Read The Extinguished Guest (A Lexie Starr Mystery, Book 2) for Free Online Page A

That's a lot of money, isn't it?" I said. "Phew! Surely your stock
     investments didn't perform quite as spectacularly, did they?"
    "No, but they're adequate enough for our needs. And yes, it will be an incredible
     return on Horatio's money, I assure you. His heirs will be delighted, no doubt."
    "So Ernestine wasn't too fond of Prescott?" I asked, in a thinly veiled attempt at
     prying. I wasn't overly concerned with anyone's constitutional rights. It was easier
     for me to consider every guest guilty until proven innocent.
    "Ernestine considered Horatio to be crude and uncouth. He'd made a habit of referring
     to us as 'Bert and Ernie' in public, which infuriated Ernestine even further. She
     felt it was very disrespectful. He's gone now, and I look at the whole matter as water
     under the proverbial bridge, but it taught me not to trust a man like Horatio any
     farther than I could throw a water buffalo."
    I smiled at the vision his remark invoked. And I had to agree with Ernestine's assessment
     of Horatio Prescott. The Sesame Street reference was childish, and being snookered
     out of six and half million bucks might ruffle anybody's feathers, I thought.
    I patted Robert's forearm, shook my head in disapproval, and said, "Well, Robert,
     I can see why Ernestine felt the way she did about Mr. Prescott. It doesn't sound
     like Prescott was a man with much integrity or very high morals."
    "No. Sadly, he wasn't very principled for a self-proclaimed God-fearing man. He was
     an elder at the Presbyterian church, as well."
    "Jekyll and Hyde syndrome?"
    "I think he felt as if his duty at the church would erase his misdeeds in the eyes
     of the Lord, and perhaps ease his conscience at the same time," Robert said.
    "Hmm..."
    "I'm sure there was a motive behind it. Horatio makes... er, made, very few moves
     that weren't calculated. Which explains, in part, anyway, the wealth he amassed over
     the years."
    "As wealthy as he apparently was, he must have kept a substantial amount of money
     in the Rockdale Bank and Trust."
    "A substantial amount by most people's standards, but the bulk of his amassed fortune
     is in Swiss accounts. A lot of his wealth comes from questionable sources, like black
     market trading. There have even been rumors of a mob connection. So my guess would
     be a lot of the money has been nicely cleaned and pressed—"
    "Huh?"
    "Laundered," he clarified.
    "Oh, my. And Boris? Is he aware of this?"
    "Oh, I'm quite certain he is. In fact, I'd imagine he's the man with the soap!"

 
     
     
    Chapter 4

     
    Robert dumped imaginary ashes beside his chair and then placed the well-worn pipe
     in a back pocket before excusing himself to re-enter the Alexandria Inn. I noticed
     while we talked that he'd been shivering from the cool March wind as it flapped the
     thin, orange material of his jumpsuit back and forth against his skin. He was a tall,
     lanky gentleman, with a slightly bent-over posture, and was probably in his mid to
     late eighties. He was much too thin. There wasn't much meat on his bones to insulate
     him against the cold.
    I was feeling a bit chilled myself and lifted my camera from the table to go inside
     when I heard the distinct squeak of the patio door opening again. Patty Poffenbarger,
     holding a pastry, liberally covered in powdered sugar, swept out onto the back porch
     with her very reticent spouse in tow. They each carried a cup of steaming coffee Crystal
     had probably just refilled.
    I was beginning to think of Otto and Patty as Jack Sprat and his wife. If Otto could
     eat fat, he wasn't eating enough of it. He made Robert Fischer look beefy in comparison.
     And if Patty, who easily outweighed Otto by a hundred and seventy pounds, could eat
     lean, she was apparently not too fond of it, or she was eating enough of it for six
     people.
    "Otto, sit there!" she instructed, as she pointed at a barren, brick flower planter.
     Otto obediently sat down on the edge of the planter and immediately dug