A Fatal Slip (5 page)

“Fine,” he said, though I doubted he’d heard me. David had a tendency to focus solely on the task at hand, no matter what that might be. There was a spark of genius in him, but it wasn’t just his talent. It was that ability he had to concentrate to the exclusion of everything else. I envied his focus but knew I could never come close to matching it. I was too easily distracted by the world around me.

“What can I do for you, Nate?”

“I’ve made my decision about In the Grounds, and I thought you should be the first one to know.”

I knew in my heart that he’d decided not to accept the offer, but I couldn’t bring myself to try to change his mind, no matter how much I personally would lose. My business was my present, but his was his past. If he needed to close the coffee shop in order to get on with his life, I wouldn’t get in his way. I’d find another location for Fire at Will, though I’d miss looking out at Whispering Brook every day.

“Go ahead,” I said, preparing myself for the worst.

“I’m buying in, too.”

“I understand,” I said before the words hit home. “What did you just say?”

“I’m staying,” he said with a grin. “In the end, when it came down to it, I just couldn’t bear to leave the place.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled, but I thought there were too many ghosts there for you.”

He took my hands in his. “Carolyn, I think ghosts have gotten a bad reputation. What’s wrong with having memories of Winnie wherever I look? I loved my wife. We had too many good times together to ever forget. She poured her life into that shop, and I’m going to keep it afloat just as long as I can.”

“But you were so worried about the competition moving in on your business,” I said.

“Carolyn, don’t you want me to stay?”

“Of course I do. I just want you to make the decision for the right reasons.” Honestly, he was on the money. What was I trying to do, talk him out of this? Still, when it came down to it, I wanted my shop, but not at Nate’s expense.

“I am. Do you happen to have the owner’s number? I’d like to get this moving.”

I dug into my pocket, since I’d been carrying the contact information around with me since I’d decided buying in myself. “It’s right here. You can use my phone, if you’d like.”

“Thanks, but this is one call I want to make from In the Grounds. It’s probably silly, isn’t it?”

“Not at all. I’m so happy, Nate. Thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you. You never put a bit of pressure on me, and I want you to know how much I appreciate it.”

It was a good thing the man couldn’t read my thoughts, or he never would have made the deal. “Shall I tell the others?”

“Not right away. Let’s make them sweat a little.” His smile was brighter than I had seen it in years.

“You’re wicked, you know that, don’t you?”

“You have no idea. In fact, I think I’m going to stop by Kendra’s and tell her I’ve nearly made up my mind and it doesn’t look good.”

I laughed. “That’s just pure evil. Can I tag along? I want to see her face.”

“Now who’s evil?”

“We both are,” I said. “I really am happy about your decision.”

“So am I.”

After he was gone, I called Bill and told him the good news.

His resonse was to the point. “Did you call the sellers yet?”

“Yes, this morning, but I’ll have to call them back now that Nate’s in. Are you sure this is what you want to do? It’s your last chance to back out.”

“You mean it’s yours. Call them, Carolyn.”

“Fine.” I hung up on him, then dialed Melody’s number again. I was told that as soon as Nate confirmed my story, the final papers, not the preliminary ones that Rose and Kendra had signed, would be delivered by courier for my signature, and my down payment would be required as well. It looked as though I’d just bought myself a pottery studio. My hands were shaking as I wrote out the check, but in a good way. I was on my way to owning my dream, and it appeared that nothing was going to stop it now.

At least I hoped that was the way it was going to turn out.

Chapter 3

“Charlie Cobb, you are a pigheaded fool,” my husband shouted in the back room of Fire at Will a week later.

“I won’t stand for that kind of talk, Bill Emerson, and you know it. You’ll either do it my way, or you won’t do it at all.”

At least I didn’t have any customers at the moment, and closing time was just thirty minutes away. We’d signed the papers for the shop with alacrity, and before I knew what was happening, the building was mine. Bill and I had decided that no matter how tight it squeezed us, there were some changes we had to make now that Fire at Will was ours. Well, ours and the bank’s.

“Do you two need a time-out?” I asked as I walked to the back of the shop.

“Carolyn, stay out of this,” Bill said.

“It’s her building,” Charlie said. “She’s entitled to an opinion. It’s got to be worth more than yours.”

“Don’t start with me,” Bill said.

“You know what? You’re right.” He got out some paperwork, wrote a few things, then stamped something on the sheet. Even without my glasses, I had no trouble making out the stop-work order as he tacked it to the wall of what was going to be my new bathroom.

“Wait a second, there’s no need to be hasty,” I said. “Surely there’s a way we can work this out.”

“You have two choices. You can comply with my order, or you can sell this place and move,” Charlie said.

“Now are you ready for me to tell you what you can do?” Bill growled.

“Bill. Leave. Please.” I added the last bit as my husband directed his glare to me.

He scowled at Charlie a second, and I could tell he was getting ready to fire another volley at the man. I quickly stepped between them and whispered to him, “Don’t make this any worse than it already is.”

Instead of an answer, he grunted, but to my husband’s credit, he did exactly as I asked and walked out of the shop.

Charlie was still writing something on his clipboard when I turned to him. In my gentlest voice, I asked, “Now, can we talk about this like two rational adults?”

“The time for talking is over. If you don’t agree with my order, you can always appeal it.”

“To Pete Young? You’re kidding, right?” Pete ran the building inspection department for Maple Ridge, and he was known unaffectionately around town as Pucker-Up Pete. The man would say no to his mother, if she were ever foolish enough to give him the chance, and it appeared that Charlie was following closely in his mentor’s footsteps.

