With Baited Breath (3 page)

“Well, look who’s here,” said the guy behind the bar. He was balding, maybe fifty, and sporting a Harley Davison T-shirt. The nametag pinned to his shirt said Paul. “Haven’t seen you since the last time you had a fight with your old lady, Herb.”

“Yeah, well, I won’t be doing that anymore,” Herb said as he commandeered a bar stool. “I buried Josie just this afternoon.”

Paul looked stricken. “Jeeze, Herb. Nobody told me. I’m awful sorry.”

“No sorrier than me,” he said. “How about a couple of beers?”

Tori took the seat next to him. “I’d rather have a margarita.”

“It comes out of a bottle,” Paul warned.

“A beer’s fine,” she said.

“And you are?” Paul inquired.

“That’s my granddaughter, Tori,” Herb said.

“Hey, you were just a little squirt the last time I saw you.”

“She’s a school teacher,” Herb said proudly.

“What do you teach?” Paul asked as he grabbed a couple of glasses from under the bar and drew the beers.

“High school English.”

“You have my sympathies,” Paul said and set a couple of napkins before them before delivering the drinks. “Lots of excitement over at your place this afternoon. Word is you found Michael Jackson dead in one of your rental rooms.”

“I don’t know how he got there, poor sod. Did the cops come and talk to you yet?”

“Oh, yeah. And I’m sure someone will go up to talk to Lucinda about it pretty damn quick, too.”

“You think she killed Jackson?” Herb asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“And dirty her lily white hands? No way. Have him killed; now that’s another subject.”

“Grandpa said we could get some burgers and fries,” Tori said. She didn’t want to hear about poor Jackson’s death for the rest of the night.

“Sure thing,” Paul said. “How do you want them cooked?”

“Rare,” Herb said.

“Well done,” Tori countered.

“Noreen!” he yelled. “Two burgers—one red, one black—and fries.”

“Coming up,” came a muffled female voice from the behind a pair of swinging doors to her left.

Tori sipped her beer. She didn’t really like beer, and probably should have asked for a Coke. Now to figure out how to get Herb to let her pay for the meal. Then again, she was out of a job. She needed to look for ways to conserve whatever money she had.
You could move out here, get rid of the apartment, and work for the Erie school system as a substitute teacher, then you could help Gramps and save a pile of cash for … what?
She thought about it for a long moment.
Something else.

The thought of teaching another class of kids who’d rather be anywhere else had lost its appeal. Maybe she’d just take a year off and help Herb rebuild his business and then decide what to do with the rest of her life. She wasn’t about to bring up the subject with her grandfather that night, though. He’d already been through far too much that day.

“You okay, Tori? You look like you’re far away,” he said.

“I was.” She reached over to touch his hand. “But I’m back now.”

“I guess I keep forgetting that I’m not the only one who loved your grandma. I’m sure as hell gonna miss that old woman.”

Tori fought tears. A couple of the bikers chose that moment to reenter the bar. She wiped her eyes and took another sip of her beer. One of them walked up to the jukebox and fed in a couple of quarters

“Hey, I heard that Michael Jackson died across the street today,” he called out and laughed. “Hail to the King of Pop.” He pressed a button and suddenly Thriller blared out of the record-machine’s speakers.

The idea of zombies, ghosts, and ghouls that the song suggested left a bitter tang in Tori’s brain. They’d buried her beloved grandmother just that morning. But instead of ripping the jukebox’s plug from the wall, she took a deep gulp of beer and hoped it might soften the raw edge of grief that had encased her heart.

CHAPTER 2

Tori and Herb left the bar together, but before he would enter the house, Herb took down the flag that had waved that day over the Cannon compound. Tori watched, huddled in her jacket, as he unhooked the flag and reverently folded it. When she’d been a little girl, he used to hum Taps during this solitary ceremony. That night, he looked too beaten for even that extra show of respect.

It was after ten, and Tori made sure all the doors were locked before she sought out her grandfather. After what had happened earlier in the day, she wasn’t going to take any chances when it came to their safety. Then again, the old window screens could probably be wrenched off by an angry squirrel.

Herb was comfortably ensconced in his ratty-looking recliner watching TV when Tori kissed him goodnight and retired to the guest room. She’d managed to extricate the bed from the piles of junk her grandmother had accumulated, and as she went through some of the stuff, she wondered about the best way to get rid of it. Tomorrow, when she went to retrieve Daisy, she’d bring back her little digital camera and her laptop. She could take pictures of the articles and upload them to Craigslist. Hopefully they could get rid of a lot of the stuff in a short time. If she rented a tent, they could set it up next to the bait shop and customers who came in by land or water might want to look at their yard-sale offerings. She’d sleep on the idea.

