Free With Baited Breath by Lorraine Bartlett

told Herb where they were going and why, and then they piled into Kathy’s car.
    It had been at least a decade, maybe more, since Tori had gone up the Resort Road. Back then, it had been populated with summer cottages and a singlewide trailer or two. Now, the cottages were gone, and in their places were an assortment of year-round homes, from log cabins to a McMansion or two. At the top of the hill was the Bloomfield estate.
    The big two-story brick home sat at the top of the hill. Thick columns held up the roof of a wide porch that ran across the front of the house. The lawns were as meticulously groomed as the fairways of an exclusive country club. The landscaping around the front of the home was a riot of reds and pinks. Were they Lucinda Bloomfield’s favorite colors?
    The road’s only eyesore was the ramshackle little home of the man who’d been found in the Lotus Lodge just days before. One might call Mr. Jackson’s house a bungalow, but it was hard to see thanks to the knee-high grass and unkempt bushes that nearly hid it from view.
    Anissa’s truck was parked outside, and they could see she’d attempted to cut the grass with a rusty hand mower, the likes of which Tori hadn’t seen since she’d been at least ten. It was totally unsuitable for the task and Anissa had obviously given up after only managing to cut a swath about a foot wide and ten feet long.
    “I can see why old Lady Bloomfield doesn’t like the view at the bottom of her drive,” Tori muttered.
    “Nothing a little pruning, paint, and elbow grease couldn’t rectify.”
    Kathy was such an optimist.
    As they approached the side door, they saw a rusty power mower sitting under the plastic canopy that covered the cracked concrete patio. “Maybe I could offer to loan her our mower.”
    “Hey, if she’ll come to look at the house with me, I’ll offer to cut the grass for her.”
    Tori knocked on the door. They looked around self-consciously as they waited.
    “Knock again,” Kathy whispered.
    Tori knocked harder this time, and soon the door swung back. “Ready for some company?”
    Anissa filled the doorframe. She’d been crying again. She looked over her shoulder. “Not really, but … Oh, what the hell. Come on in.”
    She moved aside and Tori stepped in. “Oh, my,” she said with awe as she took in the kitchen, which was not what she was expecting.
    “It’s beautiful,” Kathy said as her gaze traveled around the room to the apron sink and granite counters.
    “Sorry about the mess. I was having lunch,” Anissa apologized. “I found some bread in the freezer. Care for a peanut butter sandwich?”
    “No, thanks. We just ate,” Tori said, still taking in the details of the kitchen. A small stainless steel dishwasher stood next to a wine fridge. The cabinets were cherry, sporting polished nickel hardware.
    “Wow. Noreen over at The Bay Bar said your father was a gifted carpenter. She wasn’t kidding,” Kathy murmured.
    “The place looks a wreck on the outside. I don’t suppose Daddy entertained much, but he did like to putter around and fix things up. And you are?”
    “Oh, I’m sorry. Anissa Jackson, this is my friend, Kathy Grant,” Tori said.
    “Nice to meet you,” Kathy said and offered her hand. They shook. ”I’m so sorry for your loss.”
    “Yeah, well … so am I,” Anissa said, her voice wavering. “What can I do for you?”
    “I told Kathy about your building and construction experience. We were wondering if we might barter for your expertise.”
    Anissa’s eyes widened. “That sounds interesting.”
    “I’m going to look at a house this afternoon. I’m in the market for a fixer-upper. I’m from Batavia and don’t know any contractors in the area. Tori thought you might be able to advise me.”
    “And in return?” Anissa asked.
    “We’d cut your grass and maybe take a whack at some of those bushes out front.”
    “Sounds like I’d be getting the better end of the bargain, but I’ll take you up