“Mr. Young is my supervisor, and I’d appreciate it if you would treat him with respect.”

This was getting me nowhere. “I’m sorry. Charlie, I need this bathroom. As it is, I barely have running water in the place.” Bill and I had decided to save some money by redoing the bathroom ourselves. My husband had put his latest furniture order on hold and had gleefully ripped out the old sink and toilet. He’d been in the process of expanding the bathroom’s narrow confines when Charlie had gotten wind of our remodeling. We hadn’t even realized we’d need a permit to start moving walls and fixtures around, but evidently the building code for our little Vermont town was taken straight from Big Brother’s manual on harassing do-it-yourselfers. We were in an historic district that took the town’s bylaws rather seriously, and I was beginning to see the world through the eyes of an owner instead of a renter.

“I can’t help that,” Charlie said. “It’s not my problem.”

“What can I do?” I was frantic about solving this.

“You can get a permit. Until then, I’d advise you to do as I say and stop this construction.”

“How long does it take to get a permit?” I imagined running home every time I had to go to the bathroom, not a pleasant thought at all, and I didn’t even want to think about what I would do with my customers. Would I have to send them to Kendra? What a headache.

Charlie said, “It takes as long as it takes.”

He left, and I was getting ready to lock the shop so I could go after the coveted permit when I heard shouting out front.

Bill hadn’t gone far, and it appeared that he and Charlie had moved right into Round Two.

“You’re not going to get away with this,” Bill shouted at Charlie. Their noses were barely six inches apart as they screamed.

“Look around. I already did. That permit’s going to be stuck in molasses, and you better believe it.” It was pretty clear that Charlie was just as mad as Bill.

“If I can’t go around you, then I’ll go straight through you,” my husband shouted at him.

I had to stop this. There was only one thing to do. I forced myself between them and turned my back to Charlie so I could face Bill. “Go home.”

“But—”

“Go home,” I repeated. There was not a whisper of love or affection in my voice as I said it.

Bill turned and stormed off, and before I could apologize to Charlie yet again, he left as well. There was quite a crowd gathered along the River Walk, and I could only imagine how fast the story of the fight would spread through Maple Ridge.

I wanted to crawl back into the shop and lock the door behind me, but I knew that wasn’t the way to deal with the situation. No matter how unpleasant it was, I had to walk to the town hall and file the papers for that permit right now. Otherwise I was going to have to put a Porta Potti in back of the shop, and I knew that wouldn’t exactly entice new customers into the place.

 

Of course, the building inspection department was closed for the day. I had to wonder if Charlie had planned his visit to throw the maximum amount of chaos our way. There had been bad blood between him and my husband for years, over a softball game, of all things. Fifteen years before, Bill had been a pitcher for the Ridge Runners, and Charlie had been at bat for the Dirt Devils. Bill’s slow pitch had inadvertently beaned Charlie in the head, knocking off his batter’s helmet and sending him to the ground. To my husband’s credit, he’d tried to apologize, but the pitch had nearly cleared both benches. That was my husband’s last foray into sports, but Charlie had never accepted the fact that the pitch had
accidentally
hit his head. At least, Bill had sworn it was an errant pitch. Now, I knew my husband’s temper better than anyone else in the world, and even I wasn’t sure it had
really
been an accident.

I stared at the glass door of the inspector’s office, but wishing didn’t open it, so I decided to go home. This problem would have to wait until tomorrow.

Bill wasn’t at the house when I got home, but I found a message for me on our machine. “Carolyn, I’m going to make up some time working on this nightstand, so don’t wait up.”

That was certainly short and to the point. There was one more message on my machine, and I heard my husband’s voice again. “Didn’t mean to lose my cool today. I need to blow off some steam. I’ll grab something later, so go ahead and eat.”

I’d picked up some ground turkey for dinner, but there was no way I was making my famous patties just for me. Then I had a thought.

I picked up the phone and dialed Hannah’s number. “Hey, it’s me.”

“Hey, me, what’s going on?”

“Bill stood me up for dinner, and I was wondering if you’d like to grab a bite with me tonight.”

She chuckled. “What, kind of like a ladies’ night out? It’s pretty short notice.”

“Sorry, I should have known you’d have plans. We’ll do it another time.”

Hannah said, “Wait a second, I didn’t say I was busy. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, we could go to Shelly’s, or I could make something for us here.”

She didn’t even have the grace to hesitate before she said, “I choose Shelly’s.”

“Gee, thanks. I thought you liked my cooking.”

“That’s not it. I’ve been struggling with creating a new test all afternoon, and it might be fun to get out in the world.”

“I thought the students had trouble with tests, not the teachers.”

She sighed. “You’d think so, but can you imagine how hard it is to make up a test that’s fair yet challenging enough to reward those who’ve been paying attention all semester? I wrestle with it every term.”

“You mean you don’t use the same test every time you teach the course?”

Hannah chuckled again. “No, my students are far too industrious for that. I don’t want anyone with access to earlier exams to get a free pass. Do you want me to pick you up, or should we meet at Shelly’s?”

“Let’s meet there. See you in ten minutes.”

After I hung up, I tried calling Bill at Olive’s workroom in town, but there was no answer. I wasn’t surprised. Between the power tools he used and the ear plugs he wore for protection, he wouldn’t have been able to hear a jumbo jet flying overhead let alone the phone ringing. In case he came home without checking his messages, I left him a note, then took off for Shelly’s.

The café’s namesake was working the grill when I walked in. Shelly was a petite woman, but her small stature belied a biting wit that could draw blood. Fortunately, I rarely saw her fangs, since we’d been friends close to forever.