Chapter 3
Canton, MO
Jesse was busy scribbling a list of to-do items on the back of a cocktail napkin when the knock on the front door disturbed the heavy silence.
She wanted to ignore the interruption. After arriving in Canton yesterday, she’d spent her time pulling down the layers of plywood that protected the windows and doors of the Tap Room, followed by a quick inspection that had revealed a growing list of headaches waiting for her.
Thankfully, she’d had the smarts to have the electricity and water turned on before she arrived.
It not only meant she could run the air conditioner to combat the oppressive heat and enjoy a hot shower this morning, but it’d revealed the less than obvious problems that needed to be fixed.
Broken windows, flickering lights, leaking pipes, and a layer of mildew in the cellar that had to be inspected.
Thankfully, she didn’t need proof of his death to sell the Tap Room.
Unlike her father’s savings account and his life insurance policy, the deed to the property had been transferred to her only days after Victoria’s disappearance, and Jesse hadn’t argued.
They both understood there was a chance Mac was going to be arrested no matter how innocent he might be.
At the time, she never dreamed he might have another purpose in handing over his beloved business.
But while there was no legal reason she couldn’t put the place up for sale, what was the point? The buyers were going to lowball the offers because it was a mess. Why not put in some hard work and try to get top dollar?
There was another knock. This one more insistent.
Dropping the pencil on the bar, Jesse gave into the inevitable.
Whoever was out there was clearly determined.
And besides, she needed a break before she went to pick up some cleaning supplies, along with a few groceries to tide her over for the next week or so.
Pulling open the door, she frowned at the stranger who was standing there.
The woman was wearing a tailored black jacket with a silk shirt and knee-length black skirt.
Her shoes were sky-high designer heels and her bleached-blond hair was pulled into an elegant knot at the back of her head.
Her makeup was heavy, as if she was covering up a spotty complexion.
Or perhaps she was trying to look older than her twenty-odd years.
But it was still muted enough not to distract from her image of an elegant, successful businesswoman.
“Jesse Hudson?” she asked with a practiced smile.
“Yes?”
“Hi, I’m Reese Skylar.” She paused, as if expecting Jesse to recognize her. “I work for Johnson Real Estate Agency.”
“Oh.” Jesse tried to place the woman and failed. Not surprising. Reese had probably still been in school when Jesse left Canton. “Did Walter retire?”
“No, but he prefers to stay in the office these days. He hired me to take care of the legwork.” She reached into the satchel draped over her shoulder to pull out a glossy brochure and handed it to Jesse.
The front flap was dominated by Walter Johnson, posed in front of his office, smiling with smug satisfaction.
His silver hair was professionally styled and he was wearing an expensive suit, as if his business was booming. No wonder he could stay in the office.
At the bottom of the brochure was a smaller headshot of Reese Skylar, with the title ASSOCIATE brOKER typed under it. Whatever that meant.
Jesse glanced up, oddly reluctant to let the woman over the threshold.
“I know I called the office about selling the Tap Room, but I think I underestimated how much work was going to have to be done before it’s ready to be put on the market.
I just got the water and electricity turned on.
I still need to do several repairs and get it cleaned. It’s going to take a while.”
“No worries.” Reese flashed a smile, revealing teeth that were too perfect and too white to be real.
Veneers for sure. For some reason, they reminded Jesse of the Big Bad Wolf.
The better to eat you with, my dear. “I wanted to stop by and introduce myself. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to get a few measurements just to get the ball rolling while I’m here?
I’ll come back later to take pictures and discuss my ideas on how to get the most for your property. ”
Jesse squashed her weird hesitation, forcing herself to step back. “Sure. Come in.”
“Great. You won’t be sorry you put your trust in us.”
The woman slid past her, reaching into her satchel to pull out a tape measure and a small notebook. Jesse swallowed a sigh and stepped out of the building, leaving the woman to her task.
She groaned as the heat instantly wrapped around her, as heavy as a wet blanket.
The late afternoon sun was obscured behind a layer of gray clouds, but that did nothing to ease the humidity.
In fact, it only made things worse. As if the moisture from the clouds was being squeezed into the thick air.
