The same number that had been running in circles in his head since last night.
She couldn’t get that much for the Harp.
Could she?
One of the big retailers would pay a hefty premium to get a foothold in Otter Tail.
Shutting the lid of the laptop, he stood and walked to the bar, pouring another cup of coffee. It was going to be a long day.
The front door opened and Paul Black walked in. “Hey, Quinn.”
“Paul. What’s up?”
The attorney eased onto a stool. “I heard the news. That the cute redhead owns this place, and she’s looking to make a bundle of money.”
“I bet Ted Bartlett couldn’t wait to spread that gossip.” Quinn jerked his head at the coffeepot. “Want a cup?”
“Sure.” Paul waited until Quinn handed it to him. “I’ve been elected to talk to you.”
“What do you mean?”
Paul cupped his hands around the mug. “Everyone in town’s upset. They think the redhead is going to sell this place to some company that’ll tear it down and put up a big box store.”
“She’s talking to Laura today.”
“Laura?” Paul’s face tightened. “She’s probably on Gordon’s side.”
“Why would you think that?”
“She’s Ms. Ambition. Ms. Straight Arrow.”
“What do you have against Laura?” Quinn studied his friend.
“Forget her.” Paul shifted on the bar stool and blew on the coffee. “What are you going to do about the Harp?”
“What can I do? I’ve made an offer. Maddie says it’s too low.”
“Is that all you’re going to do? Say ‘too bad, I can’t give her the money she wants’?” Paul scowled at him. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What am I supposed to do? I can’t force her to take my offer.”
“Quinn, I know you’re big on not getting involved. You like standing off to the side.” He pushed the mug back and forth, careful not to spill a drop. “But you can’t just stand there this time. You have to do something. You can’t let her sell it out from under you. Otter Tail needs the Harp.”
Quinn needed the Harp, too. Unfortunately, Paul was saying exactly what he’d tried to ignore since last night. If he didn’t want this pub, his lifeline, to disappear, he’d have to get involved. No matter how much he wanted to stand on the sidelines, he had no choice. “How exactly am I supposed to do that? I’m sure you have ideas.”
“Talk to Laura. Maybe she’ll stall Maddie until we can figure something out.”
“What’s this ‘we’? Last time I looked, it was my money on the line.”
“But it’s the town’s pub,” Paul said. “The town’s gathering place. And if you want to keep it, you’re going to have to fight for it. We can help you.”
“I’m not much of a fighter these days,” Quinn said.
“Some things are worth fighting for.” His friend took a last gulp of his coffee and pushed away from the bar. “Do something, Quinn.”
Quinn watched Paul walk out the door into the summer sunshine. The Harp was important to him. More important than anyone knew.
Paul was right. Some things were worth fighting for.
He grabbed his phone and scrolled down to the number he wanted, then pushed the button. “Laura? This is Quinn. I need a favor.”
CHAPTER THREE
THE LUNCH RUSH was tapering off when Maddie opened the door to the Cherry Tree Diner the next afternoon. Laura had told her she was working out of her home while the office was painted. The bell on the door tinkled and Maddie walked into a memory.
The place had aged, but very little had changed in fifteen years. The blue vinyl of the booths had cracked and peeled, the chrome on the stools that lined the counter was duller and tarnished, and the pictures on the wall were more faded.
Other than that, it was like stepping back in time. And Laura had been right, Maddie saw with relief. There were few customers now. They’d have plenty of privacy to talk.
One of the waitresses wandered by with a pot of coffee. “Go ahead and seat yourself, hon. Menus are on the table.”
The corner booth was empty, and Maddie slid in. “Coffee?” A different waitress stood next to her, also holding a coffeepot.
Another cup and her hands would be shaking, but she said, “Please,” and pushed the mug at her place setting toward the woman, who promptly filled it.
“Are you ready to order?”
“I’m meeting someone. I’ll wait until she gets here, if that’s okay.”
