With Baited Breath (5 page)

“You could set up a site cheap.”

“That’s a good idea,” Tori said as the toast popped up. She put each slice on a plate and reloaded the toaster. She handed Kathy a plate.

“Thanks.” Kathy took a seat at the table where napkins, knives, butter, and a jar of raspberry jam awaited. “I’ve got good news.”

“I could use some about now,” Tori admitted, still standing by the counter.

“Your neighbors at The Bay Bar are loaning us their power washer so we can prep the bait shop.”

“Hey, that’s great. Have you ever used one?”

“Yep. Once the walls are dry, we can start painting. We might even finish the job today. Then we can start tackling the Lotus Lodge.”

“I don’t know, Kath. That’s a pretty tall order. Even if we get it in shape, we’d have to get a certificate of occupancy and heaven only knows how many other permits to reopen.” She nibbled on the corner of her toast. “You didn’t tell the people at the bar about possibly reopening the lodge, did you?”

“Noreen asked about it.”

“Who’s she?”

“One of the owners. She mans the kitchen.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I asked how she’d feel about it reopening.”

“And?” Tori asked, sounding nervous.

“Happy as a pig rolling in poop. She thinks it would add to their bar trade.”

“She might be right.”

“She said things are pretty dead in winter, but mentioned the same as you—ice fishermen, and even better, snowmobilers—help the bottom line.”

The second batch of toast popped up. Tori placed one slice on her plate and doled the other out to Kathy, then sat down at the table.

Kathy spread jam on the toast and cut it into triangles, all the time wrestling with her conscience. Should she mention that old wreck of a house to Tori? She’d never lied to her friend before—not even a lie of omission. “What do you know about that house across the road that’s for sale?”

“It’s a real mess.”

“Was it ever pretty?”

“Not that I remember, why?”

“Noreen said the asking price was only ten grand.”

Tori studied her face. “I hope you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking.”

“I am,” Kathy admitted.

Tori laughed. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I like to think I’m on a quest for knowledge.”

“To find out it’s a potential money pit and totally unsuitable for a B and B?”

Kathy nodded. “You got it.”

“Shouldn’t you do a feasibility study to see if the area can handle that kind of traffic?”

“Definitely. To tell you the truth, it’s the price that caught my attention. I’ve seen wrecks like that in Batavia for a heck of a lot more money.”

“Yeah, but it would probably take a hundred grand or more to bring it back to a habitable state. It might be better to just find a chunk of land and start building from scratch. And, as much as I’d love it if you were going to be near here, I think you’d do better to find something in Batavia or Rochester.”

“Who goes to Batavia? It’s just a pee stop on the Thruway.”

“The race track is there.”

“That’s about it.” Kathy polished off the last of her toast. “I’m not saying that wreck is the place for me, but I sure wouldn’t mind taking a walk through it. Would you come with me?”

“To be the voice of reason? You bet.”

Kathy decided to change the subject. “The conversation at The Bay Bar was all about the murder.”

“There’s probably not much else to talk about around here,” Tori said reasonably.

“Did the guy who died keep his boat here?”

Tori nodded. “Gramps said it was tied up to the dock, why?”

“The dead guy told one of the bikers that he wasn’t going to take his boat out on the bay at night anymore because strange stuff was happening.”

“Like what?”

She shrugged. “I was wondering about UFOs. Have you ever seen one?”

“No, but I’ve seen shooting stars. Gramps has seen the northern lights, but I never did.”

Kathy looked up at the clock. “You’d better get dressed. I can’t lug that power washer across the street by myself.”

Tori pushed away from the table and got up. “Okay. Thanks for getting them to loan it to us. It’s going to save us half a day of scrubbing. I’ll be back in a minute,” she said and headed out of the kitchen toward the back of the house and her room, with Daisy following close behind.

