With Baited Breath by Lorraine Bartlett

real estate agent? A walk-through might be enough to deter her. A discussion with a general contractor was sure to discourage her.
    But what if …?
    #
    The weatherman from Channel 10 news in Rochester had promised sunny skies, but the air was cool and damp when Kathy arrived at the Cannon compound the next morning just after 7:30. Of course, she’d gotten up early, dressed in work clothes, and hiked across the way through the knee-high grass to inspect the butt-ugly house that was for sale next to The Bay Bar. As Noreen had said, it was trashed. Kathy could see that just by looking in through the grimy windows that probably hadn’t been washed in a decade or more.
    From what she could see of the damage near the foundation, there had once been a substantial porch on the front of the house. She wondered if there was a historical society nearby that might have pictures of the house from the previous century. The windows had been replaced, probably in the 1970s or 1980s for what someone had mistakenly thought were more energy efficient models, but they hadn’t weathered well and she could see signs that at least the ones in front had leaked at some point. Add all new windows to the restoration, which would be a small fortune in and of itself.
    The more she thought about it, the worse the idea of restoring this ugly duckling into a swan became. With a heavy heart, she’d trucked across the road.
    Tori opened the door in her PJs, looking sleepy.
    “Have you got coffee?” Kathy asked.
    “Yes. That—and iced tea—is all Gramps seems to drink.”
    Kathy entered the neat and now-inviting kitchen. Daisy sat in the corner eating from a pink bowl decorated with paw prints. “Where’s your grandfather?”
    “In the shop. He was there before I got up.”
    “How did you sleep?”
    “Not good. I had a nightmare about finding Mr. Jackson, and then I didn’t get back to sleep until almost six. How about you?”
    “I didn’t sleep well, either,” Kathy admitted, but it was thoughts of the derelict house across the road that had preoccupied her thoughts.
    Tori retrieved a bag of bread from the top of the fridge and stuck two pieces in the toaster, then poured a mug of coffee for Kathy. The words LOTUS LODGE were emblazoned in green with a drawing of a white lotus below.
    “That’s cute,” she said, accepting the mug.
    “Grandma had a case of them made way back when. I guess she thought people might buy them, but I don’t think it worked out too well. There must be ten of them in the cupboard.”
    “It’s a great idea, but she didn’t have the address printed on the backside.”
    “I never even noticed.”
    “You could do the same thing and add a web URL.”
    “Gramps doesn’t have a website for the bait shop. Hell, he doesn’t even own a cell phone.”
    “You could set up a site cheap.”
    “That’s a good idea,” Tori said as the toast popped up. She put each slice on a plate and reloaded the toaster. She handed Kathy a plate.
    “Thanks.” Kathy took a seat at the table where napkins, knives, butter, and a jar of raspberry jam awaited. “I’ve got good news.”
    “I could use some about now,” Tori admitted, still standing by the counter.
    “Your neighbors at The Bay Bar are loaning us their power washer so we can prep the bait shop.”
    “Hey, that’s great. Have you ever used one?”
    “Yep. Once the walls are dry, we can start painting. We might even finish the job today. Then we can start tackling the Lotus Lodge.”
    “I don’t know, Kath. That’s a pretty tall order. Even if we get it in shape, we’d have to get a certificate of occupancy and heaven only knows how many other permits to reopen.” She nibbled on the corner of her toast. “You didn’t tell the people at the bar about possibly reopening the lodge, did you?”
    “Noreen asked about it.”
    “Who’s she?”
    “One of the owners. She mans the kitchen.”
    “What did you tell her?”
    “I asked how she’d feel about it