The quiet was broken by her phone jangling in her purse. She dug through the contents, glanced at the number and smiled. It was Kathy Grant—her best friend forever, and one-time college roommate. She stabbed the call icon. “What’s up, Kath?”

“Sorry to call so late, my desk clerk called in sick and this was the first chance I got to slip away from reception. I was just calling to see if you and your Gramps are all right.”

“That’s so sweet of you, thanks. We’re doing okay, and thanks so much for coming to the service today. It felt good to have someone in my corner for once.”

“Now, now, I’m sure your folks are in your corner.”

“Cornered me, maybe.”

“Oh, come on. You’re sounding like a victim, and that’s not you.”

“You’re right. I’m depressed. My grandma’s gone, I’ve lost my job, the bait shop isn’t pulling its weight and Gramps is broke. I’m trying to figure out ways to make this place pay for itself. I was even playing with the idea of resurrecting the Lotus Lodge.”

“Really?” Kathy asked, intrigued. “Tell all.”

“There’s not much to tell. If we can get at least one room going before the fishing derby in August, he could make a couple hundred bucks.”

“Why not get all of them ready and your grandfather could make a lot more?”

“Getting him to agree to one will be hard enough.”

“What if you had help?” Kathy asked.

A ghost of a smile tugged at Tori’s lips. “What are you saying?”

“I’ve got the next two days off. What if I came out there on my days off for the next few weeks and helped you get the place in shape?”

“Are you crazy?”

“No, you know I’ve always wanted to run a bed and breakfast.”

“The Lotus Lodge is not a B and B.”

“But it’s in the hospitality business. I’d love to get my hands dirty on a project like that.”

Tori sighed. “There’s no money to fix it up.”

“What about selling some of your grandma’s treasures?” Kathy suggested.

“They’re more trash than treasure, but yes, I did think about putting a load of them on Craigslist, and having other stuff under a tent by the bait shop.”

“Sounds like you’ve been thinking about this pretty hard.”

“Yes, but talking Gramps into reopening the Lodge wouldn’t be easy. I mean, it’s not just a case of cleaning and painting. There’s maintenance, cleaning the rooms after each guest leaves, and all that laundry. Grandma used to do all that way back when.”

“He could hire someone to do it.”

“At his age, he probably won’t want to bother.”

“If nothing else, I could at least help you tidy up the place. From what you’ve said, it sure could use it.”

“You’ve got that right.”

”Then why don’t I come out tomorrow and plan to spend a couple of days?”

“The house has two tiny guest rooms that once belonged to my dad and aunt. They’re both stuffed full of junk and have lumpy old single beds that aren’t all that comfortable.”

“Didn’t you once tell me that the bar across the street rents rooms to fishermen?”

“You’d be roughing it.”

“All the more incentive to get the job done fast,” Kathy said optimistically.

“Can you afford even their cheap rates right now?”

“I’m saving my money for the future, but I’ve got enough for a working mini vacation. And my landlady won’t mind looking after my cats for a few days.”

“I’m going to come into town tomorrow to pick up Daisy and bring back a few of my things. It’ll take me a few hours.”

“Then why don’t I plan to come down in the afternoon?”

“It sure would be good to hang out with you for more than just a couple of hours.”

“Then say no more. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Great.” Then Tori remembered Michael Jackson. “Um, there’s just one tiny problem.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Gramps and I were doing a little tour around the grounds when we kind of found a dead body.”

Silence greeted that remark.

“It was one of Gramps’s long-time customers. He might have just crawled into one of Lotus Lodge’s unlocked units and … died.”

Again, a long period of silence followed.

“I totally understand if you want to forget the whole idea of coming down,” Tori said, her heart sinking.

“Well…” Kathy began, and for a long terrible moment Tori felt all alone and vulnerable. “These things happen.”

Tori let out the pent-up breath she’d been holding. She had no clue how Michael Jackson had died. And despite what the deputy had said, she chose to believe that Jackson’s death could have been totally innocent.

Or not.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon,” Kathy said at last.

