Premeditated Mortar Read online

  “Sounds reasonable.”

  “Oh, and Mac,” she continued. “I must caution that it’s not safe to wander around alone up there. Not just yet. By the time we open it up to the tenants and their construction crews next week, everything should be perfectly safe and wonderful.”

  “Good to hear. Thanks, Rachel. See you tomorrow.”

  He ended the call and looked at me. “No workers are up there, according to Rachel.”

  “I heard her.” I huffed out a breath. “But I saw someone. If Rachel doesn’t know anything about it, then the guy must’ve broken in.”

  He grabbed my hand and held it. “Look, it could be perfectly harmless. Maybe some guy wanted to get a head start on cleaning and prepping his space.”

  “Maybe.” I nodded. “Okay, yeah, I’m sure it’s completely innocent. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “You don’t sound any more certain of that than I am.”

  “Because I’m not. I guess it’s because he was trying really hard not to be seen.” I pictured the guy again. “He was running, but he looked, I don’t know. Furtive, I guess. Sneaky. Like he knew we were there and he didn’t want us to see him. You know what I mean?”

  “I know exactly what you mean.”

  I worried about it for another moment, but I had to wonder why I was worried. Was it because of my tendency to stumble onto murders? Boy, I hoped not. Finally, I waved the worries away. “I’m making too much of this.”

  But Mac wasn’t ready to let it go. “Your instincts are usually right on. And look, it’s not like the place is very secure. Anyone can climb a chain-link fence.”

  “And we didn’t go all the way around the property. Maybe there’s a spot where the fence has been pulled down.”

  “Totally possible. But look, instead of dwelling on it, let’s just assume the guy you saw was a new tenant who wanted to get in there for some reason. But he knows he’s not supposed to, so when he saw your truck drive up and saw us walking around, he thought he’d better be careful. He thought he had to sneak around instead of just walking over and saying hello to us.”

  “That’s probably all it was.” But I decided right then to call Eric as soon as we got home and ask if he had assigned anyone to patrol the Gables property. Enough strange things had happened in Lighthouse Cove over the last few years that I didn’t want to take a chance on something going wrong with this huge new project.

  * * *

  * * *

  Mac stayed over that night, and the next morning as he scrambled some eggs and buttered two pieces of toast, we talked about his expectations for the meeting with the Gables developer later that morning.

  I poured more coffee for both of us. “It sounds like you’ve made up your mind to invest in the project.”

  “After we went up there, I thought about it all afternoon. It’s a fabulous location and even though I haven’t seen the inside, I’m really interested. So I talked to my business manager and my agent, and then called my broker. They’re all for it. But you’re the one who ultimately convinced me. And the fact that Jane is involved is one more reason to go for it.”

  “You’re going to make Rachel’s day,” I said. “She sounded positively giddy over the phone yesterday.”

  “Well, let’s not forget I’m giving her a boatload of cash.”

  “Boatloads of cash always make me giddy.”

  He laughed. “I won’t make my final-final decision until I meet her and actually see inside the place. If I get a good feeling about the whole deal, I’ll pull the trigger.”

  “Okay.” I took a sip of coffee, then considered. “You’re going to need a hard hat for the tour.”

  With a grin he asked, “You got one I can borrow?”

  “I might have one or two hanging around.”

  “Great.” Then his eyes narrowed. “Are they pink?”

  I was well known for using pink tools on my construction sites, along with pink hard hats and tool belts. My pink tools were just as rugged and strong as the usual ones, but for some reason my guys never mistook them for their own.

  “I do have a pink hat,” I said, “but you can use the manly blue one if you prefer.”

  “Definitely,” he said, his voice going deeper than normal.

  I chuckled. “I’ll get it for you.” At the back door, I turned. “Hey, you should see if Rachel will give you a tour of Jane’s hotel space. Then we can compare notes.”

  He shot me an appreciative look. “Great idea.”

  As I walked out to the garage, I wondered if one building inside the Gables was pretty much the same as another. Since I had only seen inside Building Seven, I didn’t know if it was in worse or better condition than the others. It didn’t matter, I thought, but I was hoping Mac would be able to tour a couple of the buildings and give me his impressions.

  * * *

  * * *

  An hour later I stood in the driveway and waved good-bye to Mac, just as Jane pulled up in front of my house. The two of them waved to each other and Jane walked up the drive.

  “Hey, kiddo,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

  “I just got home from the conference last night so I thought I’d come by and say hello. And also talk to you about the Gables project.”

  “Well then, hello.” I gave her a hug. “Let’s go inside.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “How’s Mac?”

  “He’s wonderful. He’s going up to tour the Gables this morning.”

  “Really? With Rachel?”

  “Yeah. He’s thinking of investing.”

  “That would be fantastic.”

  “I think he’s almost convinced. I’m hoping Rachel does a good job of selling it to him.”

  “Oh, she will. She’s gaga over the place.”

  “Good.” I pushed open the kitchen door. “Come on in.”

  We were greeted at the door by Robbie, who barked joyfully. I shook my head. “You’d think I’d been gone for a year.”

