“Any of yous want cawfee? Just made some,” Uncle asked, ignoring his wife.
“No, thanks,” they said in unison. Just the prospect made Kate gag.
The elderly man turned, the seat of his underpants sagging, to go back to the kitchen for his coffee.
Dutch looked at Kate with raised eyebrows. Kate had regaled him with the story of Uncle Ralph’s creepy hobby of collecting Victorian photos of dead people. Apparently, it was fashionable to have a photo taken post-mortem. Just the thought of them totally grossed her out. Disgusting little man.
“Anyways,” Aunt Carmella continued while she filed her nails onto the tablecloth, “you need ta be careful. You won’t be killed if you watch yer back.”
“Thanks for your warning,” Kate said as she picked up her handbag, readying to leave.
“Leaving already?” Rachel returned to her sewing.
“Yes. Gotta run. See you again soon.” Kate leaned over and kissed her friend on the cheek.
“Hey—let's be careful out there,” Rachel warned.
Dutch pointed at her. “Hill Street Blues.”
“You’re right.” She did a high-five with him.
“Come on, Dutch. Let’s go.” I’m confused. Why do I feel jealous? He’s not paying more attention to Rachel than he is to me. Is he? No. I’m sure he isn’t. I’m just being insecure.
Chapter Five
Kate says: To make use of your small balcony or porch, transform it into an outdoor dining area. Anchor the whole arrangement with an outdoor rug, a flea-market-find table and unmatched chairs painted in calm colors such as apple green and blue. Scatter around different sized terra cotta pots of flowers and ferns for a natural touch. Look for an old chandelier to hang and convert it to candles. Sheer magic.
Dutch asked Kate to go with him to look at the places in his search for an office. They met the broker, Andy, at the first house and toured the building. It was much too small so they moved onto the next one, which was a little closer to the hospital complex and only two doors away from the first place they inspected. It had a decent backyard and, Dutch decided, could be used, or half of it, for a parking lot. “Better to have a rear parking lot,” he said. “It’s more discreet for my clients. Their cars wouldn’t be seen in that case.”
“The rest of the yard can be landscaped with grass and flower beds. You love gardening,” Kate said.
“Agreed. I think this house will fit the bill,” Dutch said to no one in particular. He sounded excited. “The two small front rooms could be combined into a large office. I don’t think this is a weight-bearing load wall.” He banged on the wall between the rooms.
“The back bedroom would work as a file and copy room—plus this part of the house is not over the basement area—perfect to hold the heavy safe you have,” Kate added. “It’s only a crawl space in that part of the house, so concrete could be poured to secure the safe.”
Dutch nodded. “And the kitchen could be updated but stay as a kitchen slash lunch room.”
“Good idea. You could prepare salads and healthy lunches.”
Dutch nodded at Kate’s last remark. “I’d save a few bucks by not eating every lunch at the diner.”
He walked across the room. “I could put a black leather couch on this wall—one that’ll open up into a bed.”
“A what?” Kate spun around to face him.
“Only if I get snowed in though.” He laughed. “Scared you for a minute, eh?”
Yes, it did. I pictured you entertaining other women in the office and jealousy crawled around my insides. She pretended to ignore him and kept strolling around the house. This is exciting. A whole house to renovate and decorate.
“This is great,” Andy the Broker said. “It usually takes a client several visits before they find a property they like—or can afford.”
“Just how much is it, anyway?” Dutch asked. “I didn’t ask the price.”
Andy showed him the photocopy of the listing and pointed to the price.
“That’s a bit high. I guess it’s because it’s in the commercial zone?”
“Yes, it has quite a bit to do with the asking price,” the broker said.
“I’ll make an offer though for a lower price. You should never offer to pay the asking price.”
“Of course. I was about to recommend that you make an offer,” Andy added quickly. “The seller’s anxious to sell.”
“How anxious?” Dutch leaned on the kitchen counter.