“Okay. ’Til then. And thanks.” Tori hit the ‘End Call’ icon, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. Kathy was the most organized—and possibly smartest—person Tori had ever met. They’d hit it off from day one at SUNY Brockport where Kathy pursued a business degree and Tori a teaching degree. Graduation day was one of the saddest days of Tori’s life, because it meant the end of their lives as roommates. Kathy had stayed in the area while Tori had returned to Ohio. She hadn’t stayed there long. She’d sent resumes to all the school districts in and around Lotus Bay and had hit pay dirt, first with the Rochester City School District, and then with its largest suburb. And now they’d let her go.

If there was one place in this world where Tori felt happiest and unconditionally loved, it was on Lotus Bay. Suddenly the thought of ever going back to that sterile apartment made her spirits plummet. There were too many memories of Billy there. Still, she wasn’t sure having Gramps as a roommate was the answer, either.

Luckily, her lease came up for renewal in August. She’d give notice long before that and plan to make a new home somewhere in Ward County, so she’d be near Gramps and available to help him if necessary. Life was a lot less complicated out here in the boonies. At least that’s what Tori chose to believe.

She pulled back the spread and climbed into bed, wishing she’d thought to bring her e-reader or a favorite book. She’d bring both, as well as her clock radio, laptop, router, and chargers. Gramps had no Wi-Fi. She’d have to remedy that PDQ if she was to survive in the interim. A call to the cable company was in order.

She punched up the lumpy pillow before turning out the light. She lay down, wrinkling her nose at the pillow’s musty scent. Her own pillow was another thing she could bring from home—that, and maybe she’d stop somewhere to buy some Egyptian cotton sheets for the single bed.

A wave of sadness flowed through her. It was at night that she missed Billy the most. That was the best thing about being with someone—a cuddle before drifting off to dreamland. Was Billy spooning with his new love at that very moment? The bastard.

Chaotic thoughts filled Tori’s mind, and she was sure there was no way she’d ever get any rest. And yet, her last thought before sleep’s oblivion claimed her was the poignant memory of Michael Jackson’s worn heels just visible from Lotus Lodge room number three. She dreaded hearing the cause of death, because despite hoping otherwise, she felt sure it wasn’t going to be from natural causes.

CHAPTER 3

Daisy was not a good traveler. Buckled into the back seat of Tori’s car, the tabby howled from inside her carrier from the time they’d left the apartment’s parking lot until Tori pulled into the Cannon compound at Lotus Bay an hour later. Her carrier had been the last item squeezed into Tori’s compact car. Tori had tossed a load of her clothes into large plastic trash bags, filled boxes with staples from her cupboard, and grabbed as many of her creature comforts as she could cram into the hatchback, back seat and passenger side seat. The hamlet outside of the town of Erie had a storage facility. She’d make sure to inquire about their rates at the earliest opportunity, for until she could purge Gramps’ house of Grandma’s clutter, there’d be little or no room for her own stuff.

The day was sunny with little puffy clouds scudding across the sky. Tori had just about emptied the contents of her car and had settled Daisy with litterbox, food, and water in the cramped guest room when Kathy’s white Focus pulled into the Cannon compound’s weedy parking area.

“Howdy, stranger,” Kathy called as she got out of her car. It had been a mere twenty-four hours since they’d last seen one another. She was dressed for work in a faded pair of jeans and an old t-shirt.

Tori crossed the distance between them and gave her friend a hug. She held on for a long moment and Kathy obliged. “Thanks for coming,” she said as she pulled back.

“What’re friends for?”

Tori waved a hand to take in the entire Cannon compound. “Well, what do you think?”

Kathy’s expression darkened. “It’s fallen on even harder times since the last time I was out here.”

Tori’s eyes filled with tears as she looked at the various buildings that made up the compound through someone else’s eyes. The place was a dump.

“Hey,” Kathy said with compassion, and gathered Tori into another embrace. “Don’t worry. You and I are going to fix this. I’m sure a lot of it is just cosmetic.” She pulled back.

Tori forced herself to look her friend in the eye. “Ya think so?”

“I know so. Is your grandfather around? I want to say hello and then we can get started.”

“Where do we start?”

“A lawn mower and a weed whacker will make an instant improvement.”

“Then what?”

Kathy turned to face the bait shop. The concrete-block building hadn’t been painted in decades. “We’ll spruce up the shop and give it a little personality, then we’ll turn our attention to the Lotus Lodge.”

“I haven’t yet mentioned that part of the plan to Gramps.”

Kathy faced the shabby little motel. “Can we look inside?”

“I’d have to get the keys from Gramps. He says the rooms are crammed full from floor to ceiling, without even a trail leading to the small bathrooms.”

