“And what’s taking their place?” Tori asked, grabbing a Lotus Inn mug from the cupboard.
“Egg recipes. I suppose I’ll have to offer Eggs Benedict—I mean, doesn’t every B and B present that?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve only been to one B and B. Our dry run tomorrow will make that two. You are offering Anissa and me breakfast, right?” Tori asked and poured the tea.
Kathy picked up her coffee cup and took a sip. “Of course. It wouldn’t be a dry run without it.”
Kathy pulled out a piece of notebook paper from her folder. “I’ve made a list of stuff to get at the grocery store. Half is for here, and half is for Swans Nest. Of course, I’ll cough up for those.”
“Of course,” Tori repeated.
“But I’m buying the stuff for lunch with Noreen, too. And you’re welcome to join us.”
“I’m pretty sure I heard my name mentioned when you talked to Noreen,” Tori said.
Kathy nodded and offered a smile. “It didn’t hurt to say it out loud.”
Tori poured milk into her tea, took out a spoon from the drawer, and stirred it. “Tom’s Grocery opens in less than an hour.”
“Yeah. I’d better get showered and dressed. I want to be early so that I have time to pull something together for lunch.”
“Are you going to make tea sandwiches and scones?”
Kathy shook her head. “Not enough time. I thought I’d make a quiche, have a nice side salad, and defrost a bunch of cookies. I’ve got a punch recipe I want to try, too.”
“I thought you said something about mimosas. It might take liquor to get Noreen to talk about Paul’s past.”
“I thought of that. We should make a quick stop at the liquor store before we head home.”
“Can do.”
“Great, now that that’s settled, I’m going to get ready. Eat up and then you can hop in the shower.”
After Kathy had left the room, Tori caught sight of the contract Rick Shepherd had sent. She picked it up and leafed through the pages. The more she studied it, the more she was determined not to enter into a business deal with the local mogul. She set it down and looked out the back door’s window. The sun was shining and the big plastic thermometer that hung from the Siberian elm in the yard said it was already near fifty. It would be a warm day in April—they hadn’t had nearly enough of them yet. Maybe she’d open the shop and take her jewelry-making equipment out there. That’s where she intended to do most of the pendant creation, anyway. It would be a dry run for her to see if the shop could double as her studio. She smiled. Studio. She liked the sound of that. Now to hope she’d have talent when it came to actually making the necklaces.
The shopping trip went well and they made their stops at the grocery and liquor stores and still managed to be on the road for home just after nine. Tori stopped at Swans Nest and helped Kathy take in the groceries before she headed for the compound. But when she pulled up by the house, there were two familiar cars in the lot.
Damn! Amber and Rick Shepherd had returned—and why had they arrived so early and apparently at the same time?
Not seeing the pair, Tori still had to contend with a frozen pizza, veggies, and milk. She slammed them into the fridge and freezer and hurried outside. There was no sign of the intruders by The Lotus Lodge, so that meant they had to be either by the bait shop or the boathouse.
The shop was still locked, but the door to the boathouse was open, and Tori heard voices as she approached.
“Excuse me,” she called in the open doorway.
“Tori,” Amber said, in the same simpering tone Irene employed. “I was just having a nice little chat with your new business partner.”
“What are you doing here, Amber?”
“Just another friendly visit. How lovely that I was able to meet Rick. We’re becoming fast friends.”
“Yes, we are,” Shepherd agreed. “I was just telling your cousin my plans for this boathouse.”
“Were you?” Tori asked, unable to keep an edge from entering her tone.
“A combination great room and kitchen with stainless steel appliances and granite countertops that opens to a big deck overlooking the bay. Some built-ins for storage and a covered bar will have guests swooning. Then in the loft, we’ll add an outstanding bedroom suite with a big picture window so guests can watch the sun set and gaze at the stars at night.”
Tori had had thoughts along those lines, too, but she wasn’t about to voice them then. “What can I do for you, Mr. Shepherd?”
