The Country Guesthouse

by Robyn Carr

  “If you think of something, call. You plan to pick him up after two hours, right? And tell me, does Noah need any kind of assistance?”

  “No, he’s as fast on those crutches as I am on my two legs. But watch your shins—those shoes are hard.”

  “Thanks for the tip.”

  “And please don’t let anyone but me pick him up.”

  “Would someone else try?” she asked with a look of concern.

  “We have a slight issue. Noah’s biological grandmother wants to see much more of Noah than I would like, though I can’t imagine how she would know he’s here. But to be safe...”

  “I will stand guard! Have a nice two-hour break!”

  Hannah’s nerves over being away from Noah or sending him off for a playdate began to calm and she enjoyed helping Owen in the shop. One problem, working together like that with Noah at school led to hanky-panky. She would feel his hand on her butt or his lips on her neck and the next thing she knew she was sprawled naked beneath him, shuddering with a mind-blowing orgasm.

  “Next summer I’m going to plant a garden like Sully’s, but on a slightly smaller scale,” she said.

  Owen raised up on an elbow and smiled down at her. “You’re still all pink from sex and you’re talking about digging up my yard.”

  She giggled. “This isn’t good for your career progression,” she informed him.

  “It’s good for my life, though.”

  “It’s a honeymoon,” she said. “No interruptions, no kid calling out every five minutes... Oh, Owen, what you do to me.”

  “I know—I make you think of dirt. I’m not letting you dig up the yard unless you marry me.”

  “We don’t have to do that...”

  “We could get married and adopt Noah—then we’d all have the same last name and be a real, legal family. It could give us a little extra protection against the Rogers and Victorias of the world. Want to think about it? Talk to Noah about it? Want to ask Cal if it would make your position more secure?”

  “Is it too soon after Erin’s death?” she asked. “I don’t want Noah to feel like we’re ignoring his mother. She’ll always be an important part of our lives and I’ll do whatever I can to keep her memory alive...”

  “It might make him feel more secure. I’m in for the long haul.”

  “Are you sure? Because I love this life with you but I haven’t really figured everything out yet. I have no job.”

  “You don’t? For someone with no job, you sure seem to be busy all the time. Do you worry that if you find something you’d like to do, I’d try to stop you?”

  “You might, once you get used to my help in the shop.”

  “Nah. You’ve called off two weddings, saving yourself for me. Do you have your heart set on a big wedding? If so, we have to start planning. And we have to get Cal to work us up a pre-nup. Not for me, for Noah’s trust. Did you say yes yet?”

  She put her arms around his neck and rolled with him, ending up on top, her hair falling like a curtain around his face. “I think we should let Noah decide if he wants us to be a forever family. I know he’ll say yes, but I want to reassure him.”

  “Okay,” Owen said. “Let’s do it. And then I’ll help you dig up the yard next spring.”

  “Don’t you have trips planned?” she asked.

  “I’m not going anywhere until we’re all buttoned-down here.” He gave her a little kiss. “Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

  “I thought it was the other way around.”

  * * *

  Helen was feeling a little guilty. She wondered if she should tell Hannah or at least Cal that she was sticking her nose in Victoria’s business. But she wanted to have more information to present before doing that. On three different days over two weeks she’d had three more casual glasses of wine with the woman and really felt she was getting to know her. Well, getting to know the person Victoria wanted her to know.

  In the couple of weeks since their first glass of wine, Victoria had read some of Helen’s books. She had a lot of questions about how many books Helen had written and how many copies she had sold. Helen was devilishly tempted to ask her if she wanted a calculator. She had no proof but it seemed as though Victoria was trying to estimate Helen’s net worth.

  Victoria raved about Helen’s writing for a good fifteen minutes—it appeared she had read at least three or four books. Helen found it hard not to be charmed by her. In fact, if Helen weren’t inherently cynical and suspicious, she would make Victoria her best friend.