“Very eager. She’s the executrix of her mother’s estate, and this house makes up the bulk of the assets.”
“I’ll make an offer for an amount I can afford. Prices have plummeted lately. Just hope she accepts it. It’s a business expense so the purchase will help me with the income taxes too.”
“True,” Kate added. “It’s a good write-off.”
“Before we leave, is there some other part of the house you want to see?” Andy asked.
“Yes. I need to go downstairs to check the furnace and hot water heater.” Dutch turned on the basement light and quickly ran down the wooden steps. Kate stayed upstairs. She didn’t want to chance a misstep on unfamiliar stairs and injure her knee again.
After several minutes, Dutch emerged from the basement. “Looks good on the surface. They’re both fairly new. Of course a better inspection will be made by a professional.”
“All of the inspections will be contingencies to be complied with prior to the sale. It will be spelled out in the contract,” Andy said. “Let’s go back to my office. I’ll send your offer to the listing broker—I didn’t list this building.”
“Then what happens?” Dutch asked.
“If they accept your offer, I’ll draw up the contract and you’ll sign it before it’s sent to the seller’s broker for their signature.”
“I understand there’s a review period,” Dutch said.
“Yes. Naturally there are a few days—three days usually—for review with attorneys—during this period either you, or the seller, may cancel the contract.”
Dutch nodded and turned to Kate. “What do you think about the place?”
“It’s a well-made little house, stick built, and, though it was built in the fifties from the looks of the kitchen and bathroom, only materials of the best quality went into the construction of it.” Pleased he had asked for her opinion, she gave his arm an assuring squeeze.
“Thanks, I think so too.” He turned to the broker. “I’d like to make an offer.”
“All righty then,” Andy said.
He’s the corniest old man I’ve come across lately.
“We’ll meet you back at the office,” Kate said as the broker locked the door behind them.
She and Dutch walked back to his truck where they hugged.
“Congratulations,” she said.
“Not yet—the sellers have to accept my offer—the price I want to pay, and then go through the closing.”
“Piece of cake.”
“Sure,” he said as he started the truck, but Kate saw him cross his fingers for luck.
Cherie greeted them back at the office with wiggling fingers and a popping of her gum.
Lovely. Such a classy gal.
“Hi,” Kate said.
Andy showed them into his office and took out a pad of forms and dialed a number into the phone. He spoke to the other person, a Ralph, and communicated Dutch’s offer. Following a few “rights” and “yeses”, he hung up the receiver.
“I anticipate they’ll accept your offer,” he told Dutch. “The old lady died and the daughter needs to sell the property and get her hands on the money.”
“Sounds promising,” Dutch responded. “I feel more confident.”
“Once the price is approved, I’ll prepare the contract this afternoon and send it over to the broker. You can drop in anytime to sign it, too,” Andy said.
Kate and Dutch got up, ready to leave, when Andy stopped them. “I received a long overdue fee yesterday,” he began. “Now I have
some extra money to do up this dump and turn it into a proper office. I want it to be a place where I won’t be embarrassed about inviting in business people.” He looked pleased with himself.
“Really?” Kate said. “Congratulations. It must be a nice amount in order to redo your place.”
“Yes, it was. I’ll tell you all about it one day.” Andy sounded mysterious. “So, will you give me a price on how much it would cost to refurnish this joint?”
“Sure I will,” she said while checking her appointment book. “I have some work to do at my store this afternoon, but I can meet you here tomorrow morning, if it’s okay with you.”
He glanced at the tire-store calendar hanging on a nail on the wall. “I’m clear tomorrow morning. Say around ten?”
Kate shook his hand. “Until tomorrow then.”
“Thanks for your assistance today, Andy,” Dutch said and he shook Andy’s hand. “I’ll be back this afternoon to sign the contract.”
Chapter Six
Kate says: Have a tiny bathroom? Hang mismatched mirrors all over one wall to reflect light and make the small room look spacious.