“I came to see why I hadn’t heard from you.”
“You could have called.”
“I was on my way to check on another of my properties—” Talk about presumptuous! “—and thought I’d just stop by.”
Tori bit her tongue to keep from commenting.
“And I’m learning so much about partnerships,” Amber said.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” Tori countered bluntly.
“I called in sick. I needed a mental health day.” Amber gave a feeble laugh.
Tori wasn’t amused.
“So what do you think of my proposal?” Shepherd asked.
“I’ve read it over a couple of times,” Tori said, hedging.
Shepherd’s smile was oily. “Great.” He reached into his inner suit coat pocket and withdrew a pen. “Then let’s seal the deal.”
“I haven’t made a decision. I need to talk to my business consultant about it.”
“And who would that be?” Amber asked sourly.
“You wouldn’t know her. Like Mr. Shepherd, she also owns a number of properties and businesses here in Ward County. I’m sure you’ve heard the Bloomfield name before, Mr. Shepherd.”
Shepherd’s smile evaporated. “Yes,” he said tersely, and he definitely wasn’t pleased.
“Lucinda Bloomfield has volunteered to act as my mentor,” Tori continued.
“Which means Tori’s too wishy-washy—or just plain stupid—to make her own decisions,” Amber volunteered.
“I wouldn’t put much stock in what the local slumlord has to say,” Shepherd grated.
Shepherd was the second man to intimate that Lucinda was a hard-hearted bitch when it came to collecting her rents. But Tori wasn’t sure about that. It was easy to denigrate someone; much harder to probe for better answers about their actions and motivations.
“Did you have a deadline in mind for my decision, Mr. Shepherd?”
“Call me Rick,” Shepherd said for at least the tenth time. “Yes. If we’re to get this property up and running by the Fourth of July, you need to sign that agreement by Monday.”
“What happens then?” she asked, wondering if the compound would suddenly burst into flames or sink into the bay forever. “And if I don’t?” she added.
Shepherd’s eyes narrowed. “I’m a very busy man, Ms. Cannon. I’ve made you an extremely generous offer. You’d be wise to accept it.”
Or what? Tori was tempted to push. If Shepherd thought he could intimidate her, he had another thing coming.
“Or it’s null and void, and you’d be making a very big mistake.”
Tori frowned. “That almost sounds like a threat, Mr. Shepherd.”
Shepherd’s eyes narrowed. “Take it any way you want, Ms. Cannon.”
20
Tori watched as Shepherd’s Mercedes pulled out of the compound’s lot and onto Resort Road to head west on the highway. That was one pain in the neck gone, but there was still Amber to contend with. Tori turned to face her cousin.
“What are you doing here?”
“You changed the locks on the house,” Amber said, not sounding at all pleased.
“Of course I did—to keep you out.”
“That wasn’t very friendly.”
“You’re not my friend.”
“I’m your family—and you haven’t got much.”
“More than I need right now.”
“If you want to know the truth, I’m scouting out a property here on Lotus Ba
y.”
“What for?” The last thing Tori needed was for Amber to become a neighbor.
“None of your business.”
“Fair enough. And my business isn’t your business, either. Please leave. And don’t come back.”
“Oh, I’ll be back. Guaranteed,” Amber said and stalked off toward her car. She got in, started the engine, and hit the gas, sending gravel flying as she took off.
Tori watched until the little white car had disappeared before she reentered the house. The first thing she needed to do was call her grandfather and tell him about her visitor before Amber had a chance—putting the wrong spin on the impromptu meeting. But when she punched in the number on the landline, it rang and rang. That was odd. Her grandfather had an old-fashioned answering machine because he couldn’t figure out voice mail. Usually, the machine picked up calls after the fourth ring.