  “Oh, but he’s such a good boy,” Jane said, and knelt down to play with the frisky dog. “Yes, you are.”

  Tiger was her usual aloof self, although she did finally stroll over to rub up against Jane’s legs. Jane reached down and gave the cat’s soft furry back a few long strokes.

  “Do you want coffee?” I asked.

  She stood. “Sure. Thanks.”

  I poured two mugs and set them on the table. Jane sat down and I joined her.

  “So, Mac spent the night.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes.”

  She looked at me through narrowed eyes. “Is he moving in?”

  “No.” I smiled at her and placed a pitcher of half-and-half on the table. “He just likes to spend time with me and it makes me happy to have him here.”

  Jane gave me a cockeyed look. “Why doesn’t he just move in?”

  “Because he has his own beautiful home just up the highway. And I should know how beautiful it is because I did the full rehab, remember?”

  “You’re skirting the issue, Shannon.”

  “Maybe.” I gave a light shrug.

  “He’s here most of the time and he wants to be with you. So why haven’t you invited him to move in?”

  “I’ve told him he’s welcome to stay with me anytime he wants.”

  “That’s not the same thing.”

  I sighed. “Do you want sugar?”

  “Yes, please.”

  I jumped up and grabbed the sugar bowl from the counter. “I just don’t want to push it.”

  “No, you wouldn’t,” she murmured. “But you should because you deserve to be happy.”

  “I am happy,” I insisted, sitting down and sliding the sugar bowl over to her. “Heck, most days I’m practically ecstatic.”

  She eyed me with suspicion. “The fact that you don’t
want to push it makes me think you’re afraid to push it.”

  Up to this point, the conversation was a familiar one, but I was about to delve into new territory.

  “I’m not afraid,” I insisted. “Well, not exactly. Okay, maybe I’m a little afraid, but it’s not the kind of fear that has me shrieking at a bug or freaking out in a dark basement.”

  “Of course not. You’re the bravest person I know.” She grimaced. “I’m the one who’s afraid of bugs.”

  I smiled at her. It was true. “It’s just that I feel like Mac and I have gotten to the point in our relationship where I just want to know what the next step is. But it’s hard to ask that question without sounding pathetic.”

  “I totally get that.” She clutched her collar and whined, “Don’t you want to marry me?”

  I laughed. “Yeah. Sounds pretty lame.”

  “But you still want to know.”

  I sighed. “I guess I’m worried that things between us will change if I go there.”

  Jane nodded slowly, then shrugged. “So for now, don’t go there. And maybe one of these days when you least expect it, he’ll go there.”

  “So just wait for him to make the move.” I winced. “Does that make me a complete chicken?”

  “Not at all,” she said stoutly, then thought about it. “Well, maybe half a chicken.”

  I chuckled. “Your unflinching support makes me feel all warm and snuggly.”

  She smacked my arm. “You know I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  She took a sip of coffee. “I actually stopped by to see you for another reason.”

  “To bolster me with your love and support?”

  “Naturally. But also, I wanted to ask if you’d come over to the B and B sometime this week and take a look at the crown molding you did for the Ophelia Suite.”

  Jane had named each room of Hennessey House after one of Shakespeare’s heroines. Ophelia was an exquisite jewel box of a room on the second floor with an extra-high ceiling and a tiny balcony overlooking the garden.

  “Why?” I frowned. “Is it cracked? Is it falling down?”

  “No. It’s perfect. I love the twelve-inch moldings and the way you edged them with the sunflower ceiling frieze and the step-up at the inside corners. I want you to do that for the rooms at the Gables.”

  “Okay. But I don’t have to look at it. I know what I did.”

  “I know, but I’m just concerned that the rounded corners near the ceilings will be a problem. I’d like to talk it through, if you have time.”

  I gazed at her. “You’re nervous.”

  “Of course I’m nervous,” she said. “I’m scared to death. What was I thinking, opening a brand-new hotel?”

  “You were thinking that this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to expand your business while also giving you a chance to transform a dark moment from your past into lightness and joy.”

  She sniffled. “You nailed it.”

  “It’s a gift.” I handed her a tissue.

  “Thanks.” Jane blew her nose and then took a deep breath. “It’s going to be great, right?”

  I grinned. “It’s going to be super great.”

  “Okay.” She shook her head back and forth as if to readjust her brain cells. “I’m good.”

  “Of course you are, and so am I.”

  She took another sip of coffee. “I also want to show you this old architectural magazine that I ordered online. It came in the mail while I was gone and I should’ve brought it with me, but I was out running errands and didn’t think. And then I just decided to come by and take a chance that you might be home.”

  “So tell me about the magazine.”

  “There’s an article that features a couple of institutions that were built around the same time as the Gables. There’s a reference to one of the doctors who played a role in the design of the buildings and some of his theories. Anyway, I thought you might want to take a look at it.”

  “Do you remember the doctor’s name?”

  “No, sorry. But there are some great photographs of the rooms and the hallways and stuff. It might be helpful.”

