A Reel Catch Read online

  She’d had two cups of coffee and half an everything bagel (courtesy of Tom’s Grocery, and leaving the other half for Tori) before she set off across the darkened road to Swans Nest. She never failed to feel a surge of love and pride when she unlocked the front door and stepped inside. And she gave a silent thanks to her deceased grandparents and their generosity in leaving her the money that paid for the majority of the renovations to the once-decrepit building. And she marveled at the skill Anissa possessed that had restored the once-abandoned house to all its former glory.

  Turning on the hall light, she locked the door behind her and headed toward the beautiful new kitchen. It was a dream come true for any wanna-be caterer. She started the next part of her day by making yet another pot of coffee and then sat down at the kitchen counter to review the list of tasks she needed to accomplish. Happily, that inventory grew smaller and smaller as her opening day approached and she delighted in crossing off more and more of the tasks.

  It was almost nine when the kitchen phone rang. It was probably Tori, who’d slept late and wanted to assure Kathy she’d be over soon. So Kathy was surprised to hear another voice on the other end of the line

  “Hi, Kath. It’s Noreen.”

  “Oh, hi. What’s up?”

  “Did you get your certificate of occupancy yet?”

  “Yeah, on Thursday. Why?”

  “Both my rooms are booked and I’ve got a couple looking for a place to spend the night.”

  “What about Don Newton? He’s got a couple of rooms over his bait shop.”

  “He won’t be reopening until May first.”

  “Technically, I’m not open.”

  “I know—but you were going to do a dry run soon anyway. You wouldn’t have to feed them. Just give them a place to sleep.”

  “I don’t know,” Kathy said as the hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

  “They’re willing to pay seventy-five bucks, which is more than we charge. They’ve got a wedding reception to go to at the American Legion.”

  “Do you know these people?”

  “They’re friends of the people we’re renting to, and they’ve been staying with us for at least five years. They’ll vouch for them.”

  Seventy-five bucks was a lot less than Kathy intended to charge the people who would visit her inn. Then again, they weren’t expecting a gourmet breakfast. And seventy-five bucks would give her a tiny influx of cash at a time when she was hurting financially.

  “Well, okay. What time are they going to arrive?”

  “It probably won’t be until late this afternoon. Have you got your credit card account established?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. I’ll have them call you and you can run it through your setup.”

  “Okay.”

  “Great. The guy who needs the room is Jack Ruffino. I’ll give him your number. And thanks, doll. This will be a boost for both of us.”

  If you say so, Kathy thought.

  “Talk to you later.”

  “Yeah. Bye,” Kathy said, hung up the phone and frowned. A pre-dry run dry run? That sounded okay in theory, but that meant she’d have to abandon her list of things to do for the rest of the morning and wash the sheets and clean the room and bathroom instead.

  Kathy downed the rest of her coffee and reached for the phone, punching in the number.

  “Cannon’s Bait and Tackle. Can I help you?” Tori answered.

  “It’s me,” Kathy said.

  “I was just on my way over.”

  “Don’t bother. My day just took an unforeseen detour.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Noreen wants me to put up her overflow.”

  “You mean rent out a room? But you’re not ready.”

  “All they need is a bed, and I’ve got one.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Tori asked, sounding concerned.

  “No, but Noreen is a friend.”

  “Yeah,” Tori agreed. “Okay, I’ve got stuff I can do over here. Like updating both of our websites.”

  “That’s better than cleaning a toilet,” Kathy said wryly.

  “Are you coming back for lunch?”

  “Sure. See you then,” Kathy said and ended the call, setting the receiver back on its wall cradle. She blew out a breath. “I’m not ready,” she declared, but that was irrelevant. Ready or not, she was committed.

  Now, where had she stashed the box that contained the four-hundred count Egyptian cotton sheets?

  Tori hung up the phone, still rather stunned that Kathy was going to jump the gun and welcome her first guests before having a dry run. But that was her decision to make.