“No problem.” Instead of leaving, the waitress studied her. “Linnie?” she said softly.
Maddie looked up sharply. The woman’s dishwater-blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and the pink lipstick she wore was mostly chewed off. Her hazel eyes were shrewd as she studied Maddie.
“It is you,” she said.
Maddie glanced at her name tag. Jen. She looked back at the woman’s face and froze. Jen Horton. Star athlete at Otter Tail High. Blonde bombshell. And dating the most popular guy in town.
She’d been at that party fifteen years ago, too.
“Jen Horton, right? I can’t believe you recognized me,” Maddie said.
“Jen Summers now.” She smiled. “You wait tables as long as I have, you get good with faces and names.”
“I’m impressed.” Especially because she looked very different than she had in high school. “Except my name isn’t Linnie.”
Jen raised her eyebrows. “You used an alias when you were sixteen?”
Maddie relaxed. Apparently Jen didn’t remember what had happened at that party so long ago. “No,” she said with a smile. “I’m Maddie, short for Madeline. My cousin called me Linnie when I was a kid, and it stuck.”
“Until you transformed from an ugly duckling into a swan and changed your name to go along with it.”
“I don’t know about the swan part, but college seemed like the perfect time to start over. So I began using Maddie.”
“Okay, then, Maddie it is.” Jen set the coffeepot on the table. “So you’re the one who inherited David Temple’s property.”
“How did you know that?”
Jen snorted. “This is Otter Tail.”
“I can’t believe Quinn spread that around.”
“Quinn? Mr. Closemouthed? The original island? Of course not.” Jen grinned again. “Ted Bartlett cleans the pub for him. He overheard you two talking.”
Maddie vaguely remembered a short, older man sweeping the floor last night. “So now everyone in town knows.”
“Oh, yeah. And no one’s going to be shy about telling you what they think.”
“Which is…?”
“Sell it to Quinn. David promised it to him, after all.” Jen frowned. “We’ve all wondered why he didn’t do it before he died.”
Maddie had no idea, but maybe she would have, if she’d visited David before he died. She felt guilty all over again. She’d been too caught up in her own problems in Chicago. “I’m meeting Laura Taylor here. I’m sure she’ll be glad to take Quinn’s offer under consideration.”
Jen’s eyes brightened. “He’s already made an offer?”
“When he makes it,” Maddie said. Time to change the subject. “What have you been up to since high school?”
“Don’t you mean how did I end up working in this dump in Otter Tail?” Jen’s smile took the bite out of the words. “I ask myself the same question every day. It’s the usual story. I got pregnant when I was eighteen, so instead of going to college, I got married and had two kids by the time I was twenty. Do you remember Tony Summers?”
Maddie struggled to recall the guy.
“We ended up divorced, and I moved back here so my parents could help me with the boys. How about you?”
“I’m a reporter,” Maddie said lightly, although she clenched her hands beneath the table. She wasn’t about to tell Jen, Ms. Popularity, that she’d been fired.
“So you’re here to sett
le David’s estate?” Jen rested her hip against the booth, settling in.
“And visit.” Since she had nowhere else to go after she’d had to sell her condo in Chicago. “Otter Tail’s a nice town.”
“I like it, but I never thought you did.” She studied Maddie. “All the kids thought you were a stuck-up city girl. I guess we were wrong.”
“Tastes change.”
Jen glanced at her watch and stepped away. “My shift is over. I promised the boys we’d go into Sturgeon Falls this afternoon.” She smiled, and the years fell away. Once again, Jen was the cool, gorgeous kid Maddie remembered. “See you around, Maddie-not-Linnie.”
Maddie watched the other woman walk out the door. Fifteen years ago, she would never have imagined having a conversation with Jen Horton. Maybe even making friends with her.
A lot of things were different now.
Ten minutes after Jen left, another blonde around Maddie’s age walked into the diner. Her smooth bob touched her shoulders and she wore a red business suit. Not exactly what she expected in Otter Tail.
