A Reel Catch Read online

  “No, ma’am. I just wanted to make sure I have all your personal information.”

  “Couldn’t you just look it up in your files from last year?” Anissa asked and Tori gave her a nudge to cool it.

  “We’re more than happy to cooperate,” Kathy said sincerely.

  Osborn took down their full names, phone numbers, and addresses.

  “What’s going to happen to the body?” Kathy asked.

  “It’ll be autopsied to try to ascertain the cause of death, and then go into the cooler for a time in hopes someone will identify it and assume responsibility.”

  “And if that doesn’t happen?”

  “The county will have to bear the expense of burial.”

  “Poor man,” Tori said. “I mean—it was a man, wasn’t it?”

  “Apparently,” Osborn agreed. He stuffed his notebook into his coat pocket. “If you ladies will excuse me. I’ll be in touch.” He turned for the hall and the front door.

  “Aren’t you gonna say thank you?” Anissa called after him.

  Osborn pivoted. “What for?”

  “For being good citizens and reporting the body.”

  For a moment, Kathy thought Osborn might explode. But then he answered through gritted teeth. “Thank you.”

  Kathy saw him out and returned to the kitchen to find her friends again munching cookies and sipping cocoa.

  “Did you have to tease him?” she asked Anissa.

  “I didn’t have to—I just wanted to.”

  “You could get us all in trouble.”

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know. Disrespecting authority?”

  “I predict the detective won’t bother. The guy drowned. End of story.”

  “You hope,” Tori said.

  The three of them looked at one another.

  Kathy knew that she sure hoped that would be the last they heard about dead plaid guy. And yet … the tight feeling in her stomach told her otherwise.

  2

  Technically, Cannon Bait and Tackle was open for the season, but the day had been so raw and nobody had come around, so Tori hadn’t bothered to even open that morning. But when she got back from Swans Nest, she saw a strange car on the lot and a man dressed in a black raincoat, what her grandfather had called a porkpie hat, and smoking a cigarette, looking at The Lotus Inn, giving it a thorough going over.

  “Can I help you?” Tori asked.

  The man turned. “Looking for the owner of this fine establishment.”

  “That would be me.” Tori offered her hand. “Tori Cannon.”

  “Rick Shepherd.” They shook hands and then he handed her a business card: Shepherd Enterprises Ltd.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Shepherd?”

  “Call me Rick. I’m scouting the area for development opportunities. Your little motel has seen happier days.”

  “It’s been closed for a decade, but I have plans to resurrect it in the not-too-distant future.”

  “Then isn’t it lucky I just happened to come by?”

  Lucky? She doubted that. It wasn’t exactly a secret that she hoped to reopen The Lotus Lodge and that it was a distinct lack of capital that kept her from doing so. She’d scraped by, financially, during the winter—and that was mostly because of substitute teaching. She was counting on a good summer season to get her on track to save a little money toward refurbishing the seven-room motel. She had equity in the place but wasn’t in a position to pay back a substantial loan should the fishing season turn to crap due to weather or some other unforeseen problem. “What did you have it mind?” she asked.

  Shepherd took a last drag on his cigarette, tossed the butt on the ground, and stomped on it. “Ideally, to buy the entire enterprise.”

  Tori stared at the offending butt, then raised her gaze to stare at Shepherd. “This business has been in my family for almost fifty years. I intend to make that a century.”

  “Would you be open to a partnership deal?”

  Tori shrugged. “I guess that would depend on the terms.”

  “I’m a busy man. I wouldn’t have time to run such an operation, but I’d consider keeping you on for that responsibility.

  Tori merely looked at him. Oh, would you?

  “I’m sure we could hammer out an agreement.”

  “You haven’t even properly examined the property.” And she wasn’t sure she wanted to take a stranger on a tour—not while she was on her own on site. However Kathy and Anissa were right across the street—just a phone call away.

  “Why don’t I call my contractor? She could be here in a matter of minutes.”

  “If I were to invest in the property, I’d want to bring in my own people to do the work.”