  A glance at the clock told Tori that she had a couple of hours to kill…and she really did need to add photos, captions, and check hers and Kathy’s website links. But before she could log on, a knock came at the bungalow’s front door.

  Tori got up and looked out the window that overlooked the parking area outside the little squat house and recognized the man who stood before her front door. They’d never been formally introduced, but she knew his face: Avery Simons. What in the world could he possibly want? She opened the door to greet Lucinda Bloomfield’s property manager. Lucinda was the richest woman in the county and owned an elaborate estate up the hill on Resort Road.

  “Hello, Mr. Simons.”

  He touched the bill of his baseball cap, which said Lotus Bay Yacht Club. “Ms. Cannon.” He raised his right hand and offered her a plain white envelope.

  Tori took it from him but wondered what she was supposed to do.

  “If you could please read it. I’d like to take your answer back to Ms. Bloomfield.”

  Tori ran her finger under the flap and then tore open the envelope. Inside was a hand-written note.

  Dear Ms. Cannon,

  I would be very pleased if you could join me for tea this afternoon at 2 pm at my home at the top of Resort Road.

  It was signed: Lucinda Bloomfield.

  Tori’s brow furrowed. What in the world could Lucinda Bloomfield possibly have in mind by inviting her to tea? Then again, she’d never find out unless she agreed to go.

  Simons waited.

  “Yes. Please tell Ms. Bloomfield that I accept her invitation and I’ll see her at two o’clock.”

  Again, Simons tipped his hat. “Thank you.”

  Without another word, the man turned and headed back to his pristine white Ford pickup truck, got inside, started the engine, pulled out of the compound’s lot, and turned north on Resort Road.

  Now, why on earth would Lucinda Bloomfield want to see Tori? She supposed she’d find out at two o’clock.

  Kathy took in the pretty guest room and frowned. Something was wrong. The wallpaper—the reproduction of a vintage hydrangea pattern—had been a bear to hang because she’d bought it on eBay for a song, but Anissa had somehow performed a miracle and had gotten it to stretch to fill the entire room. Kathy had decided to name her guest rooms after flowers, but despite it being her favorite, this one had defied being called anything but Floral. It sounded dumb, even to Kathy. She’d have to come up with something better before opening day.

  The bed looked absolutely gorgeous. The new, freshly washed sheets, a snow-white coverlet, and a light gray counterpane at the foot of the bed, looked lovely, but she hadn’t put all the decorative items out on the flat surfaces. She basked in the noticeable care she had taken to pull the room together. Painstakingly washed and starched doilies were ready to be put in place, but Kathy was hesitant to use too many, worried she might overdo it and instead of a nostalgic comfortable feeling it might impart a dated ambiance. It would be a delicate balance.

  Since the couple who’d arrive later that afternoon were only expecting a bed to sleep in—and weren’t paying top dollar for the experience—she figured she could wait to fully decorate the room.

  Moving to the bathroom, she straightened the towels on the burnished nickel rack. She’d originally wanted to go with oak, bu
t Anissa convinced her that wet towels draped across them would damage the wood. The nickel matched the tub and pedestal sink’s faucets, looking quaint, and would require less maintenance.

  As she surveyed the suite, Kathy frowned. This wasn’t the way she had planned her pre-opening dry run. She, Tori, and Anissa were to be the guinea pigs. She had her first breakfast all planned. She’d already picked out the linens she’d use in the refurbished dining room. How she’d serve the food and drink, and on what mismatched china and silverware.

  But worst of all, she worried about the caliber of the guests Noreen had steered her way. They weren’t the barkeep’s regular customers. Noreen’s accommodations were bare bones at best. Was Kathy worried that these people might not be up to the standard that she expected to accommodate, and what kind of a terrible person did that make her?

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that.

  Giving the coverlet one last tug to make sure it was perfectly straight, she exited the room, leaving the door open—welcoming—for her first guests. She just wished she felt more comfortable about their arrival.

