“It looks just like it did on the last day of business.” Rose stood in the middle of the space. The shop was large with dozens of booths and a long counter in the back. As they walked through, they didn’t notice any major problems.
The black-and-white tile floor was in good condition. The countertop looked intact under the thick layer of dust. Even the booths seemed to only have minor wear. And the view was fantastic.
“I’ll call my cleaning lady. She can come tonight and get this place spic and span for tomorrow.” Rose whipped out her phone.
“Thanks. I appreciate that.” Jules walked along the booths toward the kitchen. “I wonder if the equipment still works. That would be important. How long has this place been shut down?”
Rose pressed her lips together. “Oh, about five years. They held out for a very long time. But as you can see, it’s set up for a high volume of donuts. Back before the highway moved, we would have dozens of people come here. It was one of the attractions, and they would make fresh donuts of all different flavors. But when the highway moved and the tourist trade diminished, there really wasn’t enough demand for donuts with just our locals. Ellie held out for as long as she could, but she eventually had to shut down.”
The kitchen, though dusty, was gleaming in stainless steel equipment, commercial ovens, refrigerators, and stainless steel worktables. Jules opened one of the refrigerators, and the light came on.
“It still has electricity.” She was surprised.
“Ellie kept the electricity on. It doesn’t cost much with nobody using the place, and she always said she wanted to be ready to open at a moment’s notice, just in case the tourists came back.”
Jules looked around, mentally assessing the work that needed to be done. If the cleaning lady came in that night, she would be able to show it to Marilyn tomorrow.
“What’s going on in there?” A vaguely familiar voice sounded outside.
Jules recognized the crotchety tone. It was Nick’s grandfather.
Rose recognized it, too, apparently. She pressed her lips together and glanced out the window. “It’s Henry.”
Rose opened the door. “Hello, Henry. Nice to see you.”
Henry scowled. “You, too, Rose. What’s going on?”
“TheNew England Baking Contestis considering Shell Cove for their next show. I’m surprised you haven’t heard. It’s all over town.”
“I haven’t,” Henry grouched. “What’s that got to do with the doughnut factory?”
Jules could have sworn Henry was avoiding looking at her.
“This is where it will be hosted. It’s perfect, and it could be very good for the town. It could bring a lot of tourists and get our name out there again,” Rose said. “It could be good for the bank too.”
“Harrumph. We’ll see if that happens.” Henry didn’t sound optimistic.
“You remember Jules.” Rose motioned toward Jules. “She applied for a loan for the Beachcomber Motel.”
Henry looked at her then. She was expecting to see contempt because clearly the guy didn’t like her, but instead, she saw a vulnerability that surprised her and a bit of sadness.
She bit back her sarcastic comment. “Nice to see you again.”
He nodded a greeting. “The Beachcomber is in bad shape. A loan might not be a good investment for the bank.”
Jules folded her arms over her chest. “So I’ve heard.”
Henry stared at her, his sour expression turning soft. “But don’t judge my grandson too harshly. Sometimes things may be out of his control.”
Jules faltered. What was the old guy saying? That it wasn’t Nick’s fault about the loan? But still, he’d lied to her about the inspection. That was his fault.
“Now, Henry, you know that motel is important for the town. If the baking show comes, it could change everything, then the motel would be a very good investment. You used to be a big champion for the town,” Rose said.
“There are a lot of things that used to be. Those things are in the past.” Henry looked them up and down “Good day.” With a backward glance at the building, he shuffled off toward the parking lot.
Jules turned to Rose. “What was that about?”
“A long time ago, Henry was a nice guy. He was fun. But when his wife died, he hardened. It was to be expected for a while. He was grieving.”
