Shadow of a Spout by Amanda Cooper Read Free Book Online Page B

I’ll call the cops.”
    A couple of doors shut, but Thelma had hers open and leaned out, watching with glee. “More excitement than I’ve seen for ages,” she said.
    The pastor was sobbing. Rose could see that his lip was bloody as they passed under a light sconce. Bertie dragged him along the hall to the elevator and punched the down button.
    Orlando Pettigrew, hand over one eye, called after them, “What in God’s name is wrong with you, Frank?”
    The pastor pulled away from the innkeeper and straightened. Glaring back at Pettigrew, he said, “You don’t deserve love, you pathetic piece of sh—”
    “Enough!” Bertie said, and stabbed the down button again.
    Penelope Daley, one of the Niagara Teapot Collectors Group, popped out into the hall, housecoat on over a filmy nightgown. “Poor Frank. I must go to him!” she cried, clutching the neck of her housecoat with one hand and flapping the other.
    “Miss Daley, please go back to your room!” Bertie said, struggling with the pastor.
    “You’re out of your mind, Frank!” Orlando shouted after him as the elevator doors opened and the two men got on. The doors closed. Orlando glared around at the watchers. “What do
you
all want? That guy’s crazy. Drunken fool.” He slammed his door.
    Thelma chuckled and went back into the room, where SuLinn could be heard drowsily asking what was going on. Penelope Daley dithered for a moment but then retreated into her room, as did Rose and Laverne. A low, distant rumble of thunder shuddered through the old inn. Laverne turned out the light and the two climbed into their beds.
    “Where was Zunia during that little dustup?” Rose asked.
    “I can’t imagine. Standing behind her husband, working Orlando’s mouth, I’d imagine,” Laverne groused.
    Rose chuckled. Laverne’s imagery was apt, since Zunia did seem to speak for her husband more often than not. Orlando wasn’t always like that. She had known him with his first wife, Dahlia, and he had seemed much more decisive. “Did Frank seem drunk to you, Laverne?” Rose asked, glancing over at the digital clock on the nightstand. Just about midnight.
    “I know for a fact that Frank Barlow does not touch a drop of alcohol.”
    “That’s what I thought. What got into him, I wonder?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe we’ll find out in the morning.”

Chapter 5
    I t was much later. The room was pitch-dark, and then it was filled with a sudden flash of brilliant light, every piece of furniture in the place throwing shadows. Rose sat up with a cry, as did Laverne, as more lightning flashed. An alarm went off in the hall, then swiftly after, a woman screamed.
    “What the heck is going on now?” Rose staggered from bed and pulled on her cotton housecoat.
    “I have no idea,” Laverne grumbled. “What time is it anyway?”
    “About three. One of those nights, I guess. Wonder what that alarm is? We’d better get up in case there’s a fire.” Rose once again slipped her feet into her mule slippers and started toward the door, as Laverne switched on a bedside lamp, pulled a flowered cotton housedress over her head and followed. As Rose jerked open the door she could hear voices. It seemed like everyone else had the same idea, to investigate what was going on. She followed the chatter, as someone cried, “Call nine-one-one!”
    “What’s going on? Is there a fire?” Rose asked of Josh Sinclair as he, she and Laverne followed the crowd. SuLinn followed, too, as did Thelma, crabbing about the worst night’s sleep she’d never had.
    “Don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” Josh, dressed in a T-shirt and boxers, pushed through the people in front of him.
    Moments later, as Rose and Laverne reached the pack of people near the elevator, they heard Josh yelp and say, “I know CPR; let me help.”
    “What in tarnation is going on?” Laverne demanded.
    Rose, who was slightly in front of her, peeked through the gap left by taller folks and could see. Her heart