Kathy kept staring at the hands of the clock. The real estate office probably didn’t open for another hour. Once they got started on power washing the bait shop, she’d suggest they take a break halfway through and then she’d call. Was it possible she could see the place today? She found her gut tightening with anticipation. That house wasn’t likely to be
the one
she could successfully turn into a gorgeous bed and breakfast, but just what if it was?

CHAPTER 5

The power washing went better than Tori had expected. True to her word, Kathy did know how to use it. Unfortunately, it not only removed the dirt from the paint, but it removed most of the paint from the cinder blocks, too. It was going to take more than one coat to cover them and make the place look welcoming…that is if you could use that word to describe a bait shop.

Herb came out several times to criticize the job, but he didn’t fool Tori. He’d also been suppressing the beginnings of a smile. Maybe he thought they could bring the business back, too.

They had to wait for the blocks to dry before they could start painting, and thanks to a stiff breeze off the bay, they hoped to start within the hour. They’d already distributed a drop cloth around the north side of the building, and were assembling cans of paint when the Dumpster arrived. They watched it get unloaded, and before the truck had even left the driveway they started heaving the trash bags into it.

A green Honda Civic pulled into the gravel lot and parked. An older woman, probably in her late sixties, got out. She opened the back door to her car and took out a cake carrier with a transparent dome. Inside was a chocolate frosted cake.

Tori recognized the lady as someone who had been at her grandmother’s funeral.

“Victoria!” she called.

Tori walked up to meet her. “Tori,” she said amiably, taking in the woman’s pale blue cotton-knit shirt with pink embroidered flowers around the neck, dark slacks, and black mules. She wore a triple string of pearls and matching earrings. “Hello. What can I do for you?”

“We met at Josie’s funeral the other day. I’m Irene Timmons. I heard you were staying with Herb for a few days. That’s so thoughtful of you. He must be terribly lonely with Josie gone.”

Tori frowned at the woman’s simpering tone. “He’s doing okay.”

“I’m so glad to hear that. Is he around?” she asked, her gaze straying to where Herb’s truck was parked near the house.

“He’s in the bait shop. It was so thoughtful of you to bring Gramps a cake. Would you like me to take it inside?”

Irene wrinkled her nose, but shook her head. “I think I’ll just take it to him, dear.”

Tori shrugged. “Be my guest.”

Irene headed for the bait shop. Kathy had finished tossing the trash into the Dumpster and was checking her phone for messages. She pocketed it when Tori joined her. “A neighborly visit?” she asked.

Tori nodded. “A friend of Grandma’s. She wanted to check up on Gramps.”

“I’ll bet.”

They headed back to the bait shop. Tori glanced inside. The cake sat on the counter, which seemed to be a buffer zone between Herb and his visitor. Irene was leaning against it, but Herb had retreated until he was standing with his back to a fishing lure display.

Tori picked up a screwdriver, intending to open one of the paint cans, when a battered blue pickup truck pulled up in the Cannon compound’s parking lot, coming to a halt in front of the Lotus Lodge. A tall and stocky black woman dressed in overalls, with foot-long dreadlocks, got out of it and stood before the building, just staring at it. She wasn’t fat; her taut, chiseled arm muscles hinted of hours of weight training and/or heavy physical labor.

“Why don’t you go see what she wants,” Kathy suggested. “I can get things going here.”

“Okay,” Tori said, and left her friend, who’d seemed to be getting antsy. She ambled over to the visitor and looked back. Kathy had already whipped out her cell phone. No doubt calling the real estate office about the wreck across the road. She shrugged and started back toward the newcomer. “Can I help you?” she called.

The woman turned to look at her. Her eyes were filled with tears, and she rubbed the back of her hand across the right one. “Just looking,” she said, and turned back to look at the motel.

Tori stepped closer. “Anissa?” she called.

The woman turned and nodded.

“It’s me, Tori.”

“Shut up,” the woman said and somehow managed a soggy laugh.

Tori wasn’t sure if her childhood friend would be receptive to a hug, but she held out her arms. Anissa practically fell into her embrace and began to weep, great heaving sobs.