  But Victoria’s conversation was punctuated with heavy sighs and a bit of nervous twitching. “Victoria, is something wrong? You seem not quite yourself.”

  And then Victoria dropped the bomb. “Oh, I haven’t been feeling well. I’ve lost a few pounds, my lymph nodes are swollen, I’m fatigued. I’m afraid my cancer is back. Hodgkin’s.”

  “Oh, no!” Helen said. “When did you have it before?”

  “A few years ago. Five years now.”

  That was a different number. Cal had been told seven years ago.

  “What will you do?”

  “I’ll go back to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester. That’s where I was treated before.”

  “Will you stay in Minnesota, then? To be closer to your doctor?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said. “I let my house go. I think I’ll stay somewhere near the clinic for tests. I might come back here. I do have my grandson here. I’m going next week—there’s only one way to know for sure—biopsies and blood work.”

  “We can keep in touch by phone.”

  “I’ll try. It’s an insidious disease,” Victoria said. “It couldn’t come at a worse time. And, of course, my insurance was canceled. Fortunately I have enough saved to get through the biopsy.”

  Helen could see where this was leading and she was very cooperative. “But what about the treatment?” she asked. “How will you pay for that?”

  Victoria shrugged. “I’ll manage somehow.”

  “You said you were afraid your cancer is back. How did you manage before?”

  “I had insurance then,” she said. “And a couple of coworkers held a fund-raiser for me and that covered the copay and my rent while I couldn’t work. I don’t have any coworkers here. Very few friends at all, for that matter. And aside from a couple of distant cousins, no family.”

  “But you must have dozens of friends in Minneapolis. Haven’t you lived there forever?”

  “Yes, I have a few friends, most of them live from paycheck to paycheck, like I used to. And the truth is I feel closer to you than most of my other friends, and in such a short time, too. But thankfully I’ve stopped worrying so much about Hannah and Noah. I think I have a more positive attitude toward the whole affair. I have a feeling if I’m patient, I’ll have a future with my grandson. How much of a future, only God knows.”

  So Helen went home and made a call to Cal. “Do you have an address for Victoria Addison? I’ve been poking around in her life a bit.”

  “What are you looking for?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “Lies, I suppose.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but everyone lies. And it’s not illegal.” But he did give her the address. Victoria was not his client; it was the same address his private detective had discovered.

  Helen looked up the county assessor’s website in Minneapolis. She found the name of the owner of the home Victoria rented was Gerald Sudmeyer. She googled his name and got a phone number. Then she walked over to the store to borrow Sully’s phone.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I want to call someone and not have my name pop up on the caller ID. I’m being clandestine.”

  “Oh, brother. I think you’re butting your nose in.”

  “A little bit, but for a good cause.”

  “And what goo
d cause might that be, madam?”

  “I don’t want to divulge that information just yet,” she said. “I’ll bring your phone back when I’m done.”

  “And then you’ll tell me?”

  Helen grinned. “You play all innocent but you’re just as nosy as I am. Yes, I’ll tell you after I make a call. I might not have much to tell.”

  She got comfortable on the porch and went over everything she might say in her mind. Then she dialed.

  And, of course, she got the voice mail. This is the Sudmeyer residence... What a buzzkill. She thought the chance was slim that anyone would return her call but left a message anyway. “Hello, my name is Jane Sullivan and I’m calling about a woman who might be a mutual friend of ours—Victoria Addison. Would you please call me back at this number? I’d so appreciate it.” Then she put the phone down on the table in disappointment. She opened her laptop and attempted to set her brain to her story in progress.

  It was barely ten minutes later that Sully’s phone rang and she looked at the caller ID to see if it was one of Sully’s friends or family. The name on the ID was Sudmeyer. “Hello?” she answered expectantly.

  “Hello, this is Gerry Sudmeyer. Is Jane there?”

  “Speaking. Thank you for getting back to me, Mr. Sudmeyer. I’m trying to locate Mrs. Victoria Addison. Do you happen to have a number for her?”

