Charon's Crossing

Olive smiled. "Same goes for things like redoin' floors and windows and such." She paused and frowned at the foyer walls. "Of course, it doesn't make such a good first impression, seein' that moldin' lookin' as if the termites have been at it."

"Yes," Kathryn said, sighing as she kicked a piece of molding aside. "I figured that."

"Well, check with Hiram. Ask him what he can do that will make things look better without it costin' you an arm and a leg."

"Right."

"You should probably also ask him to see to any leaks in the roof. And to check the plumbin' and electrical systems."

"I will. The first time the pipes began rumbling, I almost jumped out of my skin. And the lights have a really wonderful way of flickering on and off. The ones that work at all, that is."

"Anythin' else you've noticed that I've overlooked?"

Kathryn shook her head. "I don't think so. If you'll put me in touch with somebody who'll pitch in and help me scrub things down, it will help. I'd like to get rid of most of the grime and the yuck. And the spiders." She shuddered. "New York roaches are one thing, but spiders that build trampolines instead of webs are another."

Olive chuckled. "Fine. Well, is that it, then?"

They had wandered to the foot of the great staircase. Kathryn paused and looked up, to where the sunlit dust motes disappeared in the darkness of the second floor.

"Just about, except for that miserable draft. Feel it?"

Olive's gaze followed Kathryn's. "No. No, I can't say that I do."

"Really?" Kathryn gave a dramatic shudder and wrapped her arms around herself. "Boy, I certainly do."

"Maybe there's a broken window somewhere."

"I told that to our friend Amos. He assured me there wasn't. And I checked, after he left. He was right. The windows are fine."

Olive's head tilted further back. "Maybe the draft's comin' from the attic."

"The attic? You might be right. I never thought of looking there."

"Well, don't." Kathryn's brows shot up at the other woman's emphatic statement and Olive laughed. "Attics are always full of mice. And in this house, the trampoline-buildin' spiders are probably havin' themselves a fine time up in the attic, as well. Let Hiram do the lookin' for you, when he comes. Now, what can we say about Charon's Crossin' that will make it appealin' to a buyer?"

" 'For sale,' " Kathryn said in a mincing tone as they made their way out to the terrace again. " 'Handyman's special. All you need is a fat checkbook, a little imagination and a couple of dozen years and you'll have the vacation hideaway of your dreams.' "

Olive laughed as they leaned back against the rusted wrought-iron railing that rimmed the terrace.

"You're supposed to be tellin' me what a wonderful buy this house is, Kathryn. Don't you know that?" She turned and gazed out over the garden. "We can start by emphasizin' the beauty of the surroundin's."

"I agree. And the privacy. Seriously, I've been thinking about it, the fact that the house is pretty much off the beaten track, and it seems to me that our best bet is to deal with that head-on, turn it into an asset."

Olive gave Kathryn a wry look. "You sure you're not lookin' to take my job?"

Kathryn smiled and leaned her arms on the railing.

"What we need is a buyer with lots of money who's looking for a very private getaway. Right?"

Olive nodded. "Right." What an old fool you are, Amos, not to recognize how bright and quick this young woman is. "We want a man of discerning tastes and great wealth."

"A man," Kathryn said, "or a woman."

The realtor laughed. "Oh, I can just see how you must have jolted poor Amos."

Kathryn reached out and plucked a flower from a vine that had twined itself around the railing.

"It really is lovely here," she said, twirling the flower in her fingers. "Is the weather always this perfect?"