  A loud buzz sounded from the utility closet that held the oversized washer and dryer, and Kathy was happy she’d let Anissa talk her into putting them on the second floor instead of the basement. She pulled the still warm sheets from the drum and tossed them on the top of the machine, then she turned to test the temperature on her iron—still hot—and heard a voice calling her from the bottom of the stairs.

  “Kath?”

  It was Anissa.

  “Upstairs.”

  She listened as the sound of footsteps bounded up the pine staircase and seconds later Anissa joined her, not even out of breath. She looked from the ironing board to the pillowcase Kathy had just smoothed over the ironing board and frowned.

  “You’re going to iron your sheets?”

  “Just the pillowcases and the upper portion of the top sheet. I want it to look pretty for my guests.”

  “I thought Tori and I weren’t going to stay for the night until at least next week.”

  “Change of plans,” Kathy said and squirted some spray starch onto the soft material which was lace trimmed. Her female guests were sure to fall in love with them—as she had.

  “Whatever,” Anissa said. “Can you give me a hand with—”

  “Sorry,” Kathy interrupted. “I’ve got guests arriving sometime this afternoon.”

  “Guests?”

  Kathy told her about Noreen’s phone call. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Anissa asked skeptically.

  She wasn’t. “Of course,” she bluffed. “They’re giving me seventy-five bucks, which I can use to pay my Visa bill at the end of the month.”

  Anissa frowned. “Do you need help making the bed or something?”

  “No, their room is all set. I thought as long as I was washing sheets, I’d get started on The Daisy Room.”

  “Good,” Anissa said and sounded relieved. “I’ve got a bunch of small stuff I can do that’ll keep me occupied for most of the day. Like finishing the trim in the Lilac bathroom and staining it to match the rest of it.”

  Kathy’s cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket, saw that it was Tori calling, and answered it. “Hey, Tor, what’s up?”

  “You’re going to have to fend for yourself at lunchtime.”

  “How come?”

  “I’ve been invited out.”

  Kathy stabbed the speaker icon so that Anissa could hear. “Say that again.”

  “I’ve been asked to lunch. Or rather, I’ve had an invitation to afternoon tea.”

  “Who around here serves afternoon tea?” Anissa asked.

  “Lucinda Bloomfield.”

  “What?” both Kathy and Anissa asked in unison—and disbelief.

  “Why would she do that?” Anissa asked. She was always suspicious of anything Lucinda Bloomfield did. The woman had badgered her father to sell his property, but since his death and since Anissa moved in, Lucinda hadn’t mentioned it again.

  “I don’t know. But I’ll tell you all the juicy details when I get back.”

  “What time are you going?”

  “Two.”

  “That gives you almost three hours to get ready.”

  “And it’s going to take me that long to iron a dress and do my hair. Do you think I should wear heels?”

  “Are you planning on dating her?” Anissa asked.

  “Don’t be silly,” Tori said, I just don’t want her looking down at me.”

  “Now, Tor, has she ever really done that?” Kathy admonished.

  “Considering I’ve only spoken to her twice, how would I know?”

  “You watch your back, girl, you hear?” Anissa warned.

  “She’s not going to shoot me.”

  “Knives can be just as dangerous.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Kathy said. “I’ve got a can of tuna and some bread in the freezer. I can make lunch for Anissa and me.”

  “Great.”

  “Now pay close attention to everything that woman says because we want a full report,” Anissa ordered.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Tori said, but Kathy could hear the amusement in her tone. “See you later.”

  “You better believe it,” Anissa said.

  Kathy tapped the end-call icon. “Well, that was unexpected.”

  “What in the world could that evil woman possibly have to say to Tori?”

  Kathy shrugged. “Let’s be friends?”

  Anissa glowered and shook her head. “I’m going out on the back porch to cut that trim.”

  “And I’m going to continue to iron. As soon as I’m done, I’ll come down and make the tuna.”

  “You don’t have to feed me.”

