“No way, Mama. Didn’t he go to prison for nearly killing a man?” Annie remembered her mother relaying the gossip some years ago, during one of their many long-distance gossip sessions. According to her mother, Rory had gone to prison for assaulting some guy in a bar. It had surprised Annie at the time because in the whole time she’d ever known Rory, he’d never been the violent type, but apparently he’d nearly killed the man, and had been sent straight to prison.
“Oh, nonsense. That fella was fine, Rory just got unlucky and had a mean judge. Besides, I’ve seen him since he’s been out, and he’s a fine contractor.” Bessie winked as she spoke these last two words. “Mighty fine, and mighty single.” Bessie had always liked Rory, and Annie suspected that her mother had hoped he would ask Annie to marry him, but their relationship was never that intense. They’d been so young when they dated, and although Annie had liked Rory, she always wondered if she couldn’t do better than the boy across town who had no plans beyond graduating high school and going to work for his father at his used car sales lot.
“Forget it, Mama. I’m not calling him.”
“This ain’t New York City. Your choices are limited, young lady, and I’m sure Rory could use the work. You know his daddy’s business went bust not long before he passed, God rest his soul. I reckon that’s partly why Rory had his troubles,” she added.
Annie sighed. Her mother had a point. It wasn’t as though Coopersville had that many contractors just sitting around, waiting for work. And now that her mother had sold her house, they’d need someplace to stay, and the farmhouse seemed as good a place as any, as long as she could get someone to just patch up the few holes in the roof and make sure the place wasn’t going to fall in on their heads.
“Well, I don’t have Rory’s number anymore.”
Bessie put the picture frame that she was holding in the box and walked around to the other side of the bed. She opened the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out an old-fashioned flip-open telephone number index. It was straight out of the seventies if it was a day old, and Bessie flipped it open expertly. “Here you go. Rory Jenkins, I have his cell phone number, you know, in case you needed it.”
Annie rolled her eyes and accepted the index. She typed Rory’s number into her phone and suddenly felt the power of speech leave her. She hadn’t anticipated feeling so nervous about the idea of talking to Rory. In fact, she hadn’t really given him much thought at all these past years, but for some reason, the idea of talking to her past overwhelmed her. She thrust the phone into her mother’s hands. “You talk to him. Tell him we need someone as soon as possible. I need to go to the bathroom.”
Annie left her mother holding the phone, and a few seconds later she could hear her talking to someone in her cheerful, singsong voice she reserved for people she really wanted to impress. Annie went into the bathroom and splashed water on her face, trying to take in the fact that she was really going through with her new business venture. Moments later, Bessie’s head popped around the door frame.
“He’s going to meet us up there, sweetheart. I told him we needed somebody urgently, and he seemed happy to oblige. I think he still likes you,” she confided and left before Annie could reply.
Well, like me or not, Annie thought, he’d better know how to swing a hammer.
3
A Good Man Is Hard To Find
Bessie Mae Purdy prided herself on her fine cooking skills, her ability to hold a conversation with almost any human being, and her knack for being an excellent judge of character, though to be fair, she gave most people the benefit of the doubt where character was concerned. Her daughter called her naive, but Bessie preferred to think of herself as open-minded. She was cautious around new people, but it didn’t take long for Bessie to discern whether or not a person was worth keeping around.
Annie had driven them all over, along with as many of Bessie’s belongings as they could fit in the back of Annie’s new truck, and they arrived at the farm before Rory. Bessie suspected that Annie wanted to “find her feet” before her former flame arrived on the scene, and she hoped that perhaps Rory could provide Annie with more than a few carpentry skills. Bessie had always liked the man’s friendly personality and level-headedness. He was nothing like that David, the fool who swept her daughter off her feet and who eventually broke her heart.
