Premeditated Mortar Read online

“No, we had to get inside and look it over. Now that we know it, we’ll be able to schedule accordingly.” Wade tapped his tablet and then swiped to another page. “We’ve got three more guys starting tomorrow so we’ll see how it goes for a few days. If we decide we need to go faster, I can always add more workers to this team.”

  “Good.” I observed the work for one more minute. “The walls are so high we might have to put up scaffolding sooner than we’d planned.”

  “We scheduled it to go up next week because we first wanted to see if the ladders alone would be enough.” He glanced at me and shrugged. “Yeah, we’ll need scaffolding.”

  I watched him make notes on his tablet screen, then folded my arms across my chest and stared up at the flaking ceiling. “Is there any way to attach one of those paint scrapers to a long pole so the guys don’t have to keep climbing up and down the ladders and stretching out over the side rails?”

  Wade stared at me for a few seconds. “Not a bad idea. I’ll talk to Arnie.”

  Arnie was our painting expert. He had spent years painting hundreds of those old beautiful Victorian homes in San Francisco before moving to Lighthouse Cove. We were lucky to get him.

  Five minutes later Wade came back wearing a grin and carrying a pole with a tool attached at one end. “Check it out. Arnie had this in with his supplies. Calls it a scraper extender.”

  “Ingenious name,” I said with a laugh. “Because that’s exactly what it is.” I studied the homemade contraption. The large handle of the paint scraper was soldered and bolted into the hollow end of the pole. “It’s smart. And it feels strong enough. Did Arnie make it himself?”

  “Yeah. And see, the pole itself extends like a tripod.” Wade demonstrated. “You loosen or tighten these interlocking doohickeys and you can extend it up to ten feet. He says you don’t want it much longer than that because it starts to lose stability, especially since the guys will have to push the scraper pretty hard to get all this old paint off.”

  I gazed at him. “Doohickeys?”

  He grinned. “Technical term.”

  “So they’ll still have to use the ladders, but they won’t have to strain quite so hard and move the ladders so often.”

  “And risk falling,” he added.

  “Exactly.” The thought of anyone falling made my stomach twist into a knot. “Any chance Arnie can make a few more of these?”

  “He’s got a couple more in his truck. I’ll ask if he can rig four or five more.”

  “That would be great. If he needs cash to buy the parts, tell him to see me.”

  “Okay.” Wade stared again at his tablet screen and swiped to another page. “I think you’re right about the scaffolding. It’ll have to go up sooner than we planned. And it’ll stay up for the duration because the guys will need to get up close in order to sand the ceiling surfaces and then brush them down, then patch, prime, and paint.”

  I blew out a breath. “Jeez, does it feel like this project will take forever?”

  “A little bit.” He shrugged. “But we’ve done it all before. And we have a full year to finish the job.”

  “And it’s only the first day.” I glanced up at him and chuckled ruefully. “Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of my downer attitude before tomorrow.”

  He studied my face. “You do seem a little down. What’s up?”

  “Those protesters showing up really bummed me out. I sympathize with them, but I hope they don’t come back.”

  “I’m sorry we weren’t out there to help you all face them down.”

  “Mac took care of one of the main troublemakers. And let’s not forget, I brought down the other one—with a little help.”

  He gave me a pat on the back. “Mac can handle himself, but I would’ve liked to see you in action.”

  I grimaced. “It wasn’t pretty. I kind of wish you guys had been out there.”

  He chuckled. “I’d like to watch those punks try to intimidate Sean.”

  That made me smile. “Sean Brogan never took grief from anyone.” Sean was one of my oldest friends and a real sweetheart. And he was built like a linebacker.

  “You shouldn’t have to worry about protesters after today,” Wade said. “Now that Chief Jensen has assigned the cops to patrol the area, we won’t have any more trouble.”

  I really hoped we hadn’t just jinxed ourselves.

  * * *

  * * *

  At the end of the day after my crew had gone home, Jane and I took a stroll through the hotel to get a better feeling for the space and for the amount of work we would have to get done over the next few days. Jane had a rough idea of what each room would be used for and how she would furnish them, but her plans would change and grow as we got to know the place better.

  From the foyer we walked down the main hallway, stopping at each of the eight large rooms that opened onto the hall. We guessed that these had once been used as reception areas, staff rooms, doctors’ offices, and business offices for this wing of the asylum. Jane stepped inside the first room on the left, closest to the front doorway.

  It was a large square room with a big picture window that faced west. Thin blue film still adhered to the window glass to protect it from dirt, smudges, fingerprints, and paint spatter during the rehab process.

  “Do you remember going into this room when we visited my mother?” Jane asked.

  “No.” I stared at the walls and ceiling, intrigued. “Did they bring us in here?”

  Jane sighed. “Yes, this is where Uncle Jesse had to sign in whenever we came to visit.”

  “Oh God, Jane. I’m so sorry I forgot.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s just . . .” Her eyes clouded up. “I remember everything.”

  I slipped my arm through hers and pulled her close. “With all the emotional trauma you went through during those years, your awareness must’ve been heightened to the max. Even though you were so young.”

