"This house you've got here is old. It's going to need a lot of work. But that's all."
"I know that."
"You start talkin' about ghosts and spirits, you won't ever get a buyer."
"Olive, really, I don't believe in such things."
"Maybe not. But other folks do, especially in these parts. You hear me, girl?"
Kathryn nodded. She knew it was true. Even some of the most sophisticated of the Caribbean islands were home to sects that believed in exotic combinations of Christianity and far older, darker religions.
"I've no intention of going around saying anything about Charon's Crossing." Kathryn smiled. "Except that it's going to make some rich person very, very happy."
It took a second or two before Olive smiled in return.
"Good." She gave Kathryn's hand one last squeeze and then she let go and rose to her feet. "Suppose we go inside now, walk through the place together, and I'll tell you what I think needs
doin'."
Kathryn sighed as she collected the mugs. "What doesn't need doing, you mean."
The house was cool, almost cold compared to the outside heat. "One of the nice things about these old houses," Olive said pleasantly. "They're comfortable even without air conditionin'."
"And a good thing," Kathryn said as she dumped the mugs into the sink. "I'll just bet the electrical system's too old to handle AC."
Olive smiled. "You're probably right. Most everythin's outdated here, I'm afraid."
"Which brings us to the bad news, I guess." Kathryn leaned back against the sink. "What do I have to spend to put the place into saleable condition?"
"Well, startin' right here, in the kitchen, you'll have to have the hot water system checked." Olive walked to the sink and turned on the tap. "Cold," she said, lifting her brows as she dangled her fingers beneath the flow. "Cold as can be, finally workin' up to lukewarm."
"Yeah." Kathryn sighed and folded her arms. "So I noticed. But it's no worse than what I live with, back in my New York apartment."
"Maybe. But lots of these old houses have problems with their heatin' systems. I'm not talkin' about the comfort of a warm bath, you see, I'm talkin' safety. Be sure and ask Hiram to check, okay?"
Kathryn blew out her breath. "I will."
"There's more, I'm afraid."
"I figured that. To tell you the truth, I had no idea the house would be quite this bad. I mean, Amos tried to warn me, but I never dreamed so much would need doing."
"Didn't your father tell you anythin' about Charon's Crossin'?" Olive asked curiously as they walked through the kitchen and into the hallway.
Kathryn tucked her hands into the rear pockets of her shorts.
"My parents were divorced years ago. I didn't have much contact with him after that."
"Ah." The realtor's eyes darkened with sympathy. "I'm sorry to hear it."
"No need to be. It's just a fact of life."
"A sad one, though."
"The house is what's sad. What else needs doing, do you think?" Kathryn reached out a hand and ran it lightly over a wall where what looked like blue silk hung in shreds. "I can't afford to have these walls redone. Considering the size of this place, I don't even know if I can afford to have than painted."
"No need. You want to present a buyer with a structurally sound house. Aesthetics are not the issue."
"I'm delighted to hear it."