Moving to the center of the cracked sidewalk, Jesse turned back toward the red brick building and glanced up.
Long ago, there’d been fancy molding around the windows as well as along the edge of the flat roof, but they’d rotted away.
And the letters that spelled out HUDSON MERCANTILE over the door had faded until they were barely visible.
Still, there was a sturdy resilience in the structure that couldn’t be duplicated by the cheap buildings that were slapped together these days.
Not to mention a rich history that had anchored her family to this tiny spot on the vast expanse of the earth.
She was connected to this place in a way that went way beyond the physical.
Was that why she hated the thought of Reese with the too white teeth strolling around the space with her measuring tape? Because this place was in the blood that flowed through her veins. In her very soul?
“Jesse Hudson.” A female voice broke into Jesse’s unsettling thoughts. “As I live and breathe.”
Turning her head, Jesse discovered Bea stepping out the front door of her diner, a smile of pleasure curving her lips.
Happiness flooded through Jesse. Her friend hadn’t changed. Oh, there were a few more strands of gray in her reddish hair, and some extra lines on her face, but she was wearing the same headband and the same sundress streaked with flour.
“Hello, Bea.”
The older woman spread her arms. “You get your skinny butt over here and give me a hug.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Without hesitation, Jesse closed the short distance to be enveloped in Bea’s hug. She smelled of fried chicken, lemon pie, and home.
“I’ve missed you, honey,” Bea murmured. “This place hasn’t been the same without that face of yours.”
Jesse closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of being squeezed tight against the solid form. Bea used to say that she knew God had a sense of humor because he made her look like the cliché of a farmer’s wife without her ever stepping foot on a farm or being a wife.
“I’ve missed you too,” Jesse admitted.
“Hmm.” Bea leaned back. “Is that why you ignored my calls?”
“Yeah … I know. I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t you. I ignored a lot of things. I guess I needed a break from this place.”
Bea pressed her lips together. “No, don’t mind me. I’m the one who’s sorry,” she admitted. “It’s been a tough time. I understand you wanting to put it all behind you.”
“Maybe. But I should have called.”
“Well, you’re back now.” Bea gave her another smothering hug before stepping back. “Everything is right with the world again.”
“Actually …” Jesse hesitated, feeling an odd pang of guilt for disappointing the older woman. “I’m not back for long.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m only here to get the Tap Room cleaned up so I can put it on the market.”
“On the market? You’re selling your dad’s bar?”
Jesse flinched at the sharp, accusing edge in Bea’s tone. “Technically, it belongs to me.”
“Yes, yes. Of course it belongs to you. But it’s been in your family from the beginning.” Bea knotted her hands together, genuinely distressed. “It won’t seem right to have someone else running it.”
“I can’t leave it boarded up forever, Bea.
It’s already starting to fall apart. It needs someone who has the commitment—not to mention the money—to get it back to its glory days.
” Jesse bit her bottom lip, abruptly realizing that her vision for the future of the Tap Room wasn’t guaranteed.
It was just as likely someone would buy the property to tear down the aging building and put up a laundromat. “At least, that’s what I’m hoping for.”
“Yes, well … I suppose you’re right. Time moves on. Whether we want it to or not.” Bea heaved a deep sigh, her expression suddenly somber. “Does this mean you haven’t heard from Mac?”
The unexpected question scraped against Jesse’s raw nerves. “No. Nothing.”
“I was afraid of that. Still.” Another sad sigh. “I hoped. I will always hope.”
“I can’t afford to do that. Not anymore.” Jesse caught the glimpse of movement, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Reese stepping out of the Tap Room, pausing to give her a small wave before heading down the sidewalk with a brisk stride. Time to get to the store. “I’ll see you later, Bea.”
Refusing to dwell on her friend’s crestfallen expression at the knowledge the Tap Room would no longer be in the Hudson family, Jesse headed around the corner to where she’d parked her dad’s old truck.
She’d tried to stay and run the bar after her father disappeared.
For six long months she’d gone through the motions of living in a weird limbo as she tried to convince herself that Mac was alive and that he was going to walk through the door any minute.
But eventually she had to concede defeat.