  “No, but if I do, you might hang around longer and maybe help me move that sectional in the basement game room.”

  “Girl, don’t tell me you’re going to rearrange that area a third time.”

  “Who’s counting?”

  “Me,” Anissa said flatly, but Kathy knew she was game to help out. Anissa had never said “no” to any of Kathy’s requests—and because of that, Kathy needed a way to show her appreciation to her friend.

  And something Tori had said earlier gave her an idea of just what that something might be.

  4

  Tori arrived at the Bloomfield estate at precisely two o’clock, parking her truck outside the front door. She’d donned her prettiest—and if truth be told, only decent—dress and had actually put on some make-up to meet with the illustrious Ms. Bloomfield.

  She pressed the doorbell and from somewhere inside heard the Westminster chimes echoing. Nothing happened for long seconds and she glanced around, looking through the sidelights that surrounded the home’s great oak door. Finally, she saw a dark shape approach. The door swung open and a tall, gray-haired man in a gray suit and a bow tie stood before her.

  “Ms. Cannon?” he inquired.

  “Yes,” she said, feeling a little intimidated.

  “Please enter.” He stood aside for her to do so, then closed the door behind her.

  Tori found herself standing in a large foyer, its floor of black-veined, white marble. Cove molding surrounded the ceiling, and a grand staircase was the focal point off to her right, its balusters dark with age and polished to a gleam.

  “May I take your coat?”

  “Oh. Yes, thank you.” Tori shrugged out of the sleeves and handed it over. The man hung it in a large closet under the stairs and turned back to her. His face seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place where she’d seen him. The hardware store? A bait customer? Eventually, it would come to her.

  “If you’ll follow me, please,” he said and led her through a corridor into a large living room that overlooked the water. What a magnificent view of the burn side of the bay Lucinda would enjoy come fall when leaves changed color and seemed as though aflame. And one could see all the way to Lotus Point, too.

  “Great view,” Tori sai
d.

  Lucinda had been partaking said view and turned at the sound of Tori’s voice.

  “Ms. Cannon. Welcome to my home.”

  “Call me Tori.”

  “And I’m Lucinda.” She gestured to a small linen-clad table that had been set up in front of the large floor-to-ceiling windows and French doors that led to a large empty deck. The table was set with elegant ivory and gold-rimmed china, silver cutlery, and a vase of fresh, peach-colored roses that complimented Lucinda’s silk blouse. “Please take a seat.”

  Tori took the chair facing north—the one with the better view. Lucinda sat opposite her. “Will you please bring the tea, Collins?”

  “Yes, Madam,” the man—butler Tori guessed—said in an accent that was distinctly American, and leaned forward in a slight bow. Tori was surprised he didn’t click his heels as well. Her gaze wandered around the beautiful living room which she knew had been featured in at least three nation-wide magazines, including Architectural Digest. A great fireplace with a big white mantle dominated the east side of the room with a crackling fire on that raw April day.

  “You have a beautiful home.”

  Lucinda nodded. “Thank you.”

  Now, what could Tori say? She found herself fidgeting. “I … I was surprised to get your invitation this morning.”

  “It was long overdue.”

  Why?

  Collins reappeared with a silver teapot. “Shall I pour, Madam?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Tori watched as the butler first poured tea into her cup, and then that of his mistress.

  “Shall I bring out the sandwiches?”

  “In five minutes,” Lucinda said. “Thank you.”

  Again, Collins nodded before taking off in the direction of what Tori assumed to be the kitchen. She was dying to ask how anyone in Ward County found a butler, but she didn’t want to look like a rube. Lucinda obviously had the dough to pay for one.

  “From what you said last summer, I assumed you would have been working on getting The Lotus Lodge up and running once again.”

  Tori managed the ghost of a smile, picked up the small pitcher and added some cream to her tea, then picked up her spoon and stirred it. “We wanted to get the bait shop back in the black before we tackled the lodge.”