Bessie thought that Devon could use a good male role model in his life, too, even if it was just one who was hired on for a few months. Even if things didn’t rekindle between Annie and Rory, Bessie had a sneaking suspicion they’d be seeing plenty of the contractor in the future. He’d seemed pretty desperate for work, and work was something they had plenty of here on the farm. Bessie had even considered speaking to her daughter about offering Rory a job after the bed and breakfast was open. They would likely need a full-time handyman, after all, and she wouldn’t mind one bit if Rory kept up his contractor’s business as long as he put the farmhouse’s needs first.
Annie was sweeping the kitchen, the temporary headquarters of the house. Devon had tracked down his little kitten again and was feeding it tuna from a can he’d brought from Bessie’s old house. Bessie dug through a box for a pitcher and some tea bags. She’d decided early on that she wouldn’t spend the entire day here without access to decent food and drinks, so she’d filled a cooler with food and brought everything she needed to make a gallon of sweet tea. She pulled an empty plastic pitcher from a box on the back of the truck, then changed her mind and took the entire box into the kitchen. Annie gave her a funny look when she pulled the pitcher out, placed two teabags into it, and proceeded to fill it with water from the crusty kitchen sink.
“Sun tea,” Bessie stated and sat the pitcher on the window sill above the sink. Annie grinned. “We’ll have this place feeling like home in no time, Annie, you wait and see!”
The sound of crunching gravel made both women startle. “That must be Rory,” Bessie said and headed out the door towards the front of the house. Annie put her broom and dustpan down and followed her mother, wiping grime off the end of her nose as she went, hoping she didn’t look like some sort of filthy mess.
“Mrs. Purdy!” Rory’s deep voice called across the yard and found its way into the parlour of the old house.
“I’m coming, Rory, I’m coming! I ain’t as young as I used to be, son, you’ve got to give me a minute.” Annie suppressed a laugh. Her mother was fit as a fiddle for her age, and could move much faster, but for some reason, she was playing the frail elderly woman part, probably hoping to earn some sympathy from her future contractor. Bessie ambled out onto the front porch, then waddled down the stairs in an exaggerated fashion. “Just put on a pitcher of sun tea, Rory, it should be ready in a few hours.” She smiled at the man who stood before her and glanced over her shoulder to see if Annie was watching.
Annie hadn’t come outside yet. She stood in the parlour, looking out the window and watching her mother’s little performance with a hint of enjoyment. When Bessie glanced her way, Annie realized that it was time to go and talk to the man she hadn’t seen in nearly two decades.
Rory was as fit as he’d ever been in high school, maybe even more so now. Time had been kind to his looks, which were what Annie would describe as chiseled and rugged. He had dark hair and piercing blue eyes, the kind she’d once thought she could get lost in just by looking at them for long enough. A small scar marked the corner of one eye, and she could swear she saw a fleck of silver at the edge of his hairline, but for the most part, Rory looked exactly the way he had when he’d broken up with her in their senior year of high school.
They’d been too young for anything serious, and they’d both known that. But it was Rory who broke off the relationship, telling her that it was for the best. She had gone away to college in Boston shortly after that, leaving her small town and Rory Jenkins far behind. She’d seen him a handful of times around town when she’d come home for visits, and although he’d been cordial with her, he never could bring himself to actu
ally speak to her, so she’d put him firmly in her past and looked to her future, which ended up bringing her full circle, right back to Coopersville and Rory’s crooked grin.
Annie glanced at her own reflection in the window as she approached the door. She had certainly changed. Back then she’d been a lithe little thing, all straight lines and only a few curves. She’d been athletic and self-assured, for the most part. Somehow that had all slipped away sometime during these last two decades. Motherhood had rounded out her body, giving her soft curves and a few fine worry lines. Annie wasn’t the slim young girl she had once been, but her matronly figure still looked good. She’d at least tried to keep herself in shape, though admittedly it had been very low on her list of priorities since David had died. She reckoned a great number of her worry lines had appeared in the past six months, too, and something told her there would be more in her near future.
