With Baited Breath (10 page)

Anissa walked along the length of the foundation. She ran the light up and down and then started walking toward the southern-most corner of the room. Kathy followed her to the eastern wall where Anissa touched the stone. “There’s some water seepage here, but nothing too bad. Adding gutters and having them drain away from the house would probably take care of that.”

A spurt of hope coursed through her, and Kathy was afraid to say anything lest she jinx herself.

They wandered around the rest of the basement and found a pile of old wood and a stack of dirt-and-cobweb covered wooden doors. “This is a find,” Anissa said. “These look like the original interior doors. The ones upstairs are crap—hollow core and not up to code. This is a real bonus.”

Nearby sat a hulking furnace and one large hot water heater. “Despite the size of that water heater, it’s not sufficient for the three bathrooms that are already here. You’d want to add more. You’re going to need a whole new HVAC system, and it probably means all new ductwork, too.”

“Expensive?”

Anissa nodded.

They walked around the rest of the basement until they came back to the stairs. “Well, what do you think?”

“I think you should tell Jerry he can go, and we’ll talk about this outside—and then you have to leave.”

“Yeah.”

They headed back up the stairs.

Jerry was back outside and on his cell phone once again. They had to wait for him to finish his call. “Sorry. I’ve got a couple who are moving to this area and want to see at least three houses this afternoon.”

“I understand,” Kathy said. “I’m going to discuss the scope of possible repairs with my contractor and then I’ll get back to you—probably tomorrow.”

Jerry reached into the breast pocket of his shirt, withdrawing a business card. “I’ll be waiting for your call,” he said. He locked up the house and they watched him climb back into his car and take off.

“I don’t like that guy,” Anissa said unnecessarily.

“I can’t say I’m a fan either, but I’d much rather talk about the house. What do you think?”

Anissa actually smiled. “It sounds like a hell of a lot of money, but if you’re willing to put a hundred grand into this place, you might just have a palace on your hands.”

Kathy couldn’t help herself and jumped, then sprang forward to hug Anissa.

“Hold it, hold it!” Anissa cried and pushed back. “Depending on what you want to do, you’re looking at a renovation that could take up to a year to finish.”

“I understand that, but I’m so relieved to hear you say you think it’s a good idea.”

“I didn’t say that—I said it’s worth doing. But I can tell by looking at you that you’ve already fallen hard for this place and would have bought it whether I said it was fixable or not.”

Kathy bowed her head. “You’re right. But I’m so relieved you don’t think it’s a total waste.” She looked back at the house. In her mind’s eye, she saw it as it could be, not as it currently was.

“Now all you have to do is hope it’ll still be on the market when your inheritance comes through.”

Kathy sighed, her spirits falling. “Yeah.” She did have some money saved—what she’d been putting aside to one day furnish the bed and breakfast of her dreams—but it wasn’t enough. Of course, she could probably put ten percent down and get a mortgage, making payments until her inheritance came through. She could come out on her days off to start cleaning up the house and the yard, and maybe even starting some of the demo.

“I think I can pull it off,” she said at last. “I’m calling Jerry as soon as I get home and—”

“No,” Anissa advised. “You need to think this through. You need to sit down and make a list of pros and cons about this project. First of all, you don’t even know if a high-end B and B will draw customers to the area. You’ve got a redneck bar next-door, and a fish camp across the street. From what I can see, your water access amounts to a swamp out back, and the DEC probably wouldn’t even let you put a dock out there.”

Kathy frowned. She hadn’t thought about that. “But I want it,” she said, sounding to herself like a spoiled brat.

“This is a big decision. You don’t want to be here a year from now cursing yourself for being an impulsive fool,” Anissa warned.

“You’re right. I wish you weren’t, but you are,” Kathy grudgingly admitted. “If I do decide to go ahead and do this, would you consider being my contractor?”

Anissa shook her head. “Honey, you don’t even know if I’m any good.”

“I trust you.”

“You haven’t even known me a whole day,” Anissa reminded her.

“I’m a good judge of character.”

Anissa frowned and shook her head. “If you buy this place, you will talk to at least one other contractor before you hire me or anybody else.”

