Crime in the Café. Фиона Грейс

her pedal to the ground, speeding up in the hope she could leave those horrible feelings behind her.

      Soon, Lacey reached the east side of town, the less populated area untouched by the sprawl of stores that spread from north to south and west to center, the area that, according to Carol, Mayor Fletcher was going to change for the worse.

      Just then, Lacey saw the turning that led to the former Sunrise Retirement Home, and took a left turn onto it. The bumpy road sloped upward, and was lined with beech trees so tall they formed a tunnel that cut out the sunlight.

      “That’s not ominous at all…” Lacey said sarcastically. “Not in the slightest.”

      Luckily, the trees soon thinned out, and daylight reached her once more.

      Lacey got her first glimpse of the house nestled into the hillsides. Her interior designer’s mind switched immediately into gear as she assessed the exterior. It was a fairly modern-looking, red-brick, three-story mansion. She guessed it was a 1930s property that had been modernized over the years. The driveway and parking area were made of gray concrete—functional but unsightly. The windows of the manor had thick, plastic white frames—good for keeping out burglars, but a terrible eyesore. It would take more than a few strategically placed shrubs to make the exterior look like a Victorian hunting lodge.

      Not that that was Lacey’s problem to solve. She’d not made any decisions yet regarding Suzy’s offer. She’d wanted to ask Tom for his advice, but he was working late fulfilling a last-minute order of rainbow-frosted cupcakes for the local YMCA’s annual summer extravaganza. She’d also put a message on the thread she shared with her mom and younger sister, and had received a “Don’t work too hard” response from the former, and an “if she’s paying good $$$ then go for it” from the latter.

      Lacey parked her car in the concrete parking lot, then headed up the steps that ran alongside a large, unsightly wheelchair ramp. The disabled access to the property—and presumably, within it—would be a huge plus. Neither Carol’s B&B nor the Coach House Inn were suitable for guests with disabilities, neither having external access from the cobbled streets, and having narrow internal stairs with no elevator inside.

      At the top of the steps, Lacey reached a large glass conservatory-style porch. It was so ’90s it reminded her of a leisure center.

      The doors swished open, and she went inside, where her eyes were assaulted by a huge expanse of linoleum, harsh strip lights overhead, and tacky waiting-room blinds hanging in each of the windows. A water cooler went glug glug glug in the corner beside an array of buzzing vending machines.

      So Suzy had been understating just how much work there was to do.

      “Lacey! Hey!” came the young woman’s chipper voice.

      Lacey peered around and saw her pop up from behind the reception desk—a huge, fake wood monstrosity that appeared to have been molded out of the very fabric of the building.

      “I was just checking out the power socket situation back here,” Suzy explained. “Greg, the events planner, needs to know how many electricity points are available. He’s a total dragon, seriously. If I had more time, I’d hire someone else. But beggars can’t be choosers. So Grumpy Greg it is.” She grinned.

      “What do you need an events planner for?” Lacey asked.

      “The launch party, of course,” Suzy said.

      Before Lacey had a chance to ask her any more about that, Suzy came out from around the big desk and embraced her. It took her by surprise. But in spite of the fact they barely knew one another, Lacey found it felt quite natural. It was as if the young woman was an old friend, even though they’d only first met less than twenty-four hours ago.

      “Can I get you a cup of tea?” Suzy asked. Then she blushed. “Sorry, you’re American. You’ll want coffee instead, right?”

      Lacey chuckled. “I’ve gotten a taste for tea since moving here, actually. But I’m good, thanks.” She was careful not to let her gaze trail over to the vending machine, and the watery, substandard tea it would presumably make. “Shall we do the tour?”

      “Wasting no time, I like that,” Suzy said. “Okay, well obviously this is the reception area.” She opened her arms wide and grinned enthusiastically. “As you can probably tell, it’s basically a conservatory they added on in the nineties. Beyond ripping the whole thing down, I’ve no idea how to make this look like a Victorian lodge, but I guess that’s what your expertise is for. I mean, if you do decide to work for me.” She giggled and gestured toward the set of internal double doors. “This way.”

      They entered a long, dimly lit hallway. A set of shiny plastic signs were screwed into the wall giving directions to the “TV room,” “dining room,” “garden,” and “nurses’ station.” There was a very distinct smell about the place, like talcum powder.

      Lacey wrinkled her nose. The reality of just how much of an undertaking this would be was becoming evident, and Lacey felt a creeping sense that it would just be too much to take on.

      She followed Suzy into the TV room. It was a humongous space, sparsely furnished, and with the same fake wood linoleum on the floor. The walls were covered in textured paper.

      “I’m thinking we’ll turn this room into the drawing room,” Suzy began, waltzing through the room, her patterned gypsy skirt flowing behind her. “I want an open fireplace. I think there’s one boarded up behind this alcove. And we can put some nice rustic antique stuff over in this corner.” She gestured vaguely with her arms. “Or that one. Whichever you prefer.”

      Lacey felt increasingly uncertain. The work Suzy wanted her to do was more than simple interior design! She didn’t even have the layout down. But she seemed to be a dreamer, which Lacey couldn’t help but admire. Throwing oneself into a task without any prior experience was how Lacey rolled, after all, and that risk had paid off for her. But the other side of the coin was that Lacey hadn’t had anyone around to be the voice of reason. Other than her mom and Naomi—who’d been an entire ocean and five-hour time difference away—there had been no one there to tell her she was being crazy. But to actually be that person, watching someone dive into an almost impossible task headfirst … Lacey just wasn’t sure she could do it. She didn’t have the heart to bring someone down to earth with a bump and dash their dreams, but she also wasn’t the type to stand back and watch as the ship sank.

      “The dining room can be accessed through here,” Suzy was saying, in an easy-breezy manner. She quickly led Lacey through to the next room. “We’ll keep this room as the dining room because it has access to the kitchen through there.” She pointed at a swing door to her right. “And it has the best view of the sea here, and the lawns.”

      Lacey couldn’t help but notice that Suzy was already talking as if she was going to take the job. She bit down on her lip with trepidation and paced over to the sliding glass doors that took up the entirety of the far wall. The garden, though several acres, only contained grass and a few sporadically placed benches facing toward the ocean view in the distance.

      “Gina would love this,” Lacey said over her shoulder, searching for a positive.

      “Gina?” Suzy asked.

      “The lady who works at my store with me. Frizzy hair. Red glasses. Wellington boots. She’s an amazing gardener. This would be like a blank canvas for her.” She looked back at Suzy. “She tried to teach me how to garden but I think I’m still way too New York City for plant life.”

      Suzy laughed. “Well, when it’s time to do the garden, I’ll give Gina a call.”

      Suzy continued the speedy tour—through the kitchen, back out to the corridor, along to the elevator and up to one of the bedrooms.

      “They’re very well sized,” Suzy told her, as she gestured Lacey inside.

      “I’ll say,” Lacey replied, calculating just how much furniture would be required to furnish them appropriately.

      They’d need more than just the usual B&B room bed, closet, and bedside tables that most rooms had. They were big