  “I have a number but it doesn’t appear to be working,” he said. “Do you mind if I ask—how do you know her?”

  “Oh, we go way back, but I haven’t spoken to her in quite a while and frankly, I’ve gotten a little worried. I sent last year’s Christmas card to an address that appears to be your house.” Helen recited the address. “I was hoping she was staying with you.”

  “That’s a rental. We haven’t seen her in months. I don’t know how to tell you this but... Well...she’s sick. I thought maybe you were a relative calling to give me the bad news... Her son stopped by to cut the grass a few months ago but I don’t have any contact information for him and I don’t know his first name. I’ve called several hospitals...”

  “Sick?” Helen asked. “Oh, my, that’s not good news. What was the matter? Was she terribly ill?”

  “I’m afraid so,” he said. “Cancer. Lost her hair from the chemo and she was looking pretty bad. She’d lost weight and had dark circles under her eyes. You called just in time—I’m going to have to put her things in storage and clean out the house.”

  “You haven’t heard anything from her?”

  “No, ma’am. Like I said, she’s been sick. She wasn’t able to pay the rent for months and we let it slide as long as we could. If she had at least called...”

  “If she’s too sick to call, I suppose she’s too sick to make the rent,” Helen said.

  “I have a storage locker—large. I can hold her things for six months. That’s in the lease, by the way. But I can’t hold it any longer than that. Our rentals are for our retirement.”

  “I’m sure she’d understand. How long has it been since you’ve heard from her?”

  “At least three months. But she was sick a lot longer. We worked with her, you know. I wouldn’t turn out a sick woman. I’m afraid she might’ve... You know, it’s possible she passed.”

  “Mr. Sudmeyer, births and deaths are public record. You can look at the obituaries...”

  “Oh, I did. But she said that she’d lived in Minneapolis for ten years but wasn’t from Minnesota. And I’ll be damned if I can remember if she even said where she was from. I suppose I could search all fifty states but the wife and I—we’re not that slick on the computer. I could ask my granddaughter...”

  She hasn’t passed, Helen thought. And she’s a master with makeup. She was a petite woman and it was possible she wore clothes a size or two larger than she needed so it looked like she was wasting away. But what was the point? You can’t make a living by dodging the rent.

  “Oh, dear,” Helen said. “It’s been almost a year since I talked to her and she promised... I’m ashamed, it’s just plain selfish of me to think of that loan when poor Victoria might’ve—”

  “You loaned her money?” he asked.

  “It’s been quite a while ago now,” Helen said.

  “We loaned her money, too. A good amount. She needed it for medical expenses. Not that we really had it to spare...”

  Pow, Helen thought.

  “I’m sixty-five,” Helen said. “And not made of money, either.”

  “Well, we’re in our seventies and our whole plan was to live off the rent on a few houses. But she was in need. What’re you gonna do? I want to sleep at night.”

  “Would you mind taking down this number, and if you hear anything at all about Victoria, would you give me a call?” Helen asked. “I’d so appreciate it.”

  “I will. And if you hear anything...?”

  “I’ll call you, of course. And, Mr. Sudmeyer, I hope everything is all right and you get your money back.”

  Helen sat for quite a while with Sully’s phone in her fist, thinking.

  She wondered if lots of people dodged their rent. She had acquaintances who had rental properties and about half of them complained that their property was damaged or their renters ran out in the night, owing them money.

  Helen had a thought. She looked up the cost of chemo and the range was wide, depending on the specific cancer and the drugs required. It was all over the place—from ten grand to five hundred thousand dollars. There were dozens of programs that could offer help, depending on the patient’s financial status.

  Victoria really didn’t seem like the kind of person who would take money from a landlord who didn’t have much to spare. Sure, she’d given Hannah and Owen a little trouble, but once the judge and then Hannah stood up to her, she backed off and seemed happy to have someone to share a glass of wine with.