Annie’s stomach did a little flip-flop as she stepped out onto the front porch and paused, looking from Rory and her mother to the truck he’d driven up in. It was loaded with building supplies and there was a trailer attached to the back of the truck. It looked like a travel camper, one that had definitely seen better days. Does he live in that thing? She took a deep breath and strode purposefully down the front steps to where her mother and Rory were standing.
Rory had been telling Bessie all about how he’d almost missed the turn-in to the farm, but he stopped mid-sentence when Annie walked up. Bessie grinned, and offered an introduction, though she knew none was needed. “Rory, you remember my daughter, Annie, don’t you? Y’all used to date each other in high school.”
Annie’s confidence threatened to waver as Rory pulled her into an awkward hug. “Of course, I remember Annie. I’m awfully sorry to hear about your loss. Your mother told me about why you moved back to town. It must have been a pretty big shock, losing your husband like that.”
Annie smiled weakly. “Yeah, David was only forty-three. Nobody expected it, but here we are, and I’m trying to move on with things as best I can. Did my mother tell you what it is that we need?” She wanted to keep the focus on the farm, not her private life, though admittedly she was curious about Rory’s checkered past.
Rory took the hint and cleared his throat. “Yes, she did. Though, I have to admit, that she might have understated the amount of work it’s going to take,” he added, surveying the plantation farmhouse and the buildings beyond. “Is that barn in good shape?” He asked, nodding towards the faded red building.
“Well, we don’t know for sure. The door seems to be jammed, so we haven’t been able to look inside.” Annie pushed her hair back from her eyes. “I’m not too concerned with the barn just this minute, though. What we really need is the house in livable condition, at least part of it. My mother,” she sighed, “sold her house this week, so we need a place to stay while we get the place in shape for business.”
Rory raised one eyebrow. “Now, why would you go and do a thing like that, Mrs. Purdy? I mean, this place looks sturdy enough, but I’m not sure it’ll be what you call livable for a few days at least.” He took a deep breath, then pulled out a small notepad and a tape measure from his pocket. “Let me take a look and see what needs to be done first, if you don’t mind. Then I can get started.”
Annie seemed surprised. “We haven’t talked about costs or your work schedule yet,” she exclaimed. “How do we know you’re not going to charge through the roof for your services?”
Rory looked back at the house, squinted one eye, then headed to the back of his truck, where he pulled out a well-worn ladder. “Because, I’m not in the business of screwing people over. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a look at that roof. I don’t think it’s gonna rain tonight, but if your mama has her heart set on moving in right away, I’m going to need to make sure she doesn’t get wet if it does.”
Annie didn’t know whether to be offended or impressed by his gung-ho attitude, but she had to admit that he was right. If they were going to get moved into the house any time soon, repairs needed to be made, and Rory was the only contractor willing to do them. She turned to Bessie, who was digging through the boxes in the back of Annie’s truck. “I guess we need to call the electric company,” Annie suggested, helping her mother lift out a box filled with dishes.
“Oh, no need,” Bessie shooed her away, carrying the box towards the house on her own. “I called them this morning while you were in the shower. Charley said they’ll have the power on by noon.”
Annie grinned as she watched her mother make her way up the steps and into the house. She had to admit when Bessie Mae set her mind to something, she got things done. Annie pottered along behind Bessie, trying not to fixate on where in the house Rory was at any given time. She held her breath as she heard him shimmy up the ladder and stomp around on the roof, and she found herself re-sweeping sections of the floor as she got distracted by thoughts of him falling through the ceiling or off the roof and onto the ground. She held her breath most of the time she listened to his knocks and taps until her mother scolded her.
“He knows what he’s doing. Do you?” She pointed at the pile of dust Annie had missed completely, and her daughter blushed.
