A Reel Catch

by Lorraine Bartlett

  Tori found her hands were shaking as she pulled out her phone and stabbed at a name on her contacts list. “Anissa, how fast can you install a couple of new locks?”

  Anissa turned the last screw on the spring latch for the shiny new polished nickel lock on Tori’s front door. She’d already installed a deadbolt lock, but somehow Tori still felt uneasy.

  Anissa stood. “That should do it. Why didn’t you think to change the locks before this?”

  “It never occurred to me that anyone would violate my home,” she said. “Especially a family member.” Tori held out a duplicate set of keys.

  “What’s that for?”

  “You.”

  “You’re giving me a set of keys to your house?”

  “I trust you. I can’t say the same for most of the rest of my family.”

  Anissa shook her head. “No. I wouldn’t feel right about it.”

  Tori stuffed the keys back in her jeans pocket. At the very least, she needed to give Kathy a new set.

  “How long do you think your cousin was nosing around the place before you got here?”

  “Five or ten minutes. I bought new locks for the bait shop, and the boathouse, too. I suppose I should think about replacing the locks on The Lotus Lodge as well. I wouldn’t want somebody to access the rooms and trash them.”

  “Honey, if someone is determined to get inside, locks won’t keep them out,” Anissa said.

  That statement didn’t make Tori feel any better about her sense of violation.

  “Are you going to tell your Gramps about this?” Anissa asked.

  She shrugged. “It might sound like sour grapes.”

  “On whose part? You or your cousin?”

  “Me.”

  “There’s probably a reason he didn’t give money to any of your other relatives. From what you’ve said, they kind of abandoned him and your grandma. I wouldn’t feel any loyalty to people like that, either.”

  Although Anissa and her brother, James, had both inherited their late father’s house, James had no problem with Anissa living there. He’d come out to have a look at the updates she’d made to the outside of the home, and they had an agreement that once she was on a better financial footing, she could buy him out for less than half the appraised value of the home. He was a good guy—an oral surgeon with a very successful practice—and he only wanted the best for his sister.

  Since Amber had blatantly trespassed on her property, Tori couldn’t say the same for her family and felt infinite sadness. Did her aunt and uncle—and her own parents—feel the same anger as Amber? They rarely called her, and she didn’t think to contact them much, either.

  The truth was, Tori had felt much closer to her grandma and grandpa than her own parents and that had always felt wrong. Shouldn’t she have a stronger bond with the people responsible for her birth? And yet … she didn’t. She’d only ever felt connected to Lotus Bay—to this place and the two people who had made her feel loved and valued. Especially her grandma, who had loved her unconditionally. Unconditionally. And after she—and Kathy—had worked so hard to resurrect the dying business, her grandfather had gifted her with the house—home—she’d always loved.

  Anissa packed up her tools. “You’re good to go.”

  Tori smiled. “More like stay—and hopefully safe.”

  “If your cousin returns, she might not be happy to find she can’t come and go in as she pleases.”

  “Too bad. Because if she trespasses again, I will call the Sheriff’s Department.”

  “That might make things worse.”

  Tori shrugged. “I don’t need mean-spirited people like Amber in my life.” She smiled. “Not when I have you and Kathy around.”

  Anissa’s brown eyes seemed to twinkle. “You are one lucky woman.”

  Tori’s grin widened. “Yeah. I am.”

  Tori was poking around in the refrigerator, trying to work up some enthusiasm for making their evening meal when a rattle at the door, and then a sharp knock sounded. She opened the door to a tired and dispirited looking Kathy.

  “What’s with locking up the place when you’re here?” Kathy asked and hung up her jacket on a hook by the door. Earlier, Tori had called to tell Kathy about Amber’s visit.

  “After what happened this morning, I just felt safer.” She reached in her jeans pocket and pulled out the new set of keys, handing them to Kathy. “Here. I meant to come over to your house, but then I remembered I hadn’t closed the shop, and then I got distracted—”

  Kathy held up a hand to cut off the rest of the explanation. Instead, she made a beeline for the table, taking her usual seat. Pulling out her own set of keys, she picked out one and began the process of extracting it from her ring.

