Page 1 of Safe in Shadow (Pine Ridge Universe #22)

“ F ifty thousand? Why is it so cheap?”

Mr. Silverman, the bank manager at Silverman First Fiduciary of Pine Ridge, gave his client a shrug.

“I’d guess because the county wants it off their hands before they have to pay the demolition costs.

I know if something doesn’t happen soon, that house will be nothing but rubble.

It’s already halfway there. You have seen it, right? ”

Grace Sanderson nodded her head, tangled dandelion yellow hair bobbing stubbornly around a petite and somewhat pointed chin.

“I’ve driven past it every week for the last six years.

I live about an hour past Pine Ridge, but I’ve been getting my business degree and hospitality management certificate from Antonia College.

I can only go part-time. I mean, I could until last year.

” Grace blinked suddenly and set her shoulders back hard.

She wasn’t burdened anymore—that’s what her parents would say—but they’d never had a good relationship with Nana.

“Ah. And you’ve recently graduated?”

“Yes. I took longer than I planned, but I—I took a year off to care for my grandmother. She’s the one who left me this money.

But... I wasn’t expecting to be able to afford Hilltop House.

I know it’s a mess, but I thought it would go for a couple of million.

Are you... Are you sure it’s only fifty grand? ”

Mr. Silverman smiled. “I think the expected level of refurbishment would push you into the millions. Knowing that, the county set a bargain-basement price and is selling it as is. If you don’t buy it, it’s going to be put up for a sheriff’s sale next month.

If that doesn’t work, it’ll be the wrecking ball.

In my opinion, it’s about time. It’s been for sale to the public for the last twenty years or so.

It was going to be the new historical society for Broome County.

Then, it was going to be the Binghamton Genealogical Society Annex.

I believe a land developer tried to buy it last year, but his investors pulled out when they found out how far it was from the interstate.

” Mr. Silverman leaned forward. “If you’ll pardon me for speaking my mind, Miss Sanderson, it’s a bad buy. ”

Grace inhaled, nostrils white at the edges with a sudden rush of furious air.

Mr. Silverman, kindly and honestly or not, had just touched two very raw nerves. Her parents, still sore at their eldest daughter for getting the bulk of Nana’s inheritance, had told her that buying Hilltop was a fool’s errand.

And then they’d said it was the kind of stupid, cockamamie dream Nana would have had, which meant no businessman or banker would ever support it.

“I have ten thousand dollars, that’s it. That’s what I can put down. That’s more than ten percent. How do I get the lights and water working?”

Mr. Silverman winced a little and started typing on his computer. “Well, Miss Sanderson, we’ll find out.”

“ARE YOU MOVING OUT , Kate?”

“It’s Grace, Mrs. Yerchenko. Kate is my mom.” Unless she officially disowns me when she and Dad get back from their “we didn’t get the big money, but at least we can live it up in Hawaii” cruise .

“Ohhh. You look so much like your mother.” Mrs. Yerchenko carried her reusable shopping bags on the frame of her walker and tottered her way past Grace as she steered a loaded handcart toward the elevator.

“It was nice to have a young person living here. I don’t think any of my grandchildren would have stayed in this old folks’ home. ”

“Now, come on. You know this place is like a swinging singles’ pad. No one’s married, and all the men are on Viagra.” Grace winked and forced a smile. Inside, she was crying.

Nana was strength and sunlight. Her little apartment in the retirement community felt more like home than any other place Grace had ever lived.

Nana knew that, too. She and Grace were sixty years apart, but they were best friends, kindred spirits, and the gossip queens of the third floor.

When Nana broke her hip and wrist the month before Grace was about to start college at Syracuse, her parents had said there was nothing to do except put Nana in a nursing home.

After all, her father had sighed, “Once they break a hip, they probably have a year left.”

To which Grace had elegantly replied, “Fuck that noise,” applied to Antonia College, gotten a commuter’s pass for her third-hand baby blue SUV, and moved into Nana’s tiny sitting room.

She lived on campus during the week and drove “home” on Wednesdays and the weekends.

With constant care and a grandchild to live for, Nana had made a full recovery.

But age wins, eventually.

Still. Six years was better than one.

“ Six years left. Screw you,” Grace muttered to the imaginary parents in her head, parents sipping mai tais and wearing bad floral shirts as they frittered away all the money Nana and G-Pop had earned during their fifty-three-year marriage.

“You okay?” Mrs. Yerchenko paused at her door, letting Muffet and Moppet streak past into the hall.

Grace put down the handcart and herded the two skinny cats back inside. “I’m still pissed at my parents.”

“Oh, honey. They were just jealous. You were Valerie’s favorite, you know.”

“I was her best friend. It’s different than being her favorite.”

“You were both. She told me. You really loved her and loved what she stood for. She told me when she was younger that she wanted to open a swanky restaurant in the big city, one with a view. Is that what you’re going to do?”

“No. There’s less money in food service than there is in hotels, actually.

I’m running a bed-and-breakfast that will cater to the rich leaf peepers and mountain-loving yuppies.

The costs are pretty much set, and I can do breakfast food.

I can scramble eggs and fry up bacon, but God help me if I have to make a steak or some sort of fish. ”

“Valerie said you’d better find a skinny man. He won’t marry you for your cooking.”

“Hey, I can learn to cook. But if you could live with Nana and have her making you spaghetti and meatballs every Saturday and homemade chicken pot pie every Sunday, would you bother to learn?”

The other woman shook her head, wrinkled face crinkling in a knowing smile. “No, I wouldn’t!”

“Hey, this fall, when I have the place up and running, I’ll come and get you. We’ll have a third-floor girls’ reunion! And I’ll be coming back every weekend or so.”

“What? All that way?”

“Gotta see my girls.” Grace winked and hugged Mrs. Yerchenko tightly as her frail frame would stand.