“I can’t help it. I’m a worrier.” Anne decided to stop sweeping and move to the upstairs bedrooms. She needed to find at least one of them that they could set up camp in for the night. She paused on the landing halfway up the stairs to look out the window at Devon, who seemed to be talking to Rory as he worked on the roof. Her son still had the little orange kitten tucked tightly in his arms, and for the first time since she could remember, he looked content. Maybe not happy, not yet, but she hoped that would come.
There were eight bedrooms in the farmhouse, three large ones and five smaller ones. Annie had already begun envisioning the rooms as they’d look when she finished decorating them. The three larger rooms overlooked the front lawn and majestic views of the surrounding mountains. The best view, at least in her mind, could be found only in the smallest, coziest room at the far end of the house. It overlooked part of the pasture that had once been used for growing cotton and part of the pond, where she imagined the former owners had spent many hours fishing or even swimming if they were brave enough.
She opened the windows of the rooms to let in some fresh air. The pollen wasn’t too bad yet this year, and the breeze might just help clear out some of the dust in the old rooms. Annie had been told that some of the home’s furnishings were still in the house, though it hadn’t been lived in for over a decade. She checked every bedroom, but apart from a couple of small tables, there was no sign of the furniture. She decided to check the attic but was distracted by Bessie’s calls from downstairs. Making a mental note to have Rory help her investigate the attic, she headed back down to her mother.
“Hey, Mama, has the power company sent anybody over yet?” Annie thought that her mother’s contacts with the Coopersville Electricity Board must have finally come through, but she was surprised to see a well-dressed blonde woman standing in the middle of her kitchen.
“Oh, Annie Purdy, would you just look at you! You haven’t changed a bit since high school, well, except maybe you put a little weight on.”
It took Annie a few moments to place the face in front of her, but when it clicked, it clicked hard. “Suzy Anderson.” Annie looked at her mother, who shrugged in confusion.
“In the flesh!” The blonde smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Like her designer-style purse and large bust, the smile was an obvious fake.
“What are you doing here?” Annie surprised herself with her sharp tone, but she couldn’t help herself. Suzy had made her life a living hell in high school, teasing her mercilessly about everything from her frizzy hair to her freckles, and it seemed like everything that Annie wanted, Suzy got. They’d competed for spots on the softball team, cheerleading squad, and even the student council, and it always seemed that Suzy had the upper hand.
“Well, now, let’s cut right to the c
hase, shall we?” Suzy plonked her purse down on the counter and pulled out her checkbook. “I’m here to buy this house, and you’re gonna sell it to me.”
4
Blast From The Past
Annie was sure she’d have to pick her jaw up off the floor. “Excuse me?” She wiped the dust off her hands and crossed her arms. “I must have misunderstood you because this house is not for sale.”
Suzy tightened her smile, barely showing any teeth. “Don’t be silly, Annie. This property would have been mine, but your bid made it to the seller faster. I’m sure you can find somewhere else to live, and I can pay you five percent more than you paid for this place, so you can consider it flipped.”
“Suzy,” Annie began, putting her best, most calm voice into use. “You misunderstood me. We are in the process of renovating this place to turn it into a business. I’m not interested in selling, not for a five percent profit or any other profit. What makes you think you can walk in here after all these years and boss me around, anyway? I mean, I know you thought your poop didn’t stink back in high school, but surely you’ve come to your senses by now?”
Suzy’s smile disappeared completely. “We may have had our differences,” she said, looking from Bessie to Annie as she spoke, “but I’m trying very hard to make up for that. You see, the problem is, I’m not buying this house for me, but for my client, who requests to remain anonymous.” She stressed this last word, putting a level of importance on it that seemed comical to Annie. “My client is desperate to get his hands on this particular piece of land, and I’ve been authorized to offer you substantially more than you are paying for it if you’ll just stop your purchase of the property. I mean, it’s early days, you probably haven’t even been to your lawyer yet…”
Bodies & Buried Secrets: A Rosewood Place Mystery (Rosewood Place Mysteries Book 1) Page 2