This couldn’t be anyone but the Realtor.
She stood and walked toward the woman, who asked, “Maddie?”
“Yes. You must be Laura. Nice to meet you.”
As they slid into the booth, they took each other’s measure. Deciding how to begin.
Maddie jumped right in. “I need to sell the pub. As soon as possible.”
Laura sat back on the vinyl seat. “That’s blunt.”
“I don’t have time to play games. I need money, and I need it fast.”
A tiny line appeared between Laura’s eyebrows. “Mind if I ask why?”
“It’s personal, and it’s not important to anyone but me.” She moved the napkin-wrapped silverware from one side of the table to the other. “It shouldn’t affect negotiations.”
“That’s not true,” Laura said carefully. “For instance, do you have a deadline? That could affect closing dates, and influence which offer you choose.”
“You think there are going to be multiple offers?”
“I’m speaking hypothetically,” she replied. “It’s best to know every detail when selling property. There’s a lot at stake.”
“The only important thing is that I need to get as much money as possible out of the pub.”
“What about the house? Are you selling that, too?”
That had been the plan, but Maddie had been swallowed by memories when she walked into the place last night. “It depends on what I can get for the pub.”
“All right.” Laura folded her hands and smiled at the older waitress approaching the booth. “Hi, Vonnie. Could I have a cup of tea, please?”
“I think we have a few of your bags left.”
After the waitress left, Maddie asked, “This place keeps special tea bags for you?”
Laura nodded. “I give them a supply. It’s easier than trying to remember to bring one with me.” She waited until Vonnie returned with a pot of hot water and what looked like a homemade tea bag. “Here are some comps of recent businesses that have sold in Otter Tail. I thought you might like to look through them.”
She handed over several sheets of paper, then sipped her tea while Maddie studied them. “None of these is similar to the Harp and Halo,” Maddie finally said. The comps included a motel, an old hardware store in the middle of a block of buildings, and a bait-and-tackle shop near the mouth of the river. They were all listed prices far below what she needed to get for the Harp.
Laura shrugged. “Otter Tail is a small town. Our commercial properties don’t turn over quickly.”
“Maybe we need comps from other towns in the area,” Maddie suggested.
“I can do that.” She sipped her tea again. “They won’t be as helpful, though. It’s hard to compare prices in different places.”
“What’s the bottom line here, Laura? How much can I expect to get?”
The Realtor centered her mug in front of her. “That depends on who you want to sell it to,” she finally answered. “Quinn Murphy is the obvious buyer. I’m sure he’s interested—David had promised to sell it to him. He’d expect to pay between $275,000 and $350,000.” She shrugged. “We could probably find someone willing to pay more. Someone who’d tear the place down. There are a number of retailers who’d love to get a foothold in Door County. Many areas have strict regulations about the kind of businesses they want.”
She made it sound as if selling to a big company would bring the scum of the earth into Otter Tail. Why should Maddie care who bought the property? She wouldn’t be here to be affected. “How much could I get if I sold it to a chain store?”
Laura’s expression was neutral, but her stiff shoulders indicated her distaste. “I’ll have to research it. I haven’t dealt with that kind of prospect. If we’re going in that direction, the timing of the sale might be a problem, too. We’re at the end of summer. A retailer would be more willing to buy in the winter, so it could build and have a store open by the following year’s tourist season.”
“You’re telling me if I need more than Quinn’s willing to offer, I’ll have to wait until next spring?” Maddie clenched her hands tightly. She couldn’t do that.
“We’ll try, of course,” Laura said delicately. “I’ll be happy to list it for you, and I’ll do my best to get your price. But you have to be prepared for a wait.” She smiled. “I want to be up-front with you, Maddie.”
“Go ahead and list it.”
“Fine. I’ll get a contract drawn up.” She set her tea down. “I’d suggest a preliminary inspection, too. Buyers like to know about any problems right away.”
