Liz picked up her knife and fork, cut a bite of her sandwich and ate it. “Oh, that’s good,” she said. She set down her fork and reached for her coffee. “You know, if the development were to go ahead, I could live in one of the new apartments, eat here whenever I felt like it and never have to lay eyes on one of Avery’s kale frittatas again.”
“Kale is good for you,” I said, putting a forkful of cranberry chutney on top of my sandwich.
“Yes, I’m sure you eat it all the time,” Liz said, raising her eyebrows over the top of her glasses.
“Avery is good for you, too,” I said.
“Point to you,” she said with a smile.
“Would you really sell your house and move into an apartment?” I asked.
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Avery won’t be with me forever, and if you tell Rose this, I’ll smack you with my purse, but I don’t think I’d like Legacy Place any more than she has.”
I made an X on my chest. “Your secret is safe with me.”
We ate without talking for a couple of minutes. Then I thought of something I’d meant to ask Jess. “Liz, isn’t there some way the development could just be built around Lily’s Bakery?”
Liz put down her fork and knife, looked around for our waiter and, when she caught his eye, pointed to her empty coffee cup. “You’re not the first person to think of that, and no, it can’t. You see, the basements of the buildings on either side are connected to the basement of the bakery. At least they were when the buildings on that whole end of the street were constructed. There are fire doors between each one, but they’re connected.”
I frowned at her. “Connected? How?”
“From the bakery and the bookstore right on down to that old building that belongs to Eamon Kennedy, at one time the basement was all just a big common dirt cellar for storage. Rumor has it that space was part of the underground railway at one point.”
“I had no idea,” I said.
Liz shrugged. “Most people don’t, but my first husband was a bit of a history buff. I’ve crawled around just about every old building in town. Frankly, I think it’s a part of North Harbor history we should talk more about.”
I tried to imagine Liz in her high heels and perfect manicure crawling around the dirt-floor basement of some old building. The mental image made me smile, and I bent my head over my plate.
“Never mind grinning, missy,” Liz said tartly as though she’d just read my mind. “Just because I clean up well doesn’t mean I can’t get down and dirty.”
I lifted my head and smiled at her. “I’ll remember that,” I said. I took another sip of my wine. “If the basements are all closed off now, why couldn’t the developer just tear down the other buildings and leave the bakery?”
The waiter came with more coffee. Liz added cream to hers and stirred before she answered. “I’m no structural engineer, but as I understand it, it has to do with the integrity of the common outside stone walls. Basically, if the other basement walls are taken down, Lily’s will collapse as well, like a row of dominoes. Without her property, Jon West can’t get a building permit to tear down the buildings around the bakery.”
She picked up her cup. “There was some talk about just working around the bakery anyway, but since the engineer’s report details the possible damage to the building if they go ahead, Lily would be able to sue, well, practically everyone if her basement collapsed. She could keep the whole project tied up in court for years.”
“No wonder there’s so much animosity toward her,” I said, skewering a chunk of turkey and swirling it through a puddle of gravy on my plate.
“You heard about the—I don’t know whether to call them ‘pranks’ or ‘vandalism,’” Liz said.
I nodded. “I didn’t just hear. I saw.”
Liz frowned at me. “What do you mean ‘saw’?”
“I stopped in for coffee. It looked as though someone had hurled about a dozen eggs at the front window.”
“What’s the world coming to?” Liz asked, shaking her head. She tried the apple carrot salad and gave a murmur of approval. “That kind of childish behavior isn’t going to fix anything.”
I couldn’t help playing devil’s advocate. “I know,” I said, nodding my agreement, “but when some people get frustrated, they also get stupid.”
“Stupid is as stupid does,” Liz retorted, pushing up her glasses with one finger. “I’m frustrated with the whole situation, but you don’t see me sneaking around in the middle of the night toilet papering the bakery.”
“Someone toilet papered the bakery?” I said, my fork paused in midair.
Liz made a dismissive gesture with one hand. “No, no, no. I was just trying to make a point about how ill-advised some people’s behavior can be. The Emmerson Foundation holds the mortgages on two of the buildings that would be coming down for the development. Both of them are in default, and I don’t see the owners coming up with the money anytime soon. If the North Landing project falls through, the foundation will be out more than a million dollars. That’s money that was earmarked for upgrades to the Sunshine Camp.”
I leaned against the back of the booth. “Oh, Liz, I had no idea that much money was involved.”
“Well, it isn’t exactly something I’ve been trumpeting all over town.” She twisted her gold wristwatch around her arm. “I did do something that in retrospect was ill-advised, though.”
“What was it?” I asked, crossing my fingers figuratively if not literally that I wasn’t going to have to call on Josh Evans’s legal skills once I heard her confession.
Liz sighed. “When I said a couple of people talked to Caroline, well, I was one of them.”
“Oh, Liz,” I said softly.
She waved a hand at me. “I know. It was a stupid idea, trying to get to Lily through her mother. Caroline was nice about it, nicer than I probably would have been in the same position.”
I pulled my hands through my hair, gathered it all at the nape of my neck and let it fall on my shoulders again. It had been a long day and I was getting tired.
“What time were you at the store this morning?” Liz asked, clearly trying to change the subject away from Lily and the waterfront development.
“Oh-dark-thirty,” I said.
One well-groomed eyebrow went up, but Liz didn’t say anything.
“I’m still sanding paint off that old dresser, and I wanted to put the last coat of clear wax on the chair I’ve been working on so Mac can take it down to Jess. She’s going to reupholster it for me.”
“And did you?”
I nodded, reaching for my wineglass.
“Good,” Liz said. “Then there’s no reason to get up with the chickens tomorrow morning.”
“Except I have to pick up five dozen rolls for the hot-lunch program at the school first thing in the morning.” I held up a finger. “Remind Avery that I’m picking her up early, too. She’s going to help at the school, since she doesn’t have any classes herself tomorrow.”
“I’ll remind her,” Liz said. “When you consider what tuition costs at that private school of hers, you’d think they’d be in classes a little more often.”
I didn’t say anything. I just looked at her across the table.
She set her cup down. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to make a speech about how in my day I walked four miles to school barefoot through six feet of snow, uphill both ways.”
“I thought it was five miles,” I said, raising an eyebrow at her.
Liz grinned. “Maybe if I’m lucky Avery won’t have time to make me one of those hideous green-juice concoctions for my breakfast.” Her blue eyes narrowed, she tipped her head to one side and looked thoughtfully at me.
I shook my head. “Don’t even think about sending that child out to my car with some kind of organic kale smoothie,” I warned, “or Rose won’t be the only one you’ll have to watch around your pillows!”