Tori replaced the receiver and looked at the clock on the wall. It was getting close to nine-thirty. Herb and Irene had probably gone out to breakfast. The old man hadn’t had two nickels to rub together for most of his life, but since winning the lottery the previous summer, he’d been living high on the hog. Of course, his version of that meant eating at diners and maybe getting a beer, not five-star restaurants with tablecloths and a maître d’. She’d try to call again in an hour or so.
In the meantime, she collected her jewelry-making equipment and took it out to the bait shop, along with her laptop. She’d play with the silver tape and soldering gun to see if she could make a decent join. She might have to do it several times before she got the hang of it. So be it. Maybe she’d have her first necklace finished to show Kathy and Noreen come lunchtime. At least, that was her plan.
Before she sat down on the stool behind the counter, Tori switched on the shop’s glowing Open sign. She was officially ready for business. Now all she needed were customers.
It didn’t take long.
The sound of a motor broke the quiet and Tori looked up to see Dickie Sanderson’s fishing boat tie up to his slip at the dock. The engine hadn’t sounded quite right and Dickie pulled up the ten-horse-power Mercury motor and began to tinker with it. Tori went back to her soldering iron and prettied up the seam, pleased with her work. By the time she looked up again, she saw Dickie headed toward the shop.
“Hey, Dickie—what’s up?”
“Aw,” and then he let loose with a string of profanity, the gist of which pertained to the prop from his motor and the big chunk of metal that was missing from it.
“How’d that happen? Did you hit a rock?”
“No—something a lot bigger. I think there’s a car sunk in the bay not far from Falcon Island.”
“A car?” Tori asked.
“Something pretty big. I poked at it with an oar.”
“Did you report it to the Sheriff’s Department?”
“Yeah. Someone came out and took a look, but I didn’t hang around to find out more. I need to get this prop replaced. My brother’s coming down tomorrow and expects to get in some bass fishing.”
“Well good luck with that,” Tori said and watched as Dickie headed toward the compound’s parking lot.
She took out her crimpers and started to cut another section of flowers from one of her broken plates. A sunken car.
Nobody had mentioned whatever happened to Mark Charles’s truck. Could that be what was sitting in the mud at the bottom of the bay? Did someone run it off the Falcon Island bluff? Could Mark Charles have been in it at the time? If someone had wanted to make him disappear, at least for a few months, they might have rolled down the windows so the truck would sink faster and then eventually the body inside could have floated out.
The very idea gave her the willies. The fact it was plausible, even more so.
Kathy fussed at the dining room table, rearranging forks, and adjusting the napkins folded in a Bishop’s Miter on top of each plate. It was too bad she hadn’t thought to stop at the florist to get a small arrangement for the table. Still, the large silver bowl filled with apples looked adorable, and everything else looked as pretty as she could make it, from the vintage table linens she had lovingly ironed to the polished silver, and pretty china settings. The house smelled like baking, thanks to the quiche in one oven and homemade Parker House rolls in the other.
Kathy glanced at her watch. Noreen was late—only by five minutes—but Kathy wondered if she might have changed her mind about attending the somewhat spur-of-the-moment luncheon. If nothing else, Kathy and Tori could feast on something better than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or more mac and cheese.
The doorbell rang and Kathy glanced in the mirror over the sideboard to check her hair—perfect—then hurried to answer the door.
“Hey, Noreen, come on in. I’m glad you could make it.”
Noreen’s usual attire was one of The Bay Bar T-shirts and jeans, but that afternoon she’d donned dark slacks, a black blouse, and matching sweater, and wore silver jewelry—rings, necklace, and bracelets. Good grief! She looked like she’d just come from a funeral.
“Can I take your sweater?”
“No, I’m fine,” Noreen said, looking around the foyer. She’d seen it before—from the wreck it had been on the day Kathy had taken possession of the property, through months of refurbishment and restoration, but she hadn’t been inside the house in almost two months. “Would you like the grand tour now that it’s finished?”
“I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting seven months to show it off.”