  “What do you want for supper?”

  “I’m too tired to cook. Why don’t we do a Herb Cannon special; scrambled eggs and toast.”

  Tori shrugged. She wasn’t interested in anything more elaborate, either. She took her own seat. “What did you find out about your trashy guests?”

  “Not much.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s no record of them. It turns out the credit card they used was stolen. It initially went through—until the real owner was alerted to the charge—which I didn’t hear about until I started poking around.”

  “What about the license plate on their motorcycle?”

  “I never saw it myself. What they wrote in my register was totally bogus.”

  Tori’s stomach did a flip-flop. “Geeze, Kath, I’m so sorry.”

  “No sorrier than me.” She shook her head and began taking the second key from the ring. “It’s totally my fault. I should have never let them stay.”

  “Yeah, but didn’t Noreen say she could vouch for them?”

  “No, she said her guests could vouch for them. Thanks to this unfortunate experience, I’ve learned a valuable lesson early on: to never accept a guest I don’t personally vet.”

  “What are you going to say to Noreen?”

  “Nothing. She would never have steered them my way if she thought they were deadbeats.”

  “Not only deadbeats but vandals.”

  “Yeah, that, too,” Kathy admitted. She seemed to shake herself. “But I can’t dwell on that. I have to move forward. I have guests coming in far-too-short a timeframe. I need to be ready.”

  “And you will be,” Tori reiterated.

  Tori made their dinner with an eye to the clock. It was almost time to make her weekly call to her grandfather.

  Since she had cooked, it was Kathy’s turn to clean up and Tori left the kitchen and headed for her bedroom where she’d make her call. She’d installed a small wingback chair that had seen happier days, but since her cat, Daisy, was napping on it, she sat on the edge of her bed, scrolled through her phone’s contacts, and tapped her grandfather’s number. He answered it on the second ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Gramps, it’s Tori.”

  “Right on time,” Herb said, sounding pleased. “What’s up in your neck of the woods?”

  “Oh, not a whole lot,” she fibbed. “The weather’s still raw, and there haven’t been many customers at the bait shop, but that’ll change come Memorial Day.”

  “It always does,” Herb said.

  “How are things in sunny Florida?”

  “Hot. I didn’t realize I’d be frying so early in the spring.”

  “You’re a long way from western New York, Gramps.”

  “Yeah, and I was surprised that your cousin Amber tracked me down.”

  Tori closed her eyes and grimaced. “Did she?”

  “Uh-huh. And she seemed to be on a fishing expedition.”

  “Not for marlin.”

  “No. She was as sweet as pie and even asked if she could come down here to visit us.”

  “And what did you tell her?” Tori asked, deliberately keeping her tone neutral.

  “That I don’t have a guest room,” he said grimly.

&
nbsp; Tori couldn’t help but smile. “She came to visit me, too. In fact, I was out in the shop at the time, but she had a key and I found her rummaging around in the house.”

  “A key? She must have got it from her mother. Did she steal anything from you?” Herb asked, his voice hard.

  “Not that I could see.”

  “I probably shouldn’t say this, but I never was fond of that girl. She’s got a ’tude. Always has.” Tori pictured her grandfather shaking his head.

  “I noticed that, too. She seemed very unhappy that you let me buy the bait shop.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “I changed the locks, but Anissa said a determined person will find a way to get inside if they really want to.”

  “That’s true. Do you think she’ll be back?”

  “I hope not. I mean…I really don’t think I have anything she might want.”

  “But she might want to deprive you of what you’ve already got,” Herb said tartly.

  It wasn’t a pleasant thought.

  He changed the subject. “What’s this about you and Kathy finding a dead guy on Kathy’s property?”

  Tori cringed. “Uh, you heard about that?”

  “You’re not the only person on the bay who calls us, you know.”