Kate went to the local delicatessen and picked up two submarine sandwiches for herself and Abigail. They settled down to eat their meal in the small room, which acted as a lunch room at her store.
Kate unwrapped the butcher paper around her sandwich. She told her assistant about the contract on the little house which was to be Dutch’s office. “He’s going back to the real estate office this afternoon.”
Abigail took a big bite out of her sandwich. “Which one?” she mumbled with her mouth full.
“Stonington Real Estate.”
“Mmm.” Abigail shook her head a few times with a frown on her forehead. She held her hand over her mouth as she finished her mouthful.
“What? Is that a problem?” Kate asked while she waited for an answer.
“My brother-in-law used them when he bought his house, and he had big problems with him,” Abigail said after she’d swallowed.
“What kind of problems?” Kate pulled some rounds of onions out of her sandwich and placed them on the wrapper.
“They weren’t big problems, but they raised concerns with him.”
“What were they?” Kate’s curiosity was raised.
“To start with, the broker took the deposit check and didn’t have it deposited into an escrow trust account. We think he was using some of the money for office expenses.”
“Interesting. That’s an absolute no-no. I know attorneys who’ve been disbarred for dipping into their clients’ money held in trust.” Kate studied the lettuce in her sandwich. “Did everything else go smoothly?”
“The septic and insect inspections took a long time to do,” Abigail added. “Andy didn’t order them right away.”
“We’ll have to keep a close eye on him.”
“I’m glad I warned you though,” Abigail stated.
“Thank you for letting us know. You’re very helpful.” Kate rolled up the sandwich papers and wiped the table off with a paper towel. “Once the sellers accept the deal, I think I’ll suggest that Dutch makes his deposit check payable to the seller’s attorney’s trust account. It’ll be safer there.”
“Good idea.” Abigail walked back out into the store and began dusting again.
“The place looks nice and clean,” Kate said. “Thanks for tidying up and dusting. It makes a good appearance when customers come in. I hate it when I have to wipe dust off whatever I’m selling.” She laughed at the thought.
Kate brought some red and white bowls and a gravy boat from the back storage room and wiped them off with a damp cloth. She arranged them on one of the farm tables and took a digital photo of the arrangement. She did the same with some blue and white Delft collector plates except, this time, she arranged them on an Irish sideboard and took several digital photos of the group. She downloaded them onto her computer where she cropped and fiddled with the lighting on each photo before she saved it.
“Abby, if the phone rings, would you please answer it? I have to list these pieces on eBay, and I need to concentrate. Okay?”
“Sure, I’ll handle it,” Abigail answered.
Kate uploaded the photos to the auction site and wrote the ad listing describing the china. She uploaded the ads and then signed off the eBay site just as the little bell jingled on the store door.
“Hello, hello,” Dutch called out. “How are you lovely ladies this sunny afternoon?”
Kate stood. “You look like you signed the contract? You’re grinning from ear to ear.”
“Yes, me dear, I did sign it. The sellers accepted my offer with no reservations.”
“I’m excited for you,” Kate said. “It’ll be fun remodeling the place. I can barely wait.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” he asked. Once more he wasn’t sure if she was being serious or sarcastic—or pulling his leg.
“Very serious,” she answered. “I’m a pseudo-partner so I have to be interested in what you’re doing for the business.”
“Thanks, love.” He picked up her hand and kissed it.
“By the way, Abigail just told me that her brother-in-law had trouble with our realtor. May have been playing around with the trust account.”
“I’ll make sure I don’t give him my money to hold, other than the earnest money as a check to the client. Don’t worry about it.”
Chapter Seven
Kate says: Can’t find bed linens to complement your room? Why not paint your own sheets and pillowcases? Buy or make your own stencil and affix it to the article to be painted with spray adhesive. Color in the stencil by pouncing or scrubbing in with fabric paint using a stiff-bristled stencil brush. Finish up by heating the design to set it according to the manufacturer’s instructions.
