Mercer eyed us with suspicion. He wrote something on his clipboard that I suspected wasn't helpful. “I am going to need to walk the accessible areas. Given the fire, I would advise we handle the basic safety review now.”
The words landed like a weight on Lucy’s shoulders, but she nodded.
We moved as a small procession through the house as Mercer picked apart a multitude of sins and recorded them for posterity. Railings on the basement steps were needed, a wheelchair accessible entry required due to bylaws, regular inspections of the heating, and a complete cleaning of everything.
We paused in the reception room. The plaster molding, revealed from its decades of hiding, was a beauty to behold at odds with the fake wooden paneling and shag rug. Mercer’s gaze softened despite himself. "That's good work you uncovered. Whoever did this originally knew their craft.”
“Thank you,” Helen glowed.
His pen clicked again. “The temporary debris containment isn't adequate. You will need to cordon that area with proper stanchions. Install temporary signage. And those outlets without plates shouldn't be exposed.”
“We have plates in a box. Somewhere,” Lucy muttered.
The foyer. Mercer’s attention went straight to the front door hardware, the egress width, the mat that bunched and threatened ankles. “Remove that runner. It is a trip hazard. You will need an illuminated exit sign above that door and an emergency light in case of failure. Smoke detectors on each level, interconnected and carbon monoxide detectors.”
“It’s in progress,” Lucy answered, breath tight.
“They just bought the place. Surely you can understand that they need a little time to get everything done?” Braxton interjected.
Mercer gave us an irritated look. “I’m aware. I’m also able to give out fines for non-compliance.”
“The Bennet’s were simply a little eager to get started. They fully intend to comply with all of the requirements the town has,” I smoothly stated. This was a negotiation. I handled negotiations all the time. “Why don’t we step over here and discuss it?”
“Dex, I can handle it,” Lucy bit out.
“There is nothing to discuss. If I were to finalize an inspection today, you would fail. Spectacularly." Mercer didn't gloat but he didn’t soften the hard truth either. “However, I amnot here for your final. Consider this a preliminary safety walk-through.”
We reached the kitchen and found Jane icing a tray of cooling cookies, the air sweet with sugar and spice. Braxton’s face lit and he drifted toward them like a moth with good taste. “Do you need a hand?”
Jane startled, then pinked. “With the cookies?”
“With anything,” he murmured with a smile. “They smell extraordinary.”
“They are not on the menu,” Jane whispered like a confession. “We are not technically open.”
Mercer cleared his throat. “Food service operations require inspection prior to opening to the public. I will need to see your ServSafe or equivalent certifications. Grease trap documentation. Fire suppression must be in place for the stove.”
Jane’s smile wobbled, then steadied. “Of course.”
I mentally tallied the numbers in my head and wondered what funding the Bennet’s had managed to put together for the inn.
“I am going to post a notice of non-compliance for the public areas. No events open to the public and no advertised service. Private family meals are fine. Fix these items and call the town office to schedule another walk through,” Mercer told us.
Helen’s mouth opened but Lucy touched her elbow and shook her head once in warning. Surprisingly her mother obeyed the command. “Thank you. We will be ready.”
Mercer’s gaze held Lucy’s for a beat. He nodded, slid a yellow notice from a sleeve on his clipboard, and affixed it to the kitchen door with firm fingers. “Good evening. I will see myself out.”
Helen broke the silence first.
“Well,” she announced with valiant brightness. “At least he liked the molding.”
Lucy stared at the notice, jaw set. “We are going to fix everything on the list he gave us.”
“It’s going to take a minor miracle,” I observed which earned me a glare from Lucy.
“We have a lot of work to do,” Lucy mentioned, looking at the copy of the list Mercer had handed to her.
Braxton straightened as if reporting for duty. “Tell us what you need us to do.”