  It had to have been one of Irene’s friends. Herb wasn’t known to be a chatterbox when it came to making calls.

  “So what’s the story?” he pressed.

  “They think he drowned. Maybe a fisherman or a hunter. He’d been in the water a long time.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Finding him was pretty nasty, but we’re okay,” she assured him, which gave her an opportunity to tell him about Kathy’s problems with Swans Nest, but not mentioning her encounter with Rick Shepherd. She could guess what his reaction might be—and she didn’t want to discuss it.

  “I miss you, Gramps. Will you come back up to visit this summer?”

  “How can I? You moved into my old bedroom. Kathy’s got your dad’s old room, and you made the other bedroom into an office.”

  “I will always make room for you, Gramps.”

  “I know it, honey. Let me think on it. Irene wants to see her grandkids, so maybe we will come and visit once the weather warms up.”

  “There will always be a place for you here on Lotus Bay,” Tori promised—and she meant it.

  8

  It was still dark out when Tori awoke the next morning. She’d gotten used to the phone ringing at just after five in the morning, alerting her as to where she’d be substitute teaching on any given day. She averaged three or four days a week and had even gotten a couple of one, two, and even one four-week gig when a teacher came down with the flu or was out for surgery. But despite waking in anticipation of gainful employment, the phone hadn’t rung on that Monday morning. By six, Tori was in the kitchen, boiling water for a pot of tea, had fed her own and Kathy’s cats, and was contemplating what to have for breakfast when a sleepy-eyed Kathy joined her.

  “No work today?”

  “No,” Tori said, “which means I’m yours all day. We can strip wallpaper, wash walls, or anything else you need help with.”

  “And I’ll be eternally grateful,” Kathy said. She said that a lot and Tori had no doubt of it. The truth was, Kathy had been living rent-free in the guest room of the little bungalow on the Cannon Compound, while Tori supported the two of them via substitute teaching. That sounded pretty generous until Tori factored in the work Kathy did around the place, which was spotless, and the laundry was never piled up, either. And despite working for eight or more hours a day at Swans Nest, Kathy often managed to have a tasty meal on the table for the two of them—and many times, Anissa, too.

  “You’re not opening the shop?”

  “If I was teaching, I wouldn’t anyway. Weekdays are dead this time of year. Don across the bridge can pick up the slack.”

  Kathy nodded, but her head was hanging and she looked whipped as she measured ground coffee, dumping it in the maker’s basket. Tori watched as Kathy filled the pot with water and poured it into the maker’s reservoir.

  “Don’t worry, Kath, we’ll have that room ready and pretty in time for you to open the inn.”

  “I hope so.”

  The kettle, which had reached a boil, clicked off. “Now for the most important decision of the day,” Tori said, changing the subject.

  “And that is?”

  “What to eat for breakfast, of course.”

  When two determined women work together, there is no end to what they can accomplish, and by late afternoon, Kathy and Tori had stripped the wallpaper from the entire damaged room and scrubbed the walls. Afterward, they headed east to Warton to buy the paint and—hopefully—a pretty border to gussy up the now rather boring guest room.

  Tori pulled her pickup into one of the parking spaces in front of Reynold’s Hardware, slammed the gearshift into park and yanked the key from the ignition. “Can your credit card take another charge?” she asked.

  “I sure hope so,” Kathy said, but her tone conveyed her concern.

  “If there’s a problem, I can get it.”

  “Absolutely not. I already owe you the moon.”

  “I don’t think so. And let’s not even talk about it. You’ve got a looming deadline and we’re going to meet it.”

  Kathy allowed herself a smile. “Yeah. I’m crossing my fingers we will.”

  They entered the store and were immediately welcomed by the establishment’s mascot, a rather fat tabby cat.

  “Hello, Winston,” Kathy said and bent down to give the cat a scratch between his ears.

