At the River’s Edge Page 6
Chapter 6
SOPHIE stared out Jesse’s kitchen window onto the fenced-in yard while she waited for her first cup of morning coffee to finish brewing in her brother’s ancient coffeemaker. She wished he had one like the one that sat on her own kitchen counter, the one that brewed one fresh cup at a time. Hearing Jesse’s machine gurgle and burp painfully, what to give him and Brooke for a wedding gift was no longer a question. Even the coffeemaker they had in the DA’s office was better than this one.
She wondered if Christopher was fixing Anita’s morning coffee the way he used to fix hers. Was he, right at that moment, picking up two Danishes from the coffee truck that always parked in front of the courthouse regardless of the weather? The coffee was terrible, but somehow Sis, the woman who owned the truck, managed to snag the best Danishes in town. On mornings when neither of them had court, she and Chris would meet first thing in his office. The thought of Anita sitting in her chair, drinking coffee he’d brewed, eating her Danish, made Sophie see red.
She squeezed her eyes closed as tightly as she could, willing the image to vanish.
Think of something else, she demanded. Focus on something else. It’s a beautiful day, she reminded herself. Don’t let Christopher spoil this, too.
She took a deep breath and stared out the window.
The yard was quite nice, Sophie told herself, forcing her attention outside. The small brick patio was surrounded by beds covered with dried leaves. She wondered when those beds had last been planted. If she were living here, she’d put in a garden. She’d do flowers around the patio and lots of herbs and some vegetables out there in the center of the yard, where it was nice and sunny. If she had a restaurant, she’d want to serve really fresh salads and a vegetarian dish or two. And maybe she’d plant some red peppers to roast with garlic and olive oil. Mint for iced tea to be served on hot summer days …
Stop stop stop! She tried to shake the thoughts from her head but they did not go gently. It had been easier to ban Christopher, it occurred to her. She wasn’t quite sure what that meant.
The machine had just given up its dark brew when Sophie heard the front door slam.
“Jess?” she called.
“Yeah.” He tossed his jacket over the back of a chair. “Hey, you made coffee. Thanks.”
“Didn’t Brooke make coffee this morning?”
“Yes, but she got up early to bake for the shop, and by the time I got up, it was sludge.”
Sophie reached overhead into the cabinet and grabbed a cup, which she filled, and held out to her brother. When he reached for it, she pulled it back.
“First, the key.”
“What key?”
“You know what key.”
“Oh, you mean this one?” He pulled a braided green string from his pocket and dangled its lone brass key in front of her. “Could I interest you in a trade?”
She passed the cup over and he tossed the key into her outstretched hand.
“This is really it?”
“No, actually, that’s my garage key.”
“Jesse, you …”
He laughed. “Yes, it’s really ‘the key.’ I stopped by the office on my way back from Brooke’s and called Violet. She was just leaving for church, but she knew exactly where it was, as you suspected.”
“Did she say why you had it? Did she think it would be okay if we went in?” Sophie asked eagerly.
“The owner gave the key to Uncle Mike so that he could check up on the property periodically. Make sure there’d been no break-ins and that the roof wasn’t leaking, that sort of thing.”
“When was the last time someone went in?”
“I couldn’t tell. There was nothing in the file to indicate that anyone from the firm had made a visit.”
“Then I’d say we were due.”
“Well, I’m due.” He smirked. “A member of the firm is due.”
“Now that’s just plain mean. If—and it’s a big fat if—I ever decided to come to work with you, it would be because I wanted to and because I felt it was the right move for me, and not because you goaded or bribed me. That’s a big decision to make, Jess.”
“True. So I won’t goad—but that doesn’t mean I’ve given up. There are other ways …”
Sophie tucked the key into the pocket of her jeans. “I just need to grab my bag and put my shoes on. I can’t wait to see what this place looks like inside.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” he called after her as she hustled toward the steps. “It’s bound to be a mess.”
Sophie drove her car because she wanted to see what it felt like to drive onto that lot and park near the door, though the reason she gave Jesse for wanting to drive was so that he couldn’t rush her and threaten to leave before she was ready to go.
“This place is really off the beaten path,” Jesse said as he got out of the car. “They probably didn’t do much business here before they closed.”
“Maybe not,” Sophie agreed, “but the new movie studio should bring a lot of traffic down this way, once it’s up and running. So not being in the center of town could be an advantage.”
“How do you figure?”
“No competition.” She fitted the key into the lock and it turned reluctantly. “Plus you heard that talk last night at Walt’s about the bait shop next door filing for a permit to dredge the river to make it deep enough for larger boats to dock there, right?”
Jesse nodded.
“And that they might even build a marina right there so that visitors to the studio could come by boat?” Sophie pushed open the door. “People could fly into Baltimore, charter a boat, and just come right across the Bay.” She paused in the doorway. “Boy, it’s dark in here.”
“Have a flashlight.” He handed her one of the two he’d grabbed before they left the house.
