The Welcoming

healing cut on her temple. “I had a little accident last week.”
    “Nothing serious?”
    “No, just inconvenient, really. Some idiot joyriding nearly ran me down.”
    “That’s terrible.” Watching her carefully, he pulled his face into stern lines. “Were you badly hurt?”
    “No, no stitches, but a medley of bruises. Scared me more than anything.”
    “I can imagine. You don’t expect something like that around here. I hope they caught him.”
    “No, not yet.” Because she’d already put the incident behind her, she gave a careless shrug. “To tell you the truth, I doubt they ever will. I imagine he got off the island as soon as he sobered up.”
    “Drunk drivers.” Block made a sound of disgust. “Well, you’ve got a right to be distracted after something like that.”
    “Actually, I’ve got a much more pleasant reason. I’m getting married in a couple of weeks.”
    “You don’t say!” His face split into a wide grin. “Who’s the lucky man?”
    “Roman DeWinter. I don’t know if you met him. He’s doing some remodeling upstairs.”
    “That’s handy now, isn’t it?” He continued to grin. The romance explained a lot. One look at Charity’s face settled any lingering doubts. Block decided he’d have to have a nice long talk with Bob about jumping the gun. “Is he from around here?”
    “No, he’s from St. Louis, actually.”
    “Well, I hope he’s not going to take you away from us.”
    “You know I’d never leave the inn, Roger.” Her smile faded a bit. That was something she and Roman had never spoken of. “In any case, I promise to keep my mind on my work. You’ve got six people who want to rent boats.” She took a quick look at her watch. “I can have them taken to the marina by noon.”
    “I’ll round them up.”
    The door to the inn opened, and Charity glanced over. She saw a small, spare man with well-cut auburn hair, wearing a crisp sport shirt. He carried one small leather bag.
    “Good morning.”
    “Good morning.” He took a brief study of the lobby as he crossed to the desk. “Conby, Richard Conby. I believe I have a reservation.”
    “Yes, Mr. Conby. We’re expecting you.” Charity shuffled through the papers on the desk and sent up a quick prayer that Bob would have the computer humming along by the end of the day. “How was your trip?”
    “Uneventful.” He signed the register, listing his address as Seattle. Charity found herself both amused and impressed by his careful manicure. “I was told your inn is quiet, restful. I’m looking forward to relaxing for a day or two.”
    “I’m sure you’ll find the inn very relaxing.” She opened a drawer to choose a key. “Either Roman or I will drive your group to the marina, Roger. Have them in the parking lot at noon.”
    “Will do.” With a cheerful wave, he sauntered off.
    “I’ll be happy to show you to your room, Mr. Conby. If you have any questions about the inn, or the island, feel free to ask me or any of the staff.” She came around the desk and led the way to the stairs.
    “Oh, I will,” Conby said, following her. “I certainly will.”
    ***
    At precisely 12:05, Conby heard a knock and opened his door. “Prompt as always, DeWinter.” He scanned down to Roman’s tool belt. “Keeping busy, I see.”
    “Dupont’s in cabin 3.”
    Conby decided to drop the sarcasm. This was a big one, much too big for him to let his personal feelings interfere. “You made a positive ID?”
    “I helped him carry his bags.”
    “Very good.” Satisfied, Conby finished arranging his ebony-handled clothes brush and shoe horn on the oak dresser. “We’ll move in as planned on Thursday morning and take him before we close in on Block.”
    “What about the driver of the car who tried to kill Charity?”
    Always fastidious, Conby walked into the adjoining bath to wash his hands. “You’re inordinately interested in a small-time hood.”
    “Did you get a confession?”
    “Yes.” Conby unfolded a white hand towel bordered with flowers. “He admitted to meeting with Block last week and taking five thousand to—to put Miss Ford out of the picture. A very minor sum for a hit.” His hands dry, Conby tossed the towel over the lip of the sink before walking back into the bedroom. “If Block had been more discerning, he might have had more success.”
    Taking him by the collar, Roman lifted Conby to his toes. “Watch your step,” he said softly.
    “It’s more to the point for me to tell you