Charon's Crossing

"Amenities," Kathryn said with a little smile. "Yes, so I've been told before."

"It's also wonderfully short on crime."

"Well, that's a relief to hear, considering that this house is stuck out on a cliff, smack in the middle of nowhere."

"Oh, greathouses always were put up on the highest, biggest piece of land. Folks back then were no different than they are now. If you were goin' to spend lots of money buildin' a home, you didn't want it surrounded by other houses not anywhere near so grand."

Kathryn nodded. "That makes sense." She hesitated. "But if it's so safe on Elizabeth Island, why were you worried when I didn't answer the door?"

Olive Potter's mouth opened, then shut. "Well," she said, "well... I wasn't 'worried.' Not exactly. I was, ah... concerned. Amos told me Charon's Crossin' was in need of lots of repairs. I suppose I envisioned you fallin' on a rotted step and sprainin' your ankle or somethin'." She grinned. "Not that Amos would ever permit such a thing to happen to a client of his, of course."

Kathryn laughed. She liked Olive Potter, with her lilting island accent and her easy smile. She had a down-to-earth air about her and that was definitely what she needed this morning.

"You're right," she said lightly. "I can't imagine Mr. Carter letting anything happen to a client that didn't meet with his absolute approval." She smiled. "Look, Miss Potter—"

"Please. Call me Olive."

"And you must call me Kathryn."

Olive smiled and held out her hand. "How do you do, Kathryn? It's a pleasure to meet you."

Kathryn smiled and clasped Olive's outstretched hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, too. And to have a visitor on a morning like this."

"Your first in Charon's Crossin'?"

"My first. And, I hope, my worst." Kathryn turned around and slammed shut the doors of the armoire, grunting a little as she forced the right-hand door into place.

"Yes. It can't have been pleasant, wakin' up in a room that looks as if it's fallin' down around your ears," Olive said sympathetically.

"That's true enough." Kathryn puffed out her breath as she swung towards Olive. "But I was talking about... well, I know it sounds silly but I had the most awful dream."

"Dream?"

"A nightmare, really." Kathryn walked to the bed, picked up the pillow and gave it a vigorous plumping before tossing it back onto the sheet. "Nothing worth talking about." She gave a laugh that sounded forced, even to her own ears. "Just a costume drama, brought on, I suppose, by this spooky old house."

She turned and smiled at Olive, but Olive didn't smile back.

"A costume drama, Kathryn?"

"Yeah. You know, opulent settings, a guy in a shirt open to his navel... Don't look so worried, Olive. It wasn't all that bad, now that I think about it."

"Kathryn, you know, I was tellin' Amos, I have a nice little house for rent right on the beach in town. It's clean and modern and you could stay in it while you are on the island."

"Thanks, but I'm fine out here."

"Are you sure? This house is so big. And it's such a... well, it isn't in the best shape."

"It's a mess," Kathryn said cheerfully. "And I do thank you for your suggestion but really, I'll manage. I'm only going to be here a week and I'll get lots more accomplished if I stay at Charon's Crossing." She wrinkled her nose. "Like scrubbing it out. I'm going to get a start on that this morning."

"And I've interrupted you."

"No, don't be silly. You're a very welcome sight, believe me. Look, why don't you give me a couple of minutes to put myself together? Then I'll make some tea—I'd offer you coffee, but I haven't got any. We can sit down and have a cup while we chat."

Olive nodded. "That sounds fine, Kathryn. How would it be if I took a quick look through the house while you're gettin' yourself dressed? That way, I'll have a bit of an idea what it might bring if we put it on the market."

"Not 'if,'" Kathryn said. "When. Sure. You do that. Take the fifty-cent tour and I'll be down in a couple of minutes."