Noreen had already seen the first floor, so Kathy started the tour in the basement, which was totally unlike the rest of the home’s early twentieth century charm. Instead, it was like a modern-day family room, with a large sectional with cream-colored slipcovers. It was a risk going with lighter shades on the Berber carpet and furniture, but since all of it was washable, it helped to brighten what could have been a dark and depressing place. A large-screen television took up the west wall, and a polished oak bar with six stools lined the south wall. Behind the couch was a table, and bookshelves stood nearby filled with board games, bestsellers, and folk art pieces she and Tori had found the previous summer when scouting yard sales and auctions.
“Wow—you really nailed this room.”
Kathy practically beamed. “I’m glad you like it. I hope my guests will, too.”
Noreen bit her lip but said nothing.
“The mechanical room is over here,” Kathy said, throwing open a door. “Anissa did a heck of a job pulling everything together, from the tankless water heater to coordinating with the HVAC guys. She did all the plumbing. The inspector was very impressed.”
“She’s a chip off the old block,” Noreen agreed. “Her father was so talented.”
“I couldn’t have accomplished all this without her. Come on, I want to show you the second floor.”
Again, Noreen seemed to stiffen. That was where the vandalism had taken place. For a moment Kathy thought she’d beg off that portion of the tour, but then Noreen waved a hand in the direction of the stairs. “Lead the way.”
At the top of the stairs, Kathy held out a hand to direct her guest toward the first of the three guest rooms. “This is the Lilac Room, so named because of the lilac bushes that separate our properties. I can’t wait to see them in bloom in a couple of weeks.”
“You’ll be grateful for the foliage to help deaden the sound of our jukebox,” Noreen said.
“To be honest, Anissa and I took that into consideration when we repaired the walls. We added in soundproofing. I just hope it’s enough.”
“We usually turn the jukebox down around eleven—if that helps.”
Kathy sure hoped it would.
Staying with the floral theme, the Lilac Room sported pastel purple walls, and one wall was covered in a lilac wallpaper in tones of gray and white. Coordinating fabric covered the bed and shams, and antique furnishings looked quaint, but not precious. A digital clock sat
atop the nightstand on the left side of the bed, and a vase of faux lilacs graced the other.
The bathroom was a little tight, but Anissa had managed to squeeze in a slipper tub. As a good innkeeper, Kathy had tried it out and could attest that it was pure bliss to soak in.
Next up was the Daisy Room.
“Isn’t that the name of Tori’s cat?” Noreen asked.
“Yes, but it’s the wallpaper that inspired the moniker.” Again, said wallcovering had been used as an accent, and the rest of the room was an antique white with vintage oak furnishings. Its bathroom was larger, and a little more luxurious, which meant that Kathy could charge that much more for it.
“Wow,” Noreen said. “I wish my bathroom was this nice.”
Kathy felt the same way. The bathroom at Tori’s house was cramped and shabby, straight out of 1952 with plastic pink tiles with a black border. Tori had no money to upgrade it and until Kathy could build onto the back of Swans Nest to create her own home, she would have to be content squatting at the little bungalow on the Cannon Compound. Still, she was grateful that Tori had never asked her for a cent for her keep during the past ten months. She wasn’t sure she would ever be able to repay her friend for the kindnesses she’d been shown.
Kathy pointed Noreen toward the last of the finished bedrooms. She hoped to turn the attic into a gorgeous master suite, but that wouldn’t happen until she had a successful season or two under her belt. Still, the infrastructure was there for a sumptuous bathroom and bedroom with dormers that overlooked Lotus Bay to the north. One day Kathy thought and sighed.
Noreen looked around the newly reconstructed room. Her lower lip trembled before she spoke. “Is this where…?” But she couldn’t seem to form the words to complete the sentence.
Kathy nodded. “We don’t need to talk about it.”
“Well, I think we do.” Noreen swallowed, and her eyes filled with tears. “I contacted my customer who vouched for your first guests.”
When Noreen didn’t say more, Kathy asked, ”And?”
A Reel Catch Page 14