“But would you like the job?”

Anissa shrugged. “You’re not going to be ready to start work for another four, five months, maybe longer. I don’t know where I’ll be or what I’ll be doing.”

Kathy nodded. The idea of working with Anissa had appealed to her. She liked the idea of women working together toward a shared goal.

Anissa glanced at her watch. “You better get going.”

“What are you going to do today?”

“I thought I might visit with Tori. Lord knows I don’t know anybody else around here.”

“There’s always Lucinda Bloomfield.”

Anissa pointed a menacing finger at Kathy. “Don’t go there.”

Kathy smiled. “Okay, I’m leaving. Tell Tori I’ll call her later.”

“Will do,” Anissa said.

Kathy got back in her car and started the engine. She backed into the road, pausing to wave before she headed for the bridge and the road leading home. It was then she thought about what Herb’s customer had said about Biggie Taylor and Anissa’s father. Should she have said something to her friend? Maybe, maybe not. When she talked to Tori later, she’d encourage her to share what they knew about the situation. If nothing else, she wanted to do something to help Anissa get over the loss of her father. Finding his killer would certainly be a giant step in that direction.

CHAPTER 9

Tori rearranged the junk—or rather valuable merchandise—on the sale table, wondering when Herb would get back from the store so she could leave the bait shop to restock. She’d already had a couple of customers who’d walked over the bridge to check out the refreshed bait shop. They’d bought bait or chips. Not huge purchases, but there was money in the till. They’d also pursued some yard sale items and bought nearly ten bucks worth of stuff. Again, not astounding, but it was money coming in.

Tori looked up at the sound of tires on the gravel parking area, but instead of Herb’s truck, it was Anissa’s. Tori smiled and waved. Anissa got out of the truck and walked over to meet her.

“Well, is she going to buy the place?”

Anissa nodded. “I made her promise she would think it over for at least a day, but Kathy’s a woman with a mission; she wants that house.”

Tori sighed. “I was afraid of that. Will she lose her shirt?”

“If she can see through the whole renovation process, then find some paying customers, she might just break even the first couple of years.”

“That’s not very encouraging,” Tori said sourly.

“It’s realistic.”

“Will you help her fix it up?”

“I don’t know where I’ll be by the time she closes on the house. As it’s empty, it’ll be faster than some, but it still takes half of forever for these things to happen. I can’t sit around for months at a time on the promise of one job.”

Tori nodded.

Anissa looked down at the yard sale items on display. “Hey, you’ve got some good stuff here.”

“Just what my grandma collected over the years. She was a bit of a packrat, I’m afraid. I’m helping Gramps empty out the house.”

“Yeah, that Dumpster is already looking pretty full. What did you toss?”

“Papers, plastic containers, broken appliances—junk. Thank goodness the waste company goes through everything for recycling.”

Anissa picked up a vegetable peeler. “I could use one of these.” She dug into her pocket and pulled out a quarter.

“Oh, you don’t have to pay for that.”

“Hey, the reason you’re selling this stuff is because you need the money, remember?”

“A quarter isn’t going to break me.”

“Well, I’m not one for accepting charity, either, and I already did that by letting you guys cut my grass and shape up the yard last night.”

“Kathy bartered for your services,” Tori reminded her.

“Yeah, and I got the better part of the deal. What would I have been doing yesterday afternoon and this morning if I hadn’t gone over to the house with her?”

Tori nodded and considered mentioning what Kathy had said about the altercation between her father and Biggie Taylor the week before. Before she could say a word, Herb’s truck pulled into the drive and he parked beside the Dumpster.

“Yee-ha!” he called as he got out of the truck. He grabbed a couple of plastic grocery bags from the back of the pickup and hurried over to join the women. “I won! I won!”

“Won what?” Anissa asked.

“Scratch off.”

“How much?” Tori asked, hoping with all her heart it was enough to pay an electrician.

“Ten bucks.”

“Is that all?” she nearly wailed. “How much did you spend on tickets?”

“Ten bucks.”

“Then you didn’t win. You broke even,” Tori said with exasperation.

“It’s better than nothing,” he said, perturbed.

“Congratulations,” Anissa said, stifling a laugh.