Kate rose early, showered and dressed, then took her coffee onto the wide wooden porch, which faced the street. The porch had been the attraction when she and her husband had first looked at the property.
It was a sturdy Victorian house with three floors. The top level had been built to house the servants, but these days it was a charming guest suite complete with its own bathroom and sitting room. Visitors enjoyed their stays there. They told Kate it was like staying at an excellent bed and breakfast. In fact, when she retired, Kate swore she would open the house as a B&B. She would never be a lonely old woman that way.
She settled into an old chair covered with a faded quilt and sipped her coffee. The newspaper boy rode by on his bicycle and with perfect aim threw the folded paper up on the porch near the front door. The elderly woman across the street waved as she paused in her weeding of the flowerbeds in her yard before the day heated up to sweltering. An automatic sprinkler turned on spraying water over the neighbor’s lawn. It’s so peaceful. The neighborhood looks like it’s in a 1950’s movie set—everything looks perfect. I’d love to sit here all day and read a good book. But I have to get moving—enough time wasted.
She drained her mug, carried it into the kitchen and lined it up in the dishwasher.
“Have fun,” Mildred said to Kate as she gathered up her sample books and paint chip booklets.
“Thanks, Mum. It’s going to be interesting to put it mildly.”
“I heard from my ladies’ group that this Andrew Giamgello is a gigolo.” She clucked her tongue in disapproval. “He used to hang around with a gal called Kitten. They said you could scrape the makeup off her face it was so thick. Back home in England we said those women wore a fur coat and no knickers.”
“Mother. Really,” Kate said, astonished. “How do they know he was a gigolo? He certainly doesn’t look like a ladies’ man.”
“Those gals have lived here for decades and know all of the local dirt,” Mildred added. “They’ve good memories when it comes to men. They said it was a long time ago.”
“Must have been. He’s fat, unkempt and bald now.” Kate laughed. “He’s certainly not a boy-toy anymore.”
The door opened a
nd Dutch looked around it into the kitchen. “I am too a boy-toy. You’re talking about me again.”
“Hi,” Kate said. Laughing, she explained the conversation she’d had with her mother.
“That’s a good one,” Dutch said. “It has to be from his past—long past.”
Kate gathered up her folios and books.
“You ready?” he asked her.
“All set, sir.” She kissed her mother’s forehead.
“Bye, Mildred,” he said.
They quickly drove over to the real estate office. “I called the Association of Realtors in Edison,” Dutch said. “They’ve never had any complaints lodged against Andy in the last twenty years. I don’t know what these people are talking about.”
“That’s good news. Maybe his methods of doing business aren’t stellar, but there’s been nothing serious reported,” Kate answered.
They soon arrived at the realtor’s where they were met by Andy. “Cherie’s off today,” he said in greeting. “Come into my office and we can spread out those books, young lady.”
They walked into his office. It still smelled like oil although the motorcycle was gone.
“First of all, here’s my ten percent deposit on the house.” Dutch handed the realtor his check. “I made it out to the attorney’s trust account.”
“Oh, I’d prefer it be made out to me, but that’s okay,” the broker said. He sounded disappointed. “I’ll forward it to the attorney tomorrow.”
“Please do,” Dutch said, “and send me a copy of the transmittal letter, if you would. I like a paper trail for every transaction I enter.” He hoped he didn’t sound too aggressive but it was called for, in his opinion, of this broker.
“Yes, sure.” The man’s face held a weak, watery smile.
Andy had cleaned off the brown, metal folding table apparently to ready it for Kate to use to set up the samples and catalogues. She and Dutch pulled over two chairs to the table, and Kate started to take notes on Andy’s preferences and ideas. He chose expensive leather chairs, bookcases, a credenza and a leather-topped mahogany desk. Where on earth is this money coming from?
Fleeced in Stonington Page 3