To the south and east of the town, there were fewer houses due to a bank of thickly wooded hills that rose like a natural, protective wall. Shenstone House, a large mansion located on the highest hill just southeast of town, was in the process of being renovated to be turned into a small inn. Through the trees still thick with leaves just beginning to think about turning gold and orange, Fiona could see the peaks of the house’s roof and gables.
Before starting her drive, Fiona had used her GPS to locate the address of her unexpected inheritance, and was mildly disappointed to discover it wasn’t located in the main downtown area of Wicks Hollow. The intersection of Faith Avenue and Pamela Boulevard—with neither being an avenue nor a boulevard, but barely two-vehicle wide streets—was the heart of the downtown’s business and tourist district. From that central location, shops, restaurants, cafes, and other businesses sprang up for two blocks in all four directions. Every building was brick-fronted, although the color, type, and height of their facades varied. Some of the brickwork design was complicated, and some of it merely serviceable.
Fiona came into town via the north-south running Pamela Boulevard, then turned west on Faith Avenue. This took her past Trib’s (the trendiest restaurant in town), and on the next block, a second-floor Balanced Chakra Yoga Studio (which she eyed with interest).
Following her GPS (a good sense of direction was not one of Fiona’s gifts), she followed Faith two more blocks to Elizabeth Street and turned north. This three block stretch on Elizabeth was known as B&B Row, for it was lined on both sides with painted ladies converted to bed and breakfast inns. Some even had glimpses of Lake Michigan and the Fire’s Cove Lighthouse from their upper floors.
As she drove by, Fiona noted the names of some of the B&Bs—Sunflower House, Respite Cottage, Blueberry Courtyard, The Pine Glenn Inn. Each had beautiful hand-painted signs with little flip-cards on them that indicated vacancy or no vacancy. Many showed no vacancy for this weekend in early September, and Fiona was pleased. After all, she was soon to be a business-owner here herself.
At the thought, a little squiggle of nerves made her clench her tummy, but she spewed out a long breath.One step at a time.
Elizabeth Street curved slightly west, and Fiona smelled the fresh proximity of Lake Michigan through the open moonroof on her lemondrop VW bug. She took a hard left onto a little street that angled off toward the big lake and found herself on Violet Way.
The road was hardly more than a dirt driveway, stretching less than two blocks between Elizabeth and Frederick Streets. The gravel surface was barely wide enough for two cars to pass each other and definitely room only for one if someone was parked on the street. Though it was several blocks from the main area of town, there were other shops here (probably with lower rent): a small boutique that seemed to carry only black clothing, a tiny pottery store with a cheerful red flag hanging out front, a shop for hiking and camping gear, and, near the Frederick end of the short, gravel road, an old sign that readAntiques.
“This must be it.” Fiona was just pulling off the road into a dubious parking place when her phone rang. The only reason it wasn’t in the depths of her huge bag was because she’d been using its GPS, so she was able to look at it right away. To her pleasure, it was Ethan.
“We’re here. Where are you?” he asked as soon as the call connected.
“I’m right—”
“Oh, I see you now. Hard to miss that yellow car. We’ll be right there.”
She disconnected the phone and stepped out of the car just as he and Diana, his hotshot lawyer girlfriend, walked into view from the opposite direction on Violet Way. She’d insisted they drive up from Chicago for the weekend so they could take a look at her new business as well. After all, what were older brothers—especially ones who dated lawyers—for?
“Hi, Fiona,” Diana said, giving her a brief hug. She was a little shorter than Fiona, and had bouncy, dark hair in a flattering cut that left most of her neck bare. As always, she was dressed in neat, tailored clothing—a summer sweater twinset of periwinkle and casual white trousers. Her shoes were expensive Italian flats that Fiona immediately lusted after, and wondered if there was any chance DSW would get them in.
“This must be so exciting for you!” Diana added as she stepped back with a smile. “Congratulations—and what a surprise!”
The first time Fiona met Ethan’s hot-and-heavy girlfriend was at Maxine Took’s eightieth birthday party last summer, and her first impression of Diana Iverson had been that she was an uptight lawyer who needed to learn to relax. (Didn’t they all?)
Fiona’s initial opinion hadn’t been far from the truth, but after Diana went through some serious upheaval last summer—and hooked up with Ethan during the process—she’d mellowed out quite a bit. Since then, Fiona had visited them in Chicago several times and had come to appreciate and genuinely like the woman whom she suspected would someday be her sister-in-law.
“Thank you,” Fiona replied, slipping her arm through Diana’s, her long yellow skirt billowing against their legs. “It is exciting—but I can’t decide whether to be thrilled at the opportunity, or scared to death that the place is nothing but a money pit—and something that’s going to tie me down forever.”
“Yeah, that’s my Fifi. Anything even remotely like a commitment makes her hair go frizzy,” Ethan said, giving her long, curly hair a tug. “Which is why it always looks like she stuck her finger in a socket.”
She rolled her eyes and gave him a sisterly shove as he approached the front of the shop.
There were two large beveled windows that arched out on either side of the door, which created a little covered alcove at the entrance. All of the glass was dingy and looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned for years. An ancient sign on the door said “Closed” in large block letters. On one side of the establishment was the clothing boutique, sharing the same interior wall. But the other side of the building ended at an alley no wider than a footpath between it and the next building, which appeared to be a small real estate office.
“Sure doesn’t look like much,” Ethan said as he peered through one of the door’s windows.
Fiona crowded into the little alcove next to him. “Let me look.Ididn’t even get to see yet—I was waiting for you.” She gave him a playful bump at the hip and cupped her hands against the glass so she could look.
It was dark and shadowy inside, and she couldn’t make out many details. “Looks like a lot of stuff in there,” she said uncertainly. “But I can’t tell if it’s any good or just junk.”
“I wonder if the place makes any money,” commented Diana as she too squinted through a window, carefully avoiding getting dust on her pale blue sweater. “It’s a little off the beaten path, but still close enough to walk—it took us about twenty minutes to get here from the middle of town. Did the estate attorney give you any of the tax returns or balance sheets? Anything like that? Or do you have to wait for probate?”
“I don’t have any of that information yet—but I’ll find out more when I meet with H. Gideon on Tuesday.”
Ethan pulled away from the window. He had a dark smudge on the tip of his nose, and Fiona decided it was her prerogative as his sisternotto tell him. “H. Gideon?” he said, lifting a brow.
“Yes,” Fiona replied, resisting the urge to rub the end of her own nose and risk tipping him off. “H.Gideon Nath,the Third. He’s the estate attorney, and he’s got a real big stick up his behind. I think his face would crack if he ever showed any emotion at all. And he won’t tell me what the H is for.”
She’d been mulling over it all week. Hank? Herbert? Harry?
“He thinks I’m a real ditz—I can tell. And I couldn’t help messing with him a little,” she added with a grin.