“I’m so sorry,” Tori whispered into her ear and patted her back.

“My daddy’s dead,” Anissa managed between ragged breaths.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Tori murmured, not knowing what else to say to ease Anissa’s sorrow.

Eventually, the sobs grew more quiet, and Anissa pulled away. “Sorry about that,” she managed, dug into the big pocket on the left side of her overalls, and came up with a balled-up tissue. She blew her nose—loudly—and let out a shaky breath. “How long has it been?” she asked Tori.

“More than twenty years.”

“You don’t look at all like you did as a kid,” Anissa said.

“Neither do you,” Tori said, and they both laughed.

Anissa’s smile was short lived. “The detective I spoke to said that a woman found my daddy. Was that you?”

Tori nodded, finding it hard to meet Anissa’s gaze. “Me and my Gramps.”

“How could someone kill my daddy and nobody saw it happen?” Anissa demanded.

“We buried my grandma that day. We were gone from nine in the morning until late in the afternoon.”

Anissa nodded and turned back to the motel. “What a dump.”

Tori let out a breath. “Yeah.”

“I mean, it’s a terrible place for someone to die.”

“Do the police have any clue what happened?”

“Do you think they care about a dead old black dude?” Anissa asked with disdain.

“I sure hope they do. I’m trying to breathe some life into the business.”

“Oh, so my daddy being killed here is bad for business?” Anissa asked hotly.

“That’s not what I meant,” Tori said, defending herself.

Anissa turned away. “I’m sorry. I’m angry and I guess I just want to blame someone for this.”

“I can understand that,” Tori said with sympathy. “When did you find out?”

“Last night. It took the cops that long to track me down. I guess it didn’t occur to them to look in the phone book.”

“Do you live in Rochester?” Tori asked.

Anissa nodded, then she shrugged. “Sort of. I’ve got an apartment in half a house, but my lease is up and I haven’t had a chance to find a new place. I was going to put my stuff in storage and move in with a friend for a while. I’m between jobs and money is kind of tight,” she admitted.

“I can relate to that,” Tori said, but wasn’t about to go into details.

“I was actually thinking I might stay in daddy’s house for a while—at least until the cops figure out what happened. He had a will. He left the place to my brother and me.”

“How is James?” Tori asked, looking back at the bait shop; Kathy was still on the phone.

“Probably pulling teeth.”

“Oh?” Tori asked, confused.

“He’s an oral surgeon.
I’m
my mother’s greatest disappointment. I didn’t want to go to college. I followed in my daddy’s footsteps and found a job in construction, mostly working on houses. Despite my appearance,” she said, taking in her battered truck with a wave of her hand, “it can pay quite well. I just have the unfortunate habit of shooting off my big mouth at the wrong moment and screwing myself in the process.”

“Been there, done that,” Tori admitted.

“My mother expects me to have a debilitating accident just like daddy. So far, I’ve been lucky. I’ve stepped on a few rusty nails, and nearly crushed a toe or two, but that’s about the extent of the accidents I’ve had. Not like my daddy, whose leg was pretty mangled. It put him out of work for a long time and led to my parents’ breakup.”

Tori nodded. “Do you still have friends in the area?”

Anissa shook her head. “I lost track of all of them years ago. I hadn’t even seen daddy in a couple of months, but I talked to him every few days on the phone.”

“Did he mention having any trouble?” Tori asked.

“You mean apart from annoying that witch Lucinda Bloomfield up on the hill?”

“Yeah.”

Anissa shrugged. “My daddy wasn’t one to complain. All he wanted to do was watch a little TV, fish a little, and live his life in peace. But he didn’t sound his usual cheerful self when we last talked. He was distracted—like he had other things on his—mind, and that wasn’t like him. He was always happy to hear from me, but that night he ended our conversation pretty quick.”

