case. Hunter hit it twice, and Dan Ramsey crawled out from behind a wall in the rear of the store, to my right. Another scruffy-looking youth, older than the one behind the counter, followed him out.
Ramsey was about sixty-years old, heavyset with a full head of white hair, and dark, button eyes. He was dressed in jeans, a loud flowered-shirt, and flip-flops on his feet.
“You must be the lawyer who wanted to see me. I don’t get too many people in here dressed in a suit. It makes it too hard to dig through the junk,” he chuckled, as he slid behind the counter.
“I appreciate you seeing me so soon, Mr. Ramsey.”
“Yeah, well, I figured that someone told you that Alyx Hille and I have our differences––and I don’t deny that––but she and that partner of hers have all these hoity-toity ideas about our downtown and they’ve managed to talk other owners into making unnecessary changes. They’ve tried to change the essence of Ocean Street, the flavor of the place, and I won’t stand for it if I can help it!”
“Do you feel strongly enough about stopping her to want to kill her, maybe?”
The hands in his pockets came out and slammed on the counter. “I agreed to see you, buddy, because I couldn’t wait to tell you that on the day in question, I was out of town at a flea market. At least a dozen regular dealers can testify that they saw me there from six in the morning to late afternoon.” His eyes narrowed. “And just for the record, I don’t know anything about what happened to Ms. Hille––and I can’t say I care!” He turned abruptly and went back to the hole behind the wall.
Although, I was truly exhausted, not to mention hungry, I couldn’t go home yet.
“In a cat’s eye all things belong to cats.”
–– English Proverb
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: A Business Deal
Although the outside of the building looked like Antiques & Designs, the inside of Ocean Street Café was different. The restaurant took up half of the downstairs, the rest was divided into retail stores––a candle shop, a jewelry store, and a candy store. In square footage, it was roughly twice the size.
Novie Moresby was behind the mahogany checkout counter––I was in the vicinity.
“Mrs. Moresby, I represent Ethan Hille and I have a couple of questions to ask you. I can see you’re busy, I’ll try to be brief.”
“I hope I can help you, but I don’t see how. Of course, I know Alyx and Ethan; they used to come in often when they first opened their store and Ethan still lived at home. I see Alyx all the time, but Ethan only occasionally.”
“When was the last time you saw them in here?”
“Let’s see now. I think they were in here for breakfast about a week ago.”
“What kind of relationship did they appear to have?”
“The kind every parent hopes for when they first think about having children. It was obvious they had love and respect for each other.”
“Did you ever hear them argue?”
“Not any of the times I saw them together.”
“Would you be willing to testify to that?”
“Yes, I certainly would.”
“Earlier I spoke to your husband about the real estate proposition he presented to Maggie Broeck. What do you know about it?”
“Just that the Dunne Development Company wants to buy our two buildings,” she said, with a shrug of her shoulders.
“Did your husband mention any stipulation about the developer buying both buildings?”
“No, he didn’t mention anything like that.”
“Did he mention whose idea it was?”
She looked puzzled for a second. “I don’t recall discussing it with him specifically, but I got the impression that Dunne Development approached him.”
“I understand you own this building. How do you feel about selling it?”
One of her employees walked in the door, interrupting before she could answer.
“Excuse me, Novie, there seems to be a problem with the soda order. What’s being delivered isn’t what was ordered, and Mike wants you to talk
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