No One Else to Kill (Jim West Series) by Bob Doerr

her.”
    “I know you aren’t.   Now get in there and get some sleep.   I’ll wake you up in the morning for breakfast, okay?”
    “Yeah, sure, don’t forget me.”
    I heard a door shut then silence. No one crossed in front
of my door, but that made sense as that direction would have only led to the
stairwell that went to the third floor.
    I used the room phone and called the bar.
    “Bev, this is Jim.   I need a favor.”
    “Well Jim, that sounds nice, but if you need room service
I won’t be off for a couple of hours.”
    “No, just some information.”
    “Oh,” she sounded a little disappointed.
    “Who has the room adjacent to mine?” I gave her my room
number.
    “You know we aren’t supposed to release that information
without permission.”
    “I know.   I’ll make
it up to you,” I said.
    “It may not be safe being in debt to me, Jim.”
    “I’ll risk it.”
    “Let’s see, next door to you is a Thomas Griffith.   Does that mean anything?”
    “Yes, thanks.   I owe
you one.”
    “You do.”
    “Hey how’s Rick doing?   He looked stressed earlier.”
    “Not good, there’s going to be a family meeting tomorrow.”
    “His job on the line?”
    “He thinks so.”
    “Too bad.”
    “You should have come back to the bar.”
    “Why’s that?” I asked.
    “Had some fireworks a little while ago.   Half the hunting group almost got into a
fight with the other half.”
    “Oh yeah?”
    “No hitting or pushing, but things got very vocal.   Just when I thought it might come to blows, a
couple of them got the rest calmed down.”
    “Well, I guess they’re under a lot of stress right now,
too.”
    “Who isn’t?” she asked.
    “Did the Bettes boys show back
up at the bar?”
    “No. I haven’t seen them tonight. I thought the one was
still with the cops.”
    “He’s back.   I saw
him at dinner.”
    “Too bad.”
    “How come?”
    “Well, if he was the murderer and had confessed a lot of
this mess would be over.”
    “True, but I don’t believe he’s our murderer.”
    “You sure you don’t want to come back down for a
drink?   No one’s here now and I’m bored.”
    “Wish I could but I’m already in bed--”
    “Hmmm.”
    “And I need to get up early tomorrow.”
    “Okay.   I guess I’ll
see you tomorrow.”
    We said our goodbyes and hung up.   I could only imagine what caused the fracas
among the hunting group.   Sooner or
later, they had to realize that someone within the group had probably murdered
Benson. While their initial anxiety likely focused on how Benson’s death would
impact each of them and the company, by now the probability that someone in
their own group killed him had to be sinking in.   That acknowledgement would spawn distrust and
fear. Whatever bond they had before would begin to disintegrate.
    I fell asleep dreaming that I was in the hunting group and
that someone else in the group was following me everywhere I went.   I kept looking around trying to find out who
it was but could never see the person’s face.
    The door to the third floor closed with a bang and woke
me.   At least, I awoke thinking that
happened.   I shook my head and listened.
Footsteps went by my door heading away from the stairway to the third floor,
yet I didn’t hear that door open or close.
    My body cursed me as I forced it out of the bed and into
the bathroom.   I splashed cold water on
my face and tried to wash off the hold sleep had over me. I put my jeans back
on and went out into the hall. I saw no one and heard nothing out of the
ordinary. Entering the stairwell to the third floor, I made sure the door
closed quietly behind me.   Nothing but
the buzzing of an overhead fluorescent light broke the peace and quiet. I
climbed the stairs and slowly opened the door to the third floor.   If anyone remained up here I didn’t want them
to know of my presence.   Although I had
only seen a couple of workers during the day, all the ladders had been removed
from the third