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The Homewreckers(145)

Author:Mary Kay Andrews

“Did you confront Trae about it?”

“As soon as I got here. He denies everything, but we both know what a liar he is. I mean, who else knows that much about the big, ugly skeleton in my family closet?”

Cass tapped her forehead with her forefinger. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe someone who’s lived in Savannah their whole life? Someone with a festering grudge against you? Who probably even called the code enforcement cops on us, and then threw the whole sins-of-the-father thing right in your face—to your face? Who’d love to slime you, just for the sport of it?”

“Oh. Oh my God,” Hattie said. “I bet you’re right. I bet it was Mavis Creedmore. Oh damn, damn, damn. This one time, Trae was actually telling the truth.”

“Which means that probably none of this was Mo’s fault,” Cass concluded.

“I’m an idiot,” Hattie said.

“Took the words right out of my mouth. Now what are you going to do about it?”

“I can’t do anything about it right now,” Hattie said. She pointed at the gleaming white Mercedes SL convertible that had followed in the wake of the moving van. The driver parked near the porch. “There’s Carolyn Meyers now,” Hattie said. “Show time.”

66

The Price Is Right

Carolyn Meyers removed her sling-back pumps and left them at the front door. She was wearing white silk pants and a black halter top that showed her sinewy tanned arms, with Gucci sunglasses tucked into her pale blond hair. “Wait,” she said, stepping back to shoot a photo of the door itself. “I want to have it photographed professionally by our in-house guy, but I can use these to give him a shot list. Hattie, I can’t believe it’s the same house.”

“Me neither,” Hattie said, opening the door to allow the real estate agent to step inside.

“We put the paper down so the movers don’t mess up the floors we just refinished.”

“Good,” Carolyn said. “All original hardwoods, up and down?”

“Yes,” Hattie said.

“Was that the furniture in the moving van that just pulled up?”

“I certainly hope so. Trae, our designer, has been having a fit because the network moved up our deadline by a week. He’s not sure all the furniture he ordered will be in on time.”

The agent frowned. “It’s going to show much better with furniture, so maybe we wait to have the house shot until you’ve got it styled and staged.”

* * *

“Well, it’s just stunning,” Carolyn said, when the tour was over. They were standing in the kitchen, which, Hattie would never admit out loud, had undergone the biggest transformation. “You’ve done a magnificent job here. It’s crisp, it’s classic, it’s the house equivalent of a good white dress shirt that will never go out of style. This kitchen is the chef’s kiss. I mean, that floor is to die for.”

“Trae’s idea and Trae’s handiwork,” Hattie said. “So, bottom line, what do you think we can list it for?”

Carolyn pulled a large folder from her handbag, and withdrew a computer printout. “Here are the comps I pulled. Lucky for you, there’s not that much competition for a waterfront house on the island right now. Liz Demos’s house is a couple months away from completion still, but it got listed for $1.2 million, and she’s already accepted an offer.”

Hattie’s eyes widened. “And that house doesn’t even have a dock like ours. The dock house will be done today, and then it’s really going to be spectacular.”

Carolyn sighed and pointed out the window. “Liz’s house also doesn’t have a body that was buried in the backyard. I’m not going to soft-soap it, Hattie. This thing with Lanier Ragan has gotten a ton of publicity, and I’m afraid it’s going to scare off a lot of potential buyers. People don’t like the idea of having a crypt on their property.”

“I get it,” Hattie said. She’d been anticipating something like this, but hearing her real estate agent say it, out loud, was a gut punch. “But this is a much bigger lot. And the house…”

“Is one of a kind. You’ve done an amazing job with it, as always. I just want you to be prepared for buyer reluctance. Under other circumstances, I’m confident that the house would easily appraise at $1.4 million.”

“But at this time?”

Carolyn fiddled with the thin gold necklace dangling in her cleavage. “I think we get aggressive and list it at $890,000, but be prepared to negotiate down.”