  She nodded—but they were nowhere near an agreement so that point was moot. She would have to know a heck of a lot more about Rick Shepherd before she would even consider doing business with him.

  “Just a moment.” Tori turned, pulled her cell phone from her pocket, and called Anissa. “Can you drop what you’re doing and come over to the compound? There’s a guy here who wants to invest in The Lotus Lodge.”

  “You’re kidding? Be right there. Hey, Kath—you won’t believe this,” Anissa said, and then the connection was broken.

  “When was the motel originally built?” Shepherd asked, taking in the shabby façade and missing stucco.

  “I’m not certain, but I could look it up.”

  “And you say it’s been a decade since it was in use?”

  “My grandmother ran it—singlehandedly,” Tori said with some pride. “But eventually it became too much for her.”

  “I’m seeing this as a two-to-three person seasonal operation. But with a bit of decent marketing, it could evolve to year-round, at least for a few of the units—on weekends.”

  He’d been thinking along the same lines as Tori. And how had he found out about The Lotus Lodge?

  “Hey, Tori,” Anissa called as she approached, and right behind her was Kathy. Good. Tori could handle herself in just about any situation, but Shepherd was a big, burly man, and Tori’s hackles had been raised, although she wasn’t exactly quite sure why. Having back-up by two of her BFFs was comforting.

  “Mr. Shepherd, I’d like you to meet my contractor, Anissa Jackson. Anissa, this is Rick Shepherd.”

  “My pleasure, Ms. Jackson. It’s not often I meet a lady contractor.”

  “Well, then you ought to get out more often,” Anissa said and laughed, but Tori heard the undercurrent of annoyance in her friend’s voice.

  “Just what is your expertise, Ms. Jackson?”

  Anissa stood tall and Tori was glad her friend still wore a tool belt around her waist. It gave her a level of authority that Tori wished she possessed.

  “My current project is the restoration of the Swans Nest property across the road. And what’s your claim to fame?”

  Shepherd laughed. “I own forty-seven hospitality properties in Central and Western New York. Restaurants, B and Bs, and franchised motels. I’m on the lookout for other properties and I’m drawn to The Lotus Lodge.”

  “How did you hear about it?” Anissa asked, and Tori’s ears perked up. Yeah, she’d like to know the answer to that question, too.

  “I like to take rides around the state. I saw the for-sale sign on this place late last summer and cursed the fact I didn’t act on it back then. It was taken off the market before I got a chance to bid on it.”

  If Tori’s grandfather hadn’t won the Mega Millions Lottery the previous summer, he would have jumped at the opportunity to sell the place off to the highest bidder. It was only the fact that Tori’s grandmother’s best friend—and now likely at some future date her step-grandmother, Irene Timmons—had wanted to see Tori carry on the family business that Tori was able to buy the property for one dollar and now struggled to keep the bait and tackle part of the operation alive. There was potential in the property. Resurrecting The Lotus Lodge was just one possible source of income. Anissa had suggest
ed, and on more than one occasion, that the upper level of the boathouse could be converted into a high-end rental, and that appealed to Tori, too. The only thing that stopped her from doing any of that was a lack of capital. Was it worth seriously considering Shepherd’s offer?

  “What kind of investment are you talking about, Mr. Shepherd?” Kathy asked.

  “And you are?” he asked, and not too kindly.

  “Kathy Grant. I own the Swans Nest Inn across the road.”

  “Oh, yes. I’ve studied your website. It would be great for The Lotus Lodge to offer a better value for more cost-conscience clientele to your high-end establishment, especially in as rural a spot as Lotus Bay.”

  “I have not published my rates online, so I don’t see how you can say that I—” Kathy began, but Shepherd cut her off.

  “We have a different demographic in mind, Ms. Grant. You want to cater to the wedding crowd. I propose to cater to families and sportsmen and give them a much different guest experience than you.”

  Yeah, but the truth was that The Lotus Lodge might never be able to cater to a year-round audience—despite the possibility of ice-fishing clientele.