“Did you tell the police this?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean anything to them.” She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears once again. “How does that get a good man killed?” she asked, her voice breaking.

Again, Tori had no idea what to say, how to comfort the woman. Her grandmother had died unaware, but Michael Jackson’s death had been violent—and his body dragged and dumped not ten feet from where she now stood.

Anissa wiped her eyes and blew her nose once more, staring off in the direction of the bait shop. “You doing some fixing up for your grandfather?”

Tori nodded. “Yeah. Trying to see if I can help him get this place back in the black. He took care of my grandma the last couple of years and things kind of got away from him.”

Anissa nodded and sniffed. “If you need some odd jobs done, I’m available. I can do demo, drywall, electrical, and plumbing.”

“Right now the budget is practically nil, which is why my friend, Kathy, is here to help me paint the bait shop. She’s got it in her head that I should try to reopen the Lotus Lodge.”

Anissa turned back to look at the motel. “Girl, if that’s your plan, you’ve got your hands full. Still, if you decide you want to do even a little sprucing up so it doesn’t look like such an eyesore, you know where to find me—at least for the next week or so.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Tori said.

Anissa started back for her truck. She opened the door and climbed inside. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“I hope so,” Tori said.

Anissa started the engine and backed up, leaving the lot and heading up Resort Road. Tori watched until she was out of sight, then started back for the bait shop. Kathy had finished her call and was already up the stepladder, slapping paint on the now-dried cinder blocks.

“Who was that?” she asked, not bothering to look away from her task.

“Mr. Jackson’s daughter, Anissa.”

“I had a feeling,” Kathy said.

“How did your phone call to the realtor go?”

Kathy kept her gaze fixed on her paintbrush. “Fine.”

“When do you get to see the wreck?”

“This afternoon around four. Want to come?”

“Sure. In fact, you might want to invite Anissa to come along with you. She’s into fixing up old houses.”

Kathy’s head turned so fast she was in danger of whiplash. “Really? Is she a contractor?”

“I don’t think so. But it sounds like she’s worked for a few.”

“Do you have her number?”

Tori shook her head. “But she’s going to stay at her father’s house for the next couple of days. We could drive over there and see if she’s interested. Maybe you could offer to pay her a few bucks for an opinion on the place. I think she could use the money.”

Kathy nodded and dipped her brush back into the can that sat on the stepladder’s little shelf. “Maybe we can head over to her place after lunch. In the meantime, grab a brush and let’s get this sucker painted. We’ve got lots of other stuff to do today.”

Tori glanced at her watch before she stooped to grab one of the four-inch brushes that sat on the tarp. It was a little after ten. That didn’t give them much time to paint, visit Anissa, and head over to the wreck. Then again, the June days were long and the sun was shining. Perhaps they could finish the first coat today. Perhaps.

#

Irene didn’t leave for another twenty minutes. It was ten minutes after that when Herb poked his head out of the bait shop and hollered, “What in God’s name have you done?”

“Great color, huh, Mr. Cannon?” Kathy said enthusiastically.

“In the tropics. Girl, don’t you know this is Western New York?” His angry glare was aimed straight at Tori.

“Kathy thinks, and I agree, that we need to stand out from our competition.”

“We’ll sure as hell stand out—and be the laughing stock of the bay.”

“I don’t think so,” Kathy said. “Give it a couple of weeks. If you’re not making double your money on sales, I’ll come back and paint it white—and all by myself, too.”

Herb smiled. He was a gambling man if the stack of losing lottery tickets they’d found while cleaning the night before was any indication. “You’re on.”

“You want to give us a hand, Gramps?” Tori asked.

Herb reached a hand around to rub his back. “I’d like to, girls, but that old sciatica has set in again.”

“Uh-huh,” Tori muttered. “How did your visit with Irene go?” Tori asked.

Herb grimaced. “She hinted that we should hook up.”

“What?” Tori asked, appalled. “Grandma’s only been in the ground a few days.”