“Thanks.” She turned on the flashlight and scanned the room with its beam. “Maybe if we left the door open it would help.”
Jesse pushed the door back as far as it would go.
“Not much better,” he noted. “Dark and wow, really dusty. You sure know how to pick ’em.”
She took her time walking around the room, shining the light on the four big windows in the front and the two smaller ones on each side, all of which were covered with boards. There was just enough light to see the ancient cash register that sat atop the L-shaped counter with its eight stools lined up along the left side of the room.
“It’s not very big.” Jesse sneezed. “Eight tables for two, five tables for four.” With the beam he scanned the upturned chairs that sat atop the tables, their legs pointing toward the ceiling.
“Plenty big enough.” She flipped the light switch on the wall. “Just checking,” she said when the lights failed.
“The electricity’s been off for a few years.” Jesse sneezed again. “There was a note in the file that all the utilities were turned off.”
“Allergies acting up?” Without waiting for an answer, she added, “Want to wait for me in the car?”
“What, and miss all the fun?”
Sophie pushed through a door behind the counter and stepped into the kitchen. It seemed even darker than the front room, but she could see two ranges, a double sink, a large refrigeration unit, and a couple of metal shelving units on wheels. She went to the back door, pushed aside the slide lock and a dead bolt, and pulled the door open. The cool air rushed in with the light, as if it had been waiting for a chance to enter.
“There’s some nasty-looking stuff in here,” Jess noted. “Wonder how long those dishes have been sitting on the drain board.” He held the light over the windowsills. “Nice selection of dead flies, bees, and wasps here, if you know anyone who collects. Oh, and one damned fine cobweb. Might be the biggest one I’ve ever seen.”
“Ugh! Mice droppings on top of the stoves.” Sophie made a face and peered into an open cabinet. “Not to mention on the shelves.”
“And the counters.” The light from Jesse’s flashlight skimmed al
ong the countertop. “I wouldn’t even think about opening that old refrigerator or looking inside either of those ovens. This place is pretty disgusting, Soph.”
“Needs a good cleaning, that’s for sure.” Sophie sneezed three times in rapid succession.
“Needs to be razed. This place has ‘biohazard’ written all over it.”
“It’s not that bad. It’s just … neglected. And dirty.” She took a look around the room. “Very, very dirty. But there’s nothing here that can’t be fixed.”
“You have got to be kidding.” Jesse snorted. “Everything in this place needs to be tossed. It’s all Dumpster fodder, if you ask me.”
“Which I did not, but that’s okay. You’re entitled.” Sophie closed the back door and relocked it. “Let’s go look upstairs.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m curious, that’s why. And because I don’t know when I’ll get another chance.”
Jesse sighed and followed his sister back through the dining area and waited outside while she locked the front door.
“It’s probably as big a mess up there as it is down here,” he muttered.
“Maybe,” she nodded. “But you have a responsibility to your client. She’s depending on you to keep an eye on her property. What if there was an electrical fire …”
“The electricity has been turned off.”
“Lightning,” she said as she rounded the corner of the building. “Could always be lightning, this close to the water.”
“You’re grabbing at straws.”
Jesse followed her up the stairs that led to the second floor and brushed her aside when her attempts to unlock the door failed.
“Let me try.” He jiggled the key and pushed, and the door opened.
“Thanks.” Sophie walked past him into a large room that had windows on three sides. “Wow. Living room–dining room combo. I like it.”
“You have to be kidding. This place is pathetic.”
“It’s a great space and it has great light,” she pointed out. “And the kitchen … well, it’s okay, I guess.” She fixed the beam of light on the fridge and the stove, opening, then closing the doors. “Of course, there is a restaurant right downstairs.”
She opened one of two closed doors and glanced inside.
“Bathroom. Shower and a tub.”
On to the other closed room. “Oh, this would make a really nice bedroom. Big windows on the side and across the back, lots of light. Great view of the river.”
“And like the first floor, probably infested with all sorts of living things you wouldn’t want to share your space with.”
Sophie laughed. “Oh, c’mon, Jess, it’s a really good apartment. Spacious, airy, high ceilings …”
“Old everything here—pipes, wiring. I’ll bet nothing in this building is up to code. And it’s filthy, and I’ll bet there’s mold and that everything in the kitchen needs to be replaced.”
“Exterminators. Plumber. Electrician. Lots of water and household cleaners.” She counted them off one by one.
“Sophie, this is silly. Unless you’re ready to quit your job and move to St. Dennis, this is a waste of time.”
He leaned against the door that opened to the stairwell. “Are you ready to move to St. Dennis?”
She shook her head no.
“Then what’s the point?”
“I wanted to see what was here. I wanted to see if it was a place I could make work for me, if I decided that was what I wanted to do. And if it ever came up for sale.”
She pulled the key from her pocket and walked outside. From the top of the stairs, she looked around. The lot next door was completely surrounded by a chain-link fence and was even bigger than she’d originally thought, the parcel being not only longer, but wider as well.