  “I was eight years old the first time I came here to see her.”

  “So young,” I murmured, repeating myself.

  “Yeah.” But she smiled. “Honestly, I’m thrilled for the chance to transform it into a beautiful space for her and for everyone who was here. Even so, once in a while it hits me.”

  “I know what you mean. There are a lot of ghosts in here.”

  She looked at me. “You’re seeing ghosts?”

  I chuckled. “No, just feeling the vibes. They’re heavy.”

  “Yeah, they are.” She turned in a circle. “But this room will be really lovely when it’s finished. I’ll use it as our registration office. It should be as close to the front entrance as possible, don’t you think?”

  “Definitely. We can knock out part of this wall, too, if you want, so the room itself will be even more accessible to the front entrance. How do you see it set up?”

  She walked around, thinking for a minute, then pointing. “We’ll have an elegant wooden counter here. Maybe Amanda can do a design of wood inlays.”

  “She absolutely could.”

  “And then a couple of nice chairs on this side for guests who are waiting to check in. The rest of the area behind the counter will be taken up with desks for other personnel.”

  “I can see it,” I said.

  “A computer and credit card machine at the counter. Then four or five desks spread out on this side, with computers, copier, fax machine, space for a reservations clerk or two and a few clerical workers. Maybe an onsite web designer? An IT guy? Who knows?”

  She was mostly talking to herself, already picturing it, so I quickly opened my tablet and began making notes. Jane might change her mind later, but at least this would give me a rough idea of what she had in mind with the rooms off this hallway. We hadn’t been able to go into this much detail when we’d been given the tour last month. We had spent that visit mainly trying to figure out how much
time and manpower it would take to simply clean up the place.

  The room on the opposite side of the hall had the same layout and the same wonderful picture window. Jane suggested that it might make a nice sitting area or lobby, with comfortable couches and chairs, a coffee service, maybe a wide-screen television mounted on the wall. It could be a place where guests could relax while they planned their day trips, and it would be nice to have a concierge desk with information about tours and whatnot. And with the picture window it would be a lovely spot for guests to gaze at the view while they waited to be picked up and taken to the airport.

  We walked farther down the main hall and found the elevator—an ancient one, but still functional and larger than most. I pushed the call button and it lit up. “I don’t want to go for a ride, but I’d like to see what the elevator’s interior looks like.”

  “I’m just glad there is an elevator,” she said, and when the door opened, she stared inside. “Wow, it’s so big.”

  “It had to be big enough to transport gurneys up and down to the other floors.”

  She gazed at me. “You’re right. How do you know that?”

  “I’ve done some research,” I said with a shrug.

  “Of course you have.” She just smiled and we continued walking. “The elevator interior will look as classy as the rest of the place. Maybe we’ll put a plush little bench in there.”

  “To rest your weary legs while you’re transported all the way up to the third floor.”

  “Exactly,” she said, laughing.

  “How are you feeling after this first day?” I asked.

  “I’m totally psyched,” she said, wrapping her arms around her chest. “This was such a good idea. I didn’t always think so, as you know, but now I do. It’s a sound investment and it’s going to be an incredibly popular place to vacation.”

  “I agree. And it’ll be so fresh and elegant and beautifully furnished, and the view is so fantastic that people will love it.”

  She grabbed my arm and squeezed excitedly. “It’s really happening, Shannon. I honestly wasn’t sure this day would ever come, but now I’m so happy.”

  “I’m happy for you.”

  We reached the impressive stairway and looked up. Like the hallway, the stairs themselves were twenty feet wide, with thick mahogany railings and heavy, highly polished newel posts. Halfway up was a landing that stretched forty feet across with a floor-to-ceiling window that was covered in blue paper but would eventually reveal a totally breathtaking view of the coastline.

  “This is so grand,” I said. We climbed the stairs to the landing, then stared up at the remaining set of stairs that would take us to the second floor.

  “I didn’t remember that front room from before,” I said. “But I remember these stairs.”

  “They made an impression.”

  “Your mom was in this building.” It wasn’t a question. I knew her mother had lived here, on the top floor.

  “Yes.”

  “I only came inside once and they made me stay in some other room while you and Jesse went upstairs. It must’ve been that front room.”

  “Probably.”

  “But I did get a look at this stairway from all the way down the hall. It’s memorable.”

  “That was the time Mom was too sick to come downstairs. But even so, they had her sitting out in the hall. They didn’t allow any patients to stay in their rooms during the day, so even when someone was sick they were carted out to sit in the hall or out on the lawn if the weather was good enough.”

  I had read about the practice of making patients leave their rooms during the day. This was one of the reasons why the halls were so wide. They had chairs lined up along the walls and insisted that patients sit out there, even when they had nothing to do. It made sense for security purposes so the staff could more easily keep an eye on everyone and limit the possibility of self-harm if someone was left alone in the room.

  “The other two times I came with you,” I said, “your mom was resting outside on the lawn.”

