. I had more important things to worry about, so I shifted to an
expression of mild curiosity. “Are you in the process of selling the Mimosa Inn to Harmon Crundall?”
    Flinching, Mimi moved behind the desk and took several minutes to write Mrs. Smith’s name in the registration book. “It’s a possibility,” she said, her voice so low, I could barely hear her.
    “Eric didn’t mention it earlier.”
    “It’s not something we enjoy discussing. Last fall, when we wanted to buy the inn, we were a little short on the down payment. Harmon paid us a substantial sum for an option on some land. It’s been a slow season, what with the bitterly cold winter and all. We had some severe plumbing problems that played havoc with the budget, and we were unable to buy back the option. Now Harmon has insisted that we allow him to exercise the option on the land that adjoins the inn. Should that happen, the Mimosa Inn would be ruined.”
    “Dreadful,” I murmured encouragingly. I noticed that Peter was eavesdropping and moved closer to the desk. “So that’s why he’s here this weekend?”
    “The option expires Monday at midnight. He brought the contract and papers for us to sign. Our lawyer says we haven’t much choice.” She looked around the room with a tight frown. “It’s not fair. We haven’t really had a chance to make a go of the Mimosa Inn. Our bookings are strong for the remainder of the summer and fall, and we ought to show a healthy profit by then.”
    “But Harmon won’t wait?”
    “We’ll be sitting in the middle of an urban war zone by next spring,” Mimi said bitterly. She slammed the book closed. “But you mustn’t worry about it, Claire. I’ll think of something on my own. Harmon Crundall won’t destroy the Mimosa Inn, unless he does it over my dead body—or his!”
    Her eyes welled with tears. Covering her mouth with her hand, she dashed into the office. The sound of sobs came
through the door, muffled but unmissable. I waited for a moment, then turned toward the stairs.
    Peter stepped into my path. “Very interesting,” he said with a grin, tilting his head at the closed door.
    I sidestepped around him and continued on. “Wasn’t it? Of course, she and Eric must be heartbroken about the deal. It’s nasty stuff.”
    “Are you going upstairs to make squiggles in your notebook? I thought we might take a stroll around the grounds. We can search for clues, or simply enjoy the sunshine.”
    I shot Mr. Amiable a sugary smile. “You go on, Peter. I do have a few things to jot drown, but I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes. Besides, Caron may be devising some scheme to escape. I need to check on her.”
    I had no intention of strolling with the man—or searching for clues together. This was a solo flight, and I wasn’t going to behave like an ambulatory pigeon. He knew that I knew something; he was hoping to pry it out of me with his broad, warm smiles and