“What do you suppose that’s being used for?” Sophie pointed to the adjacent property.
“Doesn’t look like it’s being used for anything,” he noted. “Just like everything else out this way. Except for the bait shop on the other side. You might get some business from the fishermen in the morning—assuming you’re up at four when the boats head out on their first run.”
Through the bare trees across the road, she could see almost as far as the Madison farm.
“You can almost see Brooke’s family farm from here.” She pointed toward the barely visible barn roof.
Jesse leaned on the railing that surrounded the landing and followed her sight line, then nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s the old barn.”
Sophie turned and locked the door.
“This place is pretty isolated, though. Not much traffic, no neighbors at night. I doubt the bait shop stays open too late. And next door, that fenced-in place.” Jesse shrugged. “I don’t know what that is.”
“But as I mentioned, Dallas will be bringing in a lot of people this summer, and if the bait shops gets its permits and dredges for a marina, there will be boats coming and going. And besides, you and Brooke will be living at the farm, so you’ll be right through those trees. Why, we’d practically be neighbors.”
“Please tell me you’re not serious about all this.” He waved a hand to take in the building.
“I’m not serious.” She finished locking the door, then handed him the key before taking off down the steps.
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Because you have a suspicious mind.”
“The only thing that’s suspicious is the fact that you are barely reacting.”
She smiled and got into the car. He got into the passenger seat and turned to her. “So is your silence your way of conceding that this place is good for nothing but a bulldozer?”
“I am not conceding anything.” She started the car and turned around in the parking lot.
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“I won’t do anything stupid, Jess. Right now, I just want to feel as if I have some options.” She stopped the car at the edge of the road. “I want to feel as if I can change my life if I decide that’s what I want to do.”
He nodded. “Got it.”
“So don’t waste any more time badgering this witness, okay?”
“I’m not trying to badger you. I want you to think about what you’d be giving up in Ohio. I just want you to be happy.”
“I know.”
“I want you to find as much happiness as I have. If it’s here in St. Dennis for you, as it is for me, so much the better. It would be nice to have you around more, especially since I’m getting married, and Brooke and I are going to want to start a family. I’d like you to be a bigger part of that.”
“Thanks, Jess.” She started to pull out onto the road but paused to allow a pickup pulling a trailer to pass. When the road was clear, she eased onto the macadam and headed back toward Jesse’s house. “I know there are a lot of things to consider. I have a lot to think about.”
For the rest of the day and through the night, it seemed Sophie could think of little else but the way the restaurant would look all cleaned up. If she bought it, the name wouldn’t be Walsh’s anymore, though she really had no idea what she’d rename the place. The dingy walls and furniture could be painted, the counter and floor refinished, the windows scrubbed clean. The kitchen would need a major overhaul; there was no getting around that. Of course, maybe in the light, things would look better.
Then again, they could look worse.
The one thing Jesse was right about was the need for an exterminator. No way was Sophie going to deal with rodents on her own. Who knew how many generations of mice had taken up residence in the walls? She wasn’t going to be the one to evict them.
One thing she hadn’t shared with her brother was that while the appliances were old, they were top quality from what she could see. With any luck, the fact that they’d sat unused for a few years might not spell doom. Those two old Vulcan ranges could have a lot of miles left on them.
“Top of the line, Vulcan is,” Thomas, the old cook at Shelby’s, often said. “St
ill good fifty, sixty years, if you don’t abuse them.”
Of course, who was to say the ranges at Walsh’s hadn’t been abused?
And the big refrigeration unit—she’d bet just about anything it was a True. She’d know for sure when she could see it in the light. It might need a new compressor, but there was a good chance it could be revived.
Not that she’d share any of this with her brother. At least not until she had a game plan, which right now, she did not have. She’d been honest with him about that. She wasn’t about to resign from her job without giving it much thought. It would be a big move, to pull up stakes in Ohio and move here to start something new. She liked thinking about the possibility, but she wasn’t sure that in reality she was ready to take such a leap of faith. No, Jesse needn’t worry that she was going to pull up stakes and leave her law career in Ohio.
At least, not yet.
Chapter 7
“SO what’s on your agenda for today?” Jesse packed a stack of yellow pads into his briefcase, which lay open on the coffee table in his sparsely furnished living room. “Where did I put that file … must have left it up on my desk. ’Scuse me …”
He blew past his sister, who stood in the doorway trying to decide whether she had an agenda, and if not, whether she should. One of the nice things about taking time off from your job was that you didn’t have to have an agenda if you didn’t want one. For Sophie, a Monday morning that didn’t find her racing out the door with a twenty-pound briefcase in one hand and a pair of shoes in the other had all the makings of a good day.
“Gotta run.” Jesse reappeared, stuffed some folders into the briefcase, closed the lid, and headed for the front door. “Stop in at the office later. I should be back from court by noon.”