“You’re going to order a Dumpster, right? Do it today and you might even get it delivered by tomorrow. But I figured we’d paint the shop, first.”

“Keep talking. You’re giving me hope with every word.”

Kathy smiled. “Is your grandfather in the shop?”

Tori nodded.

Kathy’s eyes narrowed. “Has he got any snapping turtles for sale?”

Tori shook her head. “Not right now.”

“Good. Then I can’t get in trouble for releasing them.”

“They’re not pets,” Tori reminded her. “They’re food.”

“I only eat mock turtle soup.”

“Honey, you’re not in the city anymore, and that’s the first thing you need to learn. People around here don’t see things the same way you and I do.”

Kathy nodded. “I’ll try to keep that in mind. Come on. We’ve got work to do.”

#

Kathy wasn’t afraid of hard work, and she’d been right; the mowed lawn made a huge difference to improve the compound’s curb appeal. Afterward, they sat in the kitchen with sweating glasses of iced tea and a pen and pad making lists of what needed to be done to turn the Cannon’s businesses around. Tori ordered the Dumpster and then they’d set off for the hardware store, heading straight for the paint section.

“What color should we buy?” Kathy asked.

“White.”

“Oh, no!” Kathy said vehemently.

“I don’t think Gramps would go for any other color.”

“Isn’t his competitor’s place a dull and boring brown?”

“You mean Bayside Live Bait & Marina? Yeah.”

“Then Cannon’s should be on the opposite side of the color wheel.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Caribbean blue—or something teal.”

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. What’s a bait shop represent?”

“Worms.”

“No, recreation,” Kathy admonished. “Mark my words. Make it colorful and it will stand out all year—especially in winter.”

Tori wasn’t enthusiastic, but she let Kathy talk her into a special mix that was close to teal. If nothing else, it would be more cheerful than stark white would. But what was her Gramps going to say?

They also bought a quart each of red, white, and black paint to spruce up the signs that had faded so badly that they were barely legible. And they bought a couple of flats of petunias and a dozen geraniums to plant around the house and shop to make the place a little more welcoming. All well and good, but Tori didn’t have an income. She hoped there was something worth selling among her grandmother’s treasures to pay for these much-needed splurges. They would start the sorting process later that night.

The locally owned grocery store couldn’t hold a candle to the big chains in Rochester when it came to prepared foods, but they bought a large sub and some potato salad for their supper. Kathy had baked that morning and brought a big plastic container of Tori’s favorite chocolate chip-oatmeal cookies, which didn’t have long for this world. They also picked up a large box of heavy-duty trash bags. They were going to need them.

Herb had closed the shop and was waiting for them in the kitchen when they returned from their errands. “I’m hungry as a bear,” he said as Tori collected plates, passing them to Kathy, who set the table while Tori retrieved mayo, pickles, and a big pitcher of iced tea from the fridge.

“Did you get me some scratch offs?” Herb asked.

“Gramps, you may as well flush your money down the toilet as buy lottery tickets,” Tori said with disdain.

“One of these days I’m gonna win big and then you’ll have to eat your words.”

“I’d rather eat this sandwich,” she said, taking her seat at the table.

Kathy unwrapped the sub and passed parts of it around. “What will you do if you win?” she asked the old man.

“Move to Florida.”

“Florida?” Tori asked, aghast. “What for?”

“It don’t snow there.”

“Would you be a snowbird?” Kathy asked, and used her fork to spear a couple of gherkins.

“Hell, no. If I move there, I wouldn’t come back here.”

“Don’t you love Lotus Bay?” Tori asked, feeling crushed.

“Not really. The Lodge and the bait shop were your grandma’s pet projects, not mine. I never wanted to go into business. There’re too many ways to fail.”

“It’s hard work,” Kathy agreed, “but I’d much rather work for myself than someone else.”

“Tori tells me you work in a hotel,” Herb said, spooning an enormous helping of potato salad onto his plate.

“I do,” Kathy said sadly. ”But one day I’m going to own a bed and breakfast.”

“Good luck with that,” Herb muttered with what sounded like disapproval.

“It’s what I’ve always wanted to do. Now I just have to find the perfect property. That is, once my inheritance comes through.”

“When’s that going to happen?” Herb asked.

“In four months, when I hit thirty,” Kathy said and picked up her sandwich, taking a bite.

Herb looked askance at Tori before he spoke again. “So, why did you come here today?”

