people who own the rest of this beach and land, they’d be the ones to ask. Maybe they’d buy your lot just to get you out of here so they can put up a hotel and strip mall. You should ask.” He looked around, stretching his neck. “Not exactly a prime location for that, though. This place is kind of out-of-the-way.”
Cooper was silent a moment. “You got an estimate to gut it?”
The man ripped off the top sheet and passed it to him—$5,890.00. “That doesn’t include plumbing, septic system or removal of damaged, rotting wood. That would be another several thousand. Then you’re left with a frame, pretty much.”
“Roughly six thousand? Just to tear it apart?”
“That’s a real nice estimate. And that bar? As bars go, it’s terrible. It’s a good fifty years old. And it’s not an antique. It’s just old and cheap. And rotting.”
“Is anything on this place all right?” Cooper asked.
The guy gave a nod. “Good deck. It’s newer than the structure. And as far as we can tell, the foundation is solid—but I wouldn’t guarantee it. You have a really bad roof. If you get it in your head to renovate, I’d recommend a new roof. We don’t do renovation, but I’d bet you’re looking at over a hundred grand there. But hey, do you know what people would pay for your view?”
Cooper ran a hand around the back of his neck which, despite the cold, was sweating. “If I decide to just knock it down, can you do it?”
“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “But I can recommend a good demolition team. I can also recommend plumbers, septic repair or replacement, interior work, roofers. These are the people we work with on a regular basis—contractors of every stripe. We specialize in fire-and-flood damage—after our work is done, the rebuilding starts.”
“Don’t you ever go in and just clean up the mess?” Cooper asked.
“Pretty often. But this one is bad.”
“Just because the electricity was off for a few weeks and the bait died?”
“It was in serious decline, filling up with mold, before that happened. You might want to check with your insurance company—they might help. But this place has been neglected for a long time. Looks like someone tried to get that septic system up and running for a while, when it should’ve been replaced.” He lifted bushy eyebrows. “You?”
“No, not me. I have to think about what I’m going to do.”
“Fair enough,” the man said, sticking out his hand.
“If I decide to do something with this, how much notice do you need?”
“It’s turning winter. The schedule isn’t too bad. But if you don’t act soon, we’re going to be weathered out.”
“I’ll try to think fast,” Cooper said. “Got any more of those face masks?”
The man reached into his pocket and pulled out several. “Just so you know—they’re not that effective against the smell in there.”
“I’m sure.”
“Just out of curiosity, why didn’t you fix the place up before it got so bad?”
“It wasn’t mine until recently. The man who owned it died.”
“Really? Well, hell, man! Cash it in! The land it’s on is probably worth something.”
He knew that, Cooper did. But something about the whole thing just gnawed at him. He wasn’t going to be able to make a decision until he understood why Ben Bailey lived with mold and rotting wood. The fact that he was pretty unmotivated didn’t explain it. Ben could’ve made one phone call and traded some land for enough money to build himself something nice. “So,” he said to the man with the cleanup crew, “how much to make that fish tank and any rotting food go away?”
“Twenty-five hundred. But that won’t solve your septic problems. We can deal with that, too, short of replacing it. But that won’t leave you a sound building and the plumbing won’t be serviceable.”
“I just want time to look around the inside. And think. And brother, I can’t think when it smells like that.”
“Twenty-five hundred
Cooper was silent a moment. “You got an estimate to gut it?”
The man ripped off the top sheet and passed it to him—$5,890.00. “That doesn’t include plumbing, septic system or removal of damaged, rotting wood. That would be another several thousand. Then you’re left with a frame, pretty much.”
“Roughly six thousand? Just to tear it apart?”
“That’s a real nice estimate. And that bar? As bars go, it’s terrible. It’s a good fifty years old. And it’s not an antique. It’s just old and cheap. And rotting.”
“Is anything on this place all right?” Cooper asked.
The guy gave a nod. “Good deck. It’s newer than the structure. And as far as we can tell, the foundation is solid—but I wouldn’t guarantee it. You have a really bad roof. If you get it in your head to renovate, I’d recommend a new roof. We don’t do renovation, but I’d bet you’re looking at over a hundred grand there. But hey, do you know what people would pay for your view?”
Cooper ran a hand around the back of his neck which, despite the cold, was sweating. “If I decide to just knock it down, can you do it?”
“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “But I can recommend a good demolition team. I can also recommend plumbers, septic repair or replacement, interior work, roofers. These are the people we work with on a regular basis—contractors of every stripe. We specialize in fire-and-flood damage—after our work is done, the rebuilding starts.”
“Don’t you ever go in and just clean up the mess?” Cooper asked.
“Pretty often. But this one is bad.”
“Just because the electricity was off for a few weeks and the bait died?”
“It was in serious decline, filling up with mold, before that happened. You might want to check with your insurance company—they might help. But this place has been neglected for a long time. Looks like someone tried to get that septic system up and running for a while, when it should’ve been replaced.” He lifted bushy eyebrows. “You?”
“No, not me. I have to think about what I’m going to do.”
“Fair enough,” the man said, sticking out his hand.
“If I decide to do something with this, how much notice do you need?”
“It’s turning winter. The schedule isn’t too bad. But if you don’t act soon, we’re going to be weathered out.”
“I’ll try to think fast,” Cooper said. “Got any more of those face masks?”
The man reached into his pocket and pulled out several. “Just so you know—they’re not that effective against the smell in there.”
“I’m sure.”
“Just out of curiosity, why didn’t you fix the place up before it got so bad?”
“It wasn’t mine until recently. The man who owned it died.”
“Really? Well, hell, man! Cash it in! The land it’s on is probably worth something.”
He knew that, Cooper did. But something about the whole thing just gnawed at him. He wasn’t going to be able to make a decision until he understood why Ben Bailey lived with mold and rotting wood. The fact that he was pretty unmotivated didn’t explain it. Ben could’ve made one phone call and traded some land for enough money to build himself something nice. “So,” he said to the man with the cleanup crew, “how much to make that fish tank and any rotting food go away?”
“Twenty-five hundred. But that won’t solve your septic problems. We can deal with that, too, short of replacing it. But that won’t leave you a sound building and the plumbing won’t be serviceable.”
“I just want time to look around the inside. And think. And brother, I can’t think when it smells like that.”
“Twenty-five hundred
Similar Books