“At least somebody’s happy,” he said and glared at Tori. Then his gaze shifted to Anissa. “We’re having egg salad for lunch. You want to stay?”

Anissa shook her head. “Oh, no. I just stopped by to say hi to Tori.”

Herb shrugged. “If you change your mind, there’ll be plenty. I always make enough for at least five sandwiches.” He turned for the house.

“He’s right. He doesn’t know how to make a small batch of egg salad, and it’s really good.”

“Thanks, anyway.”

“Well, would you consider another barter?”

“What do you mean?”

Tori glanced over to the tall lamppost that stood at the head of the dock. “I need an electrician. You said you could do electrical work.”

“The lights?” she asked.

Tori nodded.

Anissa walked over the pole and looked up. “Burned out bulbs or do you need new wiring?”

“I don’t know what it needs. It hasn’t worked for a while and we’ve lost customers because of it.”

“You got a ladder?”

“In the boathouse.”

“Let’s go get it.”

Tori looked from the bait shop to the house. There were no customers in sight, so she went inside, hung the sign Herb used when he needed a bathroom break that said
Back in 5 minutes
, and locked the door. Anissa followed her to the boathouse.

Like the table she and Kathy had retrieved earlier, the wooden ladder was covered in decades worth of dirt and spider webs. “Ick!” Tori complained.

Anissa shrugged. “When you work in construction, you get used to stuff like this.” She grabbed the ladder without help, and headed for the door. Tori doubted she could have carried it, but Anissa made the task look easy.

A minute later, Anissa had set the ladder up against the pole. “You steady it from the bottom. I don’t trust this old thing.”

“Of course,” Tori said.

If Anissa was afraid of anything, it didn’t show. She practically scampered up the ladder. She took her time examining the lamp, before she started back down the ladder. “The fixture’s shot.”

“What would it cost to get a new one?”

“A really good one? Six or seven hundred bucks.”

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Tori cried. Anissa shook her head. No wonder Herb hadn’t replaced the thing. “We haven’t got that kind of money.”

“You can get a cheapy for a couple hundred,” Anissa said.

Tori let out a shaky breath. “Where?”

“Might have to go to Rochester for one. Why don’t you google it?”

Tori nodded, feeling defeated. “Well, we have to have one. I’ll be going back to the city to get more of my stuff on Monday. If I can find something, I’ll buy it.”

“Why don’t I drive you to Rochester? We’ll buy a replacement lamp, and then go to your place. You can put your stuff in the back of my truck. You’d get more in it than that tiny clown car you drive.”

“Clown car?”

“It
is
a compact,” Anissa pointed out.

“It gets good mileage.”

“It’s a death trap,” Anissa said.

Tori sighed. Maybe it was. She looked at the canopy. Maybe they’d pull in some money with the yard sale, but she’d have to raise her prices and list the better stuff on Craigslist. She could use her credit card to buy the light fixture and figure out how to pay Anissa for her labor—as well as pay for her gas to and from Rochester.

“Okay. We’ll go Monday.”

“Fine.”

Tori nodded. Now she really felt she owed Anissa. “Did Kathy mention Biggie Taylor?”

Anissa laughed. “Sounds like a rapper.”

“I don’t know who he is, but one of Gramps’ customers said this guy Biggie Taylor and your father had an argument last weekend over on the bridge. Something about Biggie stealing your father’s bait.”

Anissa’s eyes narrowed. “No, she didn’t say anything.”

Tori let out a breath. “Kathy overheard the customer talking.” She was about to say with Gramps, but thought better of it, especially as he’d warned the guy not to say anything.

“Does your grandfather know this guy?”

“I don’t think so. But our competition across the bridge might. When Gramps comes back out, why don’t we take a walk over there? That way I can scope the place out, too.”

Anissa nodded, her expression somber. “All right.”

Tori dug into her pants pocket for the keys to the bait shop and unlocked the door. She took down the sign and came back outside just as a small fishing boat with a man and a woman onboard tied up to the dock.

“Looks like you might have some customers,” Anissa said.

“Hey, guys. Can I help you?” Tori called.