Kathy swallowed. “To help you and Tori.”

“If you’re worried about me, don’t. I’ve got everything under control.”

“Great,” she said, picked up her fork and scooped up some potato salad.

“You girls don’t need to hang around here. I took care of Josie and this place for a lot of years. I can take care of myself.”

“I know that, Gramps,” Tori said, remembering that he hadn’t been quite that confident the evening before.

“If you’re determined to paint the shop, I’d be grateful, but after that ….” He let the sentence dangle with words unsaid.

Daisy wandered into the kitchen and sat in front of Herb, looking hopeful.

“You know, Mr. Cannon,” Kathy began, “you’re not the only family member here who needs a lifeline.”

“Kathy, don’t,” Tori warned, but her words had no effect.

Daisy cried, and Herb pulled a piece of ham from his sub, offering it to the cat, who swallowed it whole.

“Tori hasn’t been exactly honest with you,” Kathy told Herb.

He turned his gaze toward his granddaughter.

“Please!” Tori implored.

“Tori lost her job,” Kathy began. “Right now the two of you need each other to survive.”

Herb’s gaze intensified. “Is that true?”

Tori took a deep breath. ”I wasn’t going to say anything, but yes. When my lease runs out, I’m not sure where I’ll end up. I was sort of thinking it might be here with you. Not forever,” she hastened to explain. “Just until I find another job. I thought maybe we could work together over the summer to get the shop back in the black and then….” She didn’t finish the sentence.

“If you need money,” the old man said, but Tori shook her head.

“My bet is you’ve got less than me, but at least you have assets here with the shop—and the Lodge. I was hoping if we could make the most if it this summer, it might carry you through the lean winter months.”

“You lost your job?” Herb repeated. “What did you do wrong?”

“Nothing. They cut teachers, not sports programs.”

“But you had to do
something
wrong,” the old man accused, looking at her with disappointment. “Bosses don’t let good people go unless they do something wrong.”

“That’s not true, Mr. Cannon,” Kathy said. “I’ve been following the school board decisions in the paper. The voters are the ones to blame, not those now out of work.”

Tori swallowed, wounded by her grandfather’s condemnation. She watched him give the cat another piece of meat. “I’m going to send resumes to every school district in a three-county radius. If nothing else, I can probably substitute-teach and I might pick up some tutoring jobs, too.”

“That don’t pay much,” Herb said sourly and took a bite of his sandwich.

“It’s better than starving,” Tori muttered. They definitely needed a change of subject. “We won’t have Kathy for more than a day or so. I thought maybe tonight we could go through some of the stuff here in the house to see if there’s anything worth saving. “Do you want to help us, or do you trust us to decide whether to keep or toss stuff?”

Herb reached for the salt and liberally shook it over his potato salad. “As far as I’m concerned you can toss it all.”

She should have expected that reaction. “I thought I’d rent a tent so we could set it up next to the shop and let your customers look at the stuff.”

“Renting tents costs money,” Herb grumbled. “Money we don’t have.”

“Actually, I borrowed an E-Z Up canopy from my landlady and brought it with me,” Kathy said. “She used to sell jewelry at craft shows. She said you could borrow it for a few weeks. She’ll need it back before Labor Day, though. That’s when she throws her annual family picnic.”

“She’ll have it back long before then. I’ll make sure of it, and please thank her for us,” Tori said.

“Sure thing.”

They ate for a few minutes in awkward silence, with only the sound of cutlery on plates breaking the quiet. Daisy rounded the table, but got no scraps from her owner or her best friend. Eventually, she sauntered out of the kitchen.

Kathy finally broke the quiet. “Did the police come back today?”

“No,” Tori said

“Yes,” Herb answered.

“They did? You didn’t tell me.”

“Didn’t have time,” the old man answered.

“What did they say?”

“Not so much said as asked. They wanted to know if the shop was missing any bait.”

“Why was that?”

“’Cuz it seems that not only did someone kill Michael Jackson, but they stuffed his mouth full of spikes.”

Tori set down her fork and pushed her plate away. “I’m done.”

Kathy looked confused. “What are spikes?”

Herb scooped up the last of his potato salad and shoved it into his mouth. He quickly chewed and swallowed before answering. “Maggots.”

“Oh!” Kathy pushed her plate away, too. “Why would anyone do that?”

Herb took a bite of his sandwich and shrugged. “Why would anyone
kill
the man?”

“Was the shop missing any bait?” Tori asked.