  “You’ve given me a lot to think about, Mr. Shepherd,” Tori said.

  “Call me Rick,” he insisted with what Tori thought of as a smarmy kind of smile.

  “Rick.”

  He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got an appointment with a restauranteur in Lotus Point in ten minutes, but I’ll be in touch. It was nice meeting you, Ms. Cannon.”

  “And you, Mr. Shepherd.”

  “Rick,” he insisted once again.

  “Rick.”

  He nodded toward the three women. “Ladies.”

  They watched as he headed for his black Mercedes, started the engine, backed up, and pulled out of the lot. No one spoke until he was out on the highway.

  “So, what do you think?” Anissa asked Tori.

  “I don’t know. I would have to see his proposal—in writing—before I could consider anything.”

  “You wouldn’t really let somebody else call the shots on The Lotus Lodge, would you?” Kathy asked, her tone conveying her disapproval.

  Tori let out a frustrated breath. “I really don’t know.”

  After Shepherd’s departure, Kathy and Anissa went back to Swans Nest to concentrate on work inside the house, and Tori returned to the bungalow to study her spreadsheet to try to figure out what she should buy to stock the bait shop—and worry about how she’d pay for it.

  A couple of hours later, the women gathered back in Tori’s kitchen and shared a frozen pizza—not great, but cheap and filling since it was doctored with extra mozzarella and the addition of sliced banana peppers, which were Kathy’s favorite topping.

  “What do we want to do now?” Kathy asked her friends after the one leftover slice had been wrapped and put in the fridge. “Want to watch TV?”

  “Boring!” Anissa asserted.

  “A DVD?” Kathy suggested.

  “We’ve watched everything we’ve got a gazillion times,” Tori said.

  Kathy frowned. “Cross the road and get stinking drunk?”

  “Now you’re talking,” Anissa said, although no matter how many times they’d visited The Bay Bar, none of them had ever left drunk. Tipsy maybe, but never drunk

  Shrugging into their jackets, they headed across the road for the only hot spot on the south end of Lotus Bay. As it was still quite early in the “season,” there were probably no more than a dozen or so patrons in the place and the three women took seats at the bar nearest the kitchen and away from the regular clientele. They didn’t really fit in, but nobody bothered them and they got a chance to connect with their friend and the bar’s cook and co-owner, Noreen.

  Paul Darcy, Noreen’s husband and the bartender, strolled up to the trio. “Hey, ladies—same old, same old?” he asked.

  “You got it,” Anissa answered. That meant a gin and tonic for Kathy, a Margarita for Tori, and a beer for Anissa.

  “Coming right up. Noreen—the girls are here,” Paul hollered in the direction of the saloon doors that separated the kitchen from the bar.

  “Be there in a minute!”

  The jukebox was quiet that night, as a cluster of guys at one end of the room watched a basketball game, while another had their eyes glued to another TV and the Yankees game.

  “I saw the Sheriff’s cruisers at your place today, Kath,” Paul said and the well gin bottle gurgled over a tall glass filled with ice. Since they were regulars—and Noreen’s friends—he was always a bit more generous with their pours.

  “Yeah, Tori found another dead guy,” Kathy said, then her gaze darted to Anissa. Tori had found Anissa’s father’s body stuffed into one of The Lotus Lodge’s ground-floor units the year before, but Anissa didn’t seem to take offense. “Some poor guy drowned. Detective Osborne said nobody had been reported missing, so Tori thinks he might be a Canuck.”

  “Poor sod,” Paul said and turned to pour Anissa’s favorite brew from one of the brass taps.

  “He’d been in the water quite a while,” Tori piped up and then shuddered.

  Paul retrieved the Margarita mix, poured it into a cocktail shaker, added the tequila, and then dipped the lip of an appropriate glass into salt before pouring the concoction. Finally, he laid out napkins before each of them and delivered the drinks. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  “Thanks,” the women chorused. Paul ambled back down the bar to check in on the basketball game.