“Need to buy some spikes. You got any?” the guy asked, his gaze straying to Anissa.

“Sure. Come on into the shop.”

The man followed her into the shop, while the woman perused the yard sale items.

“Heard there was a murder here earlier this week,” the man said eagerly.

Tori frowned. “I’m afraid so. The police have asked us not to talk about it,” she fibbed. She had no desire to feed his curiosity.

“It was that black guy, Jackson, wasn’t it?”

Anissa suddenly appeared in the doorway, alerted by the man using her surname.

Tori nodded, and rang up the sale, but the man didn’t seem in a hurry to pay.

“I guess I’ve known the old guy about ten years.”

“Is that so?” Tori said neutrally.

“Poor guy was crazy.”

“Oh?”

He nodded, leaning against the counter, like he was getting ready to launch into a long story. “Everybody on the bay has been talking about it.”

“To the police?” Tori asked.

“Are you kidding? I told you the guy was crazy, and we’d be crazy to talk to the cops.”

“Why was he crazy?” Tori asked.

“He kept on and on about lights on the bay at night. Of course there are lights on the bay. It’s the law. Your boat has to have lights on it for safety, but he kept insisting it was something different, but he couldn’t say what.”

“You really should tell the police. I’d be glad to give you the lead detective’s name.”

The man shook his head, finally fishing for his wallet. “Nah, I don’t want to get involved.”

“If nobody gets involved, they’ll never find out who killed Mr. Jackson. That person might kill again.”

“I’m not worried. I live over in Salmon Creek.”

“How do you know the killer lives around here?” Anissa asked.

The guy’s head turned so fast he was in danger of whiplash. He eyed Anissa, his bravado dissipating He shrugged, then turned back and handed Tori a ten. She made change.

“Honey,” the woman called from outside. “Come look at this.”

The man picked up his foam container of bait and sidled past Anissa. She stepped inside. “Lights on the bay at night?” she repeated.

“He’s right. A boat is supposed to have a green light in the bow and a red one in the stern.”

“You sound like a regular sailor,” she commented.

“I took a boating safety course when I was ten and passed with flying colors,” Tori bragged.

Anissa merely scowled.

“Hello!” the woman outside called. “I’d like to buy some of your stuff.”

Tori walked around the counter and went outside to take care of her new customer.

The woman ended up dropping almost eighteen dollars, buying salt shakers, mixing bowls, a kitchen scale, crocheted potholders, an assortment of cooking utensils, and a number of mismatched bowls and plates. Tori was only too happy to pack the stuff into boxes and carry it to the boat where the woman’s impatient husband waited. As they were casting off—and starting what sounded like it might be a good argument—Tori rejoined Anissa.

“Now we have two unsubstantiated facts to check concerning my daddy’s death,” Anissa said.

“We?” Tori asked.

“Well, you did say you’d walk over the bridge with me.”

“I did. But I think we should also call Detective Osborn.”

Anissa glowered. “I don’t think that man gives a rat’s ass about finding my daddy’s killer.”

“It’s only been a couple of days,” Tori said reasonably.

“You might not be so patient if it was somebody you loved who’d been found dead,” Anissa said coldly.

Shame rushed through her, and Tori frowned. “I’m sorry, Anissa. I did lose someone this week, it wasn’t quite as sudden as your loss, but I have an inkling of what you’re going through. Maybe we can help each other get through our grief.”

Anissa nodded and sighed. “I’ve got a couple of bottles of wine back at my place. If you’ve got nothing better to do tonight, why don’t you come by and we’ll commiserate.”

“Sounds great.”

They heard the screen door to the house slam, and Herb came back out. He held half a sandwich in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. He joined them in front of the sale table. “Hey, looks like you sold a lot of stuff.”

“Yeah, and we’re going to need to sell a whole lot more to pay for a new light fixture for the dock,” Tori said. “Anissa had a look. We’re going to pick one up on Monday when we go into Rochester to get more of my stuff.”

“I’m glad your grandma’s junk can help pay for it. Goodness knows it wasn’t doing us any good.” He took a big bite of his sandwich, chewed, and swallowed. “I made a bunch of sandwiches and left them in the fridge for you girls.”