  “She loved it out on the lawn,” Jane murmured.

  “Did you ever get the chance to see inside her room?”

  “That one time Uncle Jesse and I were allowed upstairs, I sneaked a peek. Mom told me it was okay as long as I didn’t get caught. All I remember is that the windows were so big and the ceiling was so high, it was almost overwhelming. The next time we came to visit, one of the doctors said they didn’t allow kids on the upper floors, so Jesse and I didn’t mention that I’d been allowed to go up there a few weeks before.”

  “Someone would’ve been punished.”

  “Probably. Anyway, we were sitting on the lawn and Mom pointed out her room to me. She said she knew which room was hers because she had taped a little picture of me on the window and sure enough, you could see the little square of paper all the way from the lawn.”

  “That’s a sweet memory.”

  “Yeah.” She shrugged. “That’s what she said, anyway.”

  “Then it must be true.” Again I slipped my arm through hers and we continued walking leisurely up the stairs. “It’s going to be beautiful, Jane.”

  “I’m sorry it wasn’t so beautiful back then, just utilitarian. And sad.” Her eyes clouded up again. “My mom deserved to have pretty things. She deserved to be happy.”

  I squeezed her arm. “She would be happy to know you’re doing this for her.”

  She sniffled once, then smiled. “I think so. You’ll probably think it’s strange, but I’m happy when I’m here. I’m happy knowing that Mom would’ve loved the changes we’re making.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” I gave her a sideways glance. “Maybe another reason you’re happy here is because Niall is here, too, working with you every day.”

  She grinned impishly. “That might have a little something to do with it.”

  “I plan to have enough work to keep him busy for most of the year.”

  “Yay!” She waved her hands in a cheer.

  I laughed. “He might not have the same level of enthusiasm for all the work I’m giving him.”

  “He loves his job.”

  “And I love having him on the crew.” We reached the second floor and I glanced around. “It’s pretty dark up here.”

  “And it looks like it gets darker the farther up we go.”

  “We can turn on the lights. No problem.”

  But she was staring up toward the third floor. “I was thinking we might try to find my mom’s room, but I’d rather wait and do it in the daytime.”

  “Okay. The guys are still cleaning up the first floor so you might want to wait until they’ve reached the third floor before going up there.”

  “Good idea.”

  We turned around and headed downstairs. “Oh, maybe while I have you here, I can show you what Niall was working on today. I think you’ll find it intriguing.”

  “I happen to think that everything around here is intriguing.” She continued looking every which way, studying each little nook and cranny.

  “I do, too. But this is more like an actual mystery. I wanted Niall to figure out what that odd wall in the back hallway is all about.”

  “Which odd wall?”

  “I’ll show it to you. You weren’t around when Wade and Carla and I checked it out earlier.”

  “No.” She thought for a second. “Where was I?”

  “I don’t know. I couldn’t find you and neither could Niall, so we went on our own.”

  “Oh, wait,” she said, suddenly remembering. “Sorry. I had to leave for an hour or so. It’s been such a busy day, I completely forgot.”

  “Where’d you go?”

  “Sandra called, said she needed me to help with some guest issues at the Inn.”

  “Everything okay?”

  Jane grinned. “Oh,
yeah. Turns out, this couple just wanted to meet me and tell me how wonderful everything was.”

  “You’re kidding. They couldn’t tell Sandra?”

  She sighed. “Hennessey House was recommended to them by some big-deal friends of theirs who apparently gushed about me. So these people wanted to be able to tell their friends that they actually met me.”

  “Because you’re . . . a celebrity?”

  “I know, right?” She rolled her eyes. “You’d probably consider it a waste of my time and I was a little annoyed at first. But you know, I was glad I went. They were thrilled to pieces and now they have bragging rights with their friends and have promised to come back as a foursome. So hey, I improved our customer relations, and that’s always a good thing.”

  “Definitely. And they’ll recommend you to all their other friends, too.”

  “But it’s weird, right? I don’t get it.”

  “It’s a little weird that they insisted,” I agreed. “But you should probably get used to it. You’ve developed a reputation as a fabulous hotelier and everyone wants to meet you.”

  Jane’s expression was dripping with skepticism. “Okay, whatever.”

  I just laughed. “Wait until this hotel is up and running. They’ll put you on the cover of People or something.”

  Jane laughed out loud and I smiled at the sound. But then I suddenly remembered something. “I completely forgot to tell you. Speaking of your guests, one of them was out protesting this morning.”

  She stopped halfway down the stairs. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your grumpy guest, Prudence Baxter, was one of those rowdy protesters. In fact, she deliberately elbowed me and I had to shove her away.”

  She stared in disbelief. “Are you kidding?”

  “I wish I was. Then she bumped into the guy carrying the can of blood and almost knocked him down.”

  “This is unbelievable.”

  “I know. I thought it was pretty rude of her to be staying at your B and B while protesting against your future hotel.”

  “That’s so insulting. I should kick her out.” She shook her head. “But I won’t.”

  “But you should. But no, you won’t, because you’re too polite.”