  Noreen pushed through from the kitchen with a heavy china plate piled with piping hot mozzarella sticks and a ramekin filled with what looked like marinara sauce. “Hope you’re hungry,” she said, setting the plate down in front of Tori. “Dig in.”

  “Aw, you didn’t have to do that,” Kathy said.

  “Shut up,” Anissa said, and reached for one of the golden bundles, then immediately dropped it. “Wow—that’s hot.”

  “That’s God punishing you for telling me to shut up,” Kathy said with amusement.

  “They’re straight out of the fryer,” Noreen said and reached under the bar to grab a pile of paper napkins. “They’ll cool off fast enough.” Grabbing one of the napkins, she wrapped it around the end of one of the sticks, dropping it into the sauce to coat it, and then took a bite. “Mmm. Mighty good.”

  Anissa took a napkin and did the same. “Why is it your mouth can take temps higher than your fingers?”

  “Because we’ve gulped far too many hot cups of coffee over the years,” Kathy said.

  “I’ll say,” Tori agreed, even though they all knew she preferred tea.

  “You girls had a busy day,” Noreen commented.

  “Too busy,” Tori agreed and took a slug of her Margarita.

  “Besides the visits from the cops?”

  “Tori got propositioned,” Anissa said and laughed.

  Noreen poured herself a glass of ginger ale from the well trigger. “Oh yeah?”

  “Do you know a guy by the name of Rick Shepherd?”

  Noreen’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve heard of him.”

  “And?” Kathy prompted.

  Noreen frowned. “Let’s just say he has his sticky fingers in a lot of pots around here. Don’t tell me; he wants to buy the bait shop,” she stated.

  “Not exactly,” Tori said. “The Lotus Lodge. I told him no.”

  “And when you said so, he offered to be your partner?”

  Tori nodded. “What do you think about that?”

  Noreen took a sip of her drink and shrugged. “There’s no denying that the businesses he invests in do well, but the original owners sometimes—maybe always—feel like they’ve sold their souls.”

  Kathy glanced at her friend, but Tori’s expression was impassive.

  “How much control are you willing to give up on your property?” Noreen asked.

  Tori looked thoughtful. “I don’t know. All I know is…I don’t have the money to reopen the Lodge and it might never be
a possibility for me to swing it on my own.”

  Noreen nodded. “We felt that way a few years back when we were trying to get a loan. Nobody would talk to us. Then we had a really good summer. Maybe the bait shop will have a better summer this year. You girls have sure dolled up the property.”

  “All except The Lotus Lodge, which still looks like an eyesore,” Tori grumbled.

  “We could paint it,” Anissa suggested. “Everything looks better with a fresh coat of paint.”

  “What about Herb? Wouldn’t he loan you some money to fix the place up?” Noreen asked.

  “It was hard enough getting him to let me have it.”

  “What’s he been spending his big lottery bucks on?” Noreen asked, her tone neutral.

  “As far as I know, just a new truck and his condo. He complained about how much it cost to furnish it. Irene sent me some pictures. I don’t think he spent a fortune.”

  Noreen shrugged. “Men.” She picked up another mozzarella stick and plunged it into the sauce, then took a bite. She chewed and swallowed. “Dig in. They’re not scalding anymore.”

  Kathy and Tori each grabbed a stick. A cheer went up from the guys watching the basketball game. They were happy, but the women clustered at the bar all shared the same resigned expressions.

  Finally, Noreen shrugged her shoulders as if to shake off the blues. “Summer’s coming. Everything will look brighter when the days are hot and the dark closes in late. It always does.”

  Kathy felt that way, too. Her dream would come true the day Swans Nest opened. Unfortunately, it looked like Tori’s dream might take a lot longer to happen.

  3

  Kathy was up before dawn, which wasn’t all that unusual, but Tori hadn’t stirred. After four days of substitute teaching, and then a day of yard work, she deserved to sleep in late. But Kathy often awoke in the wee hours and her big mistake was to start thinking about her B and B and everything that needed to be done before opening day. When that happened, it was the end of sleep for that night.