  Someone whose net worth she was working out in her head.

  Then she chuckled, not because anything was funny. Victoria had worked in a seniors’ services center. Nursing homes. Real estate. Mortgage companies. Oh, my.

  She took Sully’s phone back to him at the store.

  “Well?” Sully said.

  “After some novice investigating I might have figured out Victoria Addison, but it will take a lot more to be sure. I think maybe she’s a grifter.”

  * * *

  Victoria called Helen just to say hello, her voice sounding weak and thready. “It’s just the pain medication, Helen. That’s all. I’m really doing just fine. I don’t have the results just yet.”

  “Oh, drat,” Helen said sympathetically. “And when do you suppose that will happen?”

  “Tomorrow or the next day,” she said.

  “So, did you have to stay overnight in the hospital?” Helen asked.

  “Yes, I’ve been here two days but I’m very sure I’ll be discharged right after I see the doctor tomorrow. Tell me, Helen. Do you think Hannah is a good person? Kind?”

  “Sure,” Helen said. “She’s very sweet...”

  “Bit of a tiger about keeping me away from Noah,” Victoria said. Then she coughed dramatically.

  “I think she’s just trying to honor her friend’s wishes, and I am sorry about any misunderstanding between you and your daughter. But that’s not Hannah’s fault. You know I speak the truth.”

  “It’s such a strange feeling being here, waiting for test results and feeling, oddly enough, that because of Noah, Hannah is like my nearest relative. I wonder if she’d take pity on me now.”

  “Hmm,” Helen hummed, saying nothing more.

  “I wonder, Helen. If it turns out I need a little help, would you consider a loan?”

  “Hmm,” Helen said again. “I could look into it, depending on the circumstances. Shall we wait and see what happens?”

  Victoria coughed again and then said she’d better say good
bye and get some rest.

  Helen went to the internet again, looked up every hospital within a hundred miles of the Mayo Clinics in Rochester and Minneapolis. She asked to speak to Victoria Addison, a patient. They had no such patient.

  She told Sully she was going to dash over to Cal’s and visit with him a bit.

  “Do you mind running by the store in Timberlake and getting us some batteries?” he asked. “We’re running low and I still have some hikers coming through. Just get a couple of big packs of AAs and Cs and I’ll order a larger supply.”

  “Be happy to, Sully. In fact, I’ll do it on my way to Cal’s. Anything else?”

  “Pie?” he asked.

  “I think you know better. Maybe some frozen yogurt,” she said.

  But when she got to the store, she was unable to pay for her batteries or yogurt. Her wallet was gone. Other than slipping her phone in and out of her purse, she hadn’t been in it once since she met with Victoria for wine several days ago. And Victoria had paid the wine bill.

  “I’ll be damned,” she said. “Who is that woman?”

  * * *

  “I think your detective might have missed a few things,” Helen told Cal. “Or maybe he didn’t come to the right conclusions. I can’t say I understand Victoria’s plan, but I’m getting a pretty clear picture of who she is. I got a very clear picture when I noticed my wallet was missing from my purse and the last time I had it I was with her.”

  “You think she’s a pickpocket?” Cal asked, eyebrows raised.

  “More of a petty thief with the occasional windfall. I’ve learned she can get by faking illness and dodging rent. She probably has a lot of scams she was never arrested for, large and small. I talked to her last landlord and he said he believed she was very sick and didn’t evict her, but you can’t make a living that way. That’s pocket change. But she also got a loan from him and, of course, she hasn’t attempted to repay him. Or even call him. Remember when you learned she was seven years cancer-free? She told me it was five years and she’s afraid her cancer is back. She also mentioned friends held a fund-raiser to help her with the bills. I bet that’s happened more than once, the poor darling. She thinks I’m wealthy and asked me if I could float a loan if she needs treatment. She assumed Owen is wealthy, and I played him off as just getting by as a writer, but she was calculating the value of his house.