  “Absolutely.” I checked my wristwatch. “I can come over now if you’re up for it.”

  “Oh, that’s great.” She waved her hands rapidly, as if she were nervous about making a speech. “But first, I need to make one more comment about you and Mac.”

  I steadied myself in my chair. “Okay.”

  “He loves you, Shannon. It’s so obvious. And he would be a fool to ever leave you.”

  My friend Jane was a true romantic who saw love and devotion everywhere she turned.

  “And Mac is no fool,” I said lightly.

  “That’s right.”

  “So what am I worried about?”

  “Nothing, I hope.”

  I stood and wrapped my arms around her. “Thank you.” Then I picked up her empty coffee mug and set it in the sink. “Let’s go check out your crown moldings.”

  * * *

  * * *

  I followed Jane toward Main Street and turned, then drove a few blocks and turned on Olive Street. In front of the beautiful old Victorian mansion, I pulled up to the curb. Jane continued until she reached the driveway and parked in the renovated garage behind the property.

  We met on the sidewalk in front of Hennessey House and walked up the steps to the wide, wraparound porch. I took a moment to bask in the glow of pride I always felt when gazing at this elegant Queen Anne Victorian with its three-story circular tower, its six chimneys, its quirky roofline, and its multiple mini-balconies.

  “We did good work here,” I murmured.

  “Yeah, we did.” Jane slipped her arm through mine and gave me a light squeeze. “Let’s go inside.”

  We walked into the comfortable front room, where Jane greeted two guests who were sitting on the wide sofa reading books.

  After a moment, I followed Jane into the hall and up the stairs to the second floor, then down the hall to the Ophelia Suite. As she unlocked the door, she said, “I’m expecting a guest to arrive in a few minutes so I don’t want to take too much time.”

  “I don’t need much time.” I was already staring up at the elegant white crown molding that contrasted so beautifully with the blue walls. For some reason, I could still recall the name of the paint we’d used. “Stone blue,” because of the touch of gray mixed in with the blue. It gave the room a calmness that I imagined the guests appreciated.

  “What do you think about duplicating this pattern in the Gables rooms?” Jane asked.

  “It’s fabulous, isn’t it?” I pulled my phone out and took some photographs.

  “I thought you remembered exactly what you did.”

  “I do, but I still want to have some pictures to refer to when I’m up at the Gables.”

  I stared at the fancy embellishments for another long moment. “Now that I’m seeing it again on this fourteen-foot-high ceiling, I’m not sure the style will work for those twenty-foot ceilings at the Gables. But we’ll see how it goes.”

  “Why wouldn’t it work?”

  I shrugged. “You might not want something this fancy. The Gables’ ceilings are so ridiculously tall that it might be interesting to go more minimalist and put the emphasis on the floor-to-ceiling windows, maybe hang some really awesome long drapes. Maybe give it a whole monochromatic effect. Or not. I don’t know. Let’s see how we feel when we get up there.”

  Jane smiled at me. “That’s a really good idea. The drapes, the minimalism. I like it.”

  “Think about it.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  We headed downstairs and as we stepped into the hallway, we heard someone speaking loudly at the front desk.

  “I don’t know why everything has to change so much,” a woman griped. “Wh
y are there so many cars? I used to live here and I don’t remember taking that turnoff from the highway. And now there are so many stop lights.”

  Sandra Larsen, Jane’s unflappable assistant manager, spoke in a friendly tone. “Lighthouse Cove has grown a bit since the last time you were here, Ms. Baxter. But I think you’ll find that we still have the same small-town sensibility and friendliness we’ve always had.”

  “I don’t know about that,” the older woman said. “I noticed they put angle parking on Main Street. In my day, people knew how to parallel park.”

  Jane walked quickly toward the front desk. “Is everything all right here, Sandra?”

  “Just dandy. I was just helping Ms. Baxter check in.”

  “Yes, of course. Hello, Ms. Baxter. I’m Jane Hennessey.”

  “Hello. I’m Prudence Baxter.” She sounded a little paranoid, as though she might’ve thought Jane was lying about her name. Or maybe she thought Jane was faking that whole “nice” act. The woman was a pain! While Jane was the personification of grace under fire.

  The woman was thin and probably about fifty years old, but her style of dress made her look much older. A starched, white, long-sleeved blouse was tucked into a prim, pleated navy skirt that came down well below her knees. The chunky black shoes she wore added to the spinster look. Her hair was long and gray and she had it pulled back tightly in a single braid down her back.

  She looked like a really strict schoolmarm.

  “It’s wonderful to meet you,” Jane said. “You’ll be staying in our Ophelia Suite and I hope you enjoy it. It’s a lovely room with a small balcony overlooking the gardens. Do you have any luggage I can carry upstairs for you?”

  And just like that, Ms. Baxter was mollified. Or as mollified as she would ever be, I thought. The woman seemed genetically incapable of saying anything pleasant.

  “It’ll just take another minute,” Sandra said.

  “Then I’ll be right back after I see Shannon to the door.” She nudged her chin to indicate which way to go and we walked quickly in that direction.