“I thought Quinn just built the pub a couple of years ago.”
“He did, but things can go wrong. He did a lot of the work himself and…” She paused. “Well. We’d want to make sure he did everything right.”
Why would the Realtor think Quinn had made mistakes? “How much would an inspection cost?”
“It’s around $400. Then, of course, you’d have to either fix what was wrong, or disclose it to any potential buyers.”
“I suppose it’s a good idea,” Maddie said reluctantly.
“Shall I have Quinn set up an appointment with an inspector? There’s a firm in Sturgeon Falls we generally use.”
“Fine. Let me know when it’s going to be done. I’d like to be there.”
“I will, Maddie. I want us to be on the same page, every step of the way.” Laura picked up the check and slid out of the booth. “I’ll be in touch.”
Maddie watched her go, grimacing as she took a sip of her now-cold coffee. The Realtor had been professional, friendly and helpful. She’d been willing to look for a buyer who would pay top dollar for the pub, even though she clearly preferred to have Quinn buy the place.
So why did Maddie have a bad feeling about this?
CHAPTER FOUR
“WHAT DID YOU DO, Quinn?” Laura asked. The Realtor strolled through the pub, touching the tiny holes in the wall around the dartboard, rocking one of the tables to make sure it was solid, and brushing the torn seat of a stool.
“What do you mean?” He poured hot water into a stainless steel tea pot and set it on the bar, along with one of Laura’s tea bags, then watched as she scribbled in a small notebook. “You think I made those tables wobble and tore the vinyl there? Hell, they’ve been that way for a long time. But I’d gladly rip a few cushions and kick a couple of table legs if it would lower the price.”
“I’m not talking about the furnishings. Those are backups, in case the inspector doesn’t find anything else. Did you mess with something big?” Her gaze swept the empty room. The afternoon sunlight highlighted the scratches in the hardwood floor. He hoped she put that in her notebook, too.
“You asked me to delay Maddie. I assumed it was so you could get your financing in order. After I told her to get an inspection, I figured you’d try to put her off for a while. So why is Steve coming three days after I talked to you? Is it because you k
now he’ll find a problem?” She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “I’m fine with stalling her so you can get a bid together. But I’m not going to be part of a scam.”
“Are you nuts? Anything I break, I have to fix after I buy the Harp.” A good offense was the best defense. “And besides, she doesn’t want the building. It’s the land she’s after. So who cares what the inspector finds?”
“We might find a buyer who intends to run the pub,” the Realtor said.
“Not for the price she wants,” he said, running his hand over the green marble. Flecks of quartz gleamed in the sun. “No one’s going to pay that for a bar in Otter Tail.”
“You never know,” Laura answered. “She thinks she can get her price.”
“I believe in the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy, too.”
The Realtor sighed and sank onto one of the bar stools. “I tried to talk her into taking your offer. But she insisted she needed more money,” she said as she put her tea bag in the hot water.
“Did she say why?”
“No. And even if she did, I couldn’t tell you.”
“I should have told her to go to Gordon,” Quinn said, watching Laura pour barely steeped tea into her mug. “He wouldn’t have been so ethical.”
“Do you have a plan?” Laura asked.
“I’m going to make sure she gets to know the Harp.”
She nodded. “Show her what we’ll lose.”
“I’m not real sure she’s going to care,” Quinn said.
Maddie walked past the window, and Laura patted his arm. “Cheer up, Quinn. You might be able to come up with the money.”
“Not that kind of money,” he muttered as the front door opened and Maddie walked in. “Come to watch the inspection?” he said to her.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” she said, taking off her sunglasses and tucking one stem into the neck of her T-shirt. The shirt said Practice Safe Lunch—Use A Condiment.
He started to laugh, then caught himself. He had to fight his weakness for smart-asses. Mixing business with pleasure would be disastrous. “It’s not going to be very exciting. Kind of like watching paint dry.”
An Unlikely Setup Page 3