  “Whoa—and it’s our favorite customer,” said Tammy, the cashier. It had been more than a couple of months since the fifty-something salesclerk had dyed her hair, as evidenced by the inch or more of white on either side of her part, but she wasn’t entirely without glam. Her fingernails were polished a bright red, and she wore a silver chain with some kind of an odd-shaped pendant of dainty flowers. “What are you here for today?” she asked Kathy.

  “A gallon of paint and a couple of rolls of wallpaper border,” Kathy said.

  “Well, you know where they are. Just shout if you want assistance. Either Gary or I can help you with anything you need.”

  “Got it,” Kathy said, and she and Tori headed toward the paint and wallpaper section.

  Choosing the paint was easy. Kathy already knew she wanted a warm ivory. Unfortunately, the wallpaper border choices weren’t as expansive. But after pondering the limited stock on hand, Kathy and Tori agreed on a design featuring yellow roses on an arbor that would do in the short term. They brought Kathy’s choices up to the register and Tammy rang them up. Kathy presented her credit card and—thank goodness—the charge went through.

  Tammy handed her the receipt and bagged the rolls of wallpaper border.

  “That’s a pretty necklace you’re wearing,” Tori said.

  Tammy fingered the pendant. “Cute, huh? It’s broken china.”

  “Get out,” Tori said.

  “Oh, I’ve seen them before—in a museum gift shop,” Kathy volunteered.

  “Really?” Tori asked.

  “I got this at the Strawberry Festival last summer. One of the vendors was selling them anywhere from twenty to seventy bucks.”

  “Really?” Tori repeated thoughtfully.

  “Hey, I heard about you guys finding a body in the bay. Hell, just about everybody in the area did,” Tammy said, changing the subject.

  “Yeah,” Kathy admitted, feeling glum.

  “What’s the word on the street?” Tori asked.

  Tammy shrugged. “Some of my customers said they haven’t seen Mark Charles in a while.”

  “He was nobody I’m familiar with,” Tori said, but then until recently, Kathy knew Tori hadn’t been a part of the scenery since she was a tween.

  “He kept to himself for the most part. But he would come into the village every few weeks to stock up on groceries and hit the
pharmacy. He lived over on Falcon Island year-round.”

  “And nobody missed him?” Tori asked.

  Tammy shrugged. “Lots of people around here are snowbirds. I’ve been thinking about trying it myself. If I never had to snow blow my driveway again, I would die a very happy woman.”

  Kathy felt her pain. She hadn’t employed a guy to plow the front of Swans Nest, but she would have to if she hoped to entice customers for certain weekends, like New Year’s, Valentine’s Day, and St. Patrick’s Day visits during the long, cold winter. And, of course, if she could add President’s Day and Easter weekends in the mix, too—all the better. The place would have to have clear parking. Paul and Noreen employed someone to keep their lot clear. Maybe she’d ask them…but not any time soon.

  “What else do you know about this Mark Charles?” Tori asked.

  Tammy shrugged. “Not much. He was real quiet—almost a hermit. He always wore sunglasses and a ball cap pulled down over his eyes. He kind of skulked.”

  “Did he come in here often?” Kathy asked.

  Tammy shook her head. “He’d trade in his propane tanks. Always paid cash for everything.” She frowned.

  “Is that suspicious?” Kathy asked.

  “Used to be everybody paid in cash. These days—not so much. People even charge two or three bucks for stuff. It used to be we had a ten-dollar minimum. Not anymore.” Tammy shook her head, then looked Tori in the eye. “Did you see the guy’s face?”

  “No!” she said emphatically. “Considering he’d been in the water so long, I’m not even sure he had a face.”

  “What did you see?” Tammy asked with keen interest.

  Tori hadn’t really spoken about it. Would she now, just to exorcize the memory once and for all? “I only saw the body’s hand.” She shuddered. “There was still some flesh on the bones—and the sight made me feel sick.”

  “Oh yeah?” Tammy asked eagerly.

  “We really need to get going,” Kathy said tersely, grabbing the bag of merchandise from the sales counter. “Talk to you later.”