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it. Lackluster eyes revealed signs of desperation and despair. Tappe had never seen her so out of sorts. She reminded him of a weary, abandoned dog drying out from a trek in a rainstorm.
    “Tappe?” She rose from her chair and spoke, her voice with a sharp edge to it. “I’m surprised to see you here. I heard you bought the marina. You should have come to our office first. We would have helped you, and we certainly could have used the commission.”
    Tappe set the cappuccino down on her desk and dropped into a seat in front of it. “Actually, I was still traveling here in the States as well as abroad. Dad handled the sale. Privately. Like the owner requested.” He studied her and suspicions crowded into his thoughts. Her face was thin and drawn, and she looked nervous and strung-out. “So how are you doing? I was sorry to hear about your aunt.”
    Violet snorted out a soft disdainful sound. “Hah, the old biddy left us the house and a heap of old junk, and an insurance policy guaranteed to be gobbled up by taxes.” She sat and fiddled with a pen on her desk. “And Kate has no interest in selling.”
    “But you do?” He noticed how she tried to quell her trembling hands by playing with the pen. Her ragged-looking nails had half the polish bitten off. Her lips, chapped and devoid of lipstick, looked as if she had chewed on them as well. Something was not right.
    “Of course. Haven’t you heard? My husband flew the coop?” There was bridled anger in her voice now. Her lower lip trembled. “Donald took what he considered his half…and more.” She sniffed and reached for a Kleenex.
    “I’m sorry to hear it,” Tappe admitted. He had known Violet all his life. Unlike Kate, she was always impulsive and had a track record of making poor decisions—in life, with men, and with financial situations.
    “Then you’re one of the first to feel sorry. I’m sure everyone in town thinks I got what I deserved.” She dabbed at her eyes and lifted the lid on the cappuccino, allowing the steam to escape, but she didn’t take a drink.
    “Without being presumptuous, can you handle the debt?” he asked.
    “Are you kidding? With back mortgage payments, utilities, car payments and other Donald Meyers bills about town, I owe a good $35,000 or more. If Kate sells the house, I could get my head above water. I’m about to file for a divorce as soon as I can scrape up enough money for a lawyer. Donald wants an additional $15,000 or he won’t sign for me to keep the condo.”
    “Did you try to get a loan?” Tappe took a sip of coffee, regarding her over the lip of the cup.
    “With Donald’s credit and a string of outstanding bills around town? Yeah, loaning me money would be right up a bank’s alley.” There was no mistaking her sarcastic anger. “I’ll bet my deadbeat husband tanked our credit score right down to rock bottom.”
    “Does Kate know about this?”
    “Even if she suspects it, she doesn’t care. She never liked Donald. Anyway, my life is not her problem. She’s just being Kate. Selfish and self-centered.” She stabbed an accusing finger in the air. “And stubborn!”
    Tappe forced himself to suppress an angry retort. The Kate he knew was the least selfish person in all of Little Heron Shores. Like her Aunt Kay, Kate would open her heart and wallet and give anyone her last dollar. According to his father, everyone around town would rather shine a bushel of apples than take a shine to Donald Meyers whom they considered a loser.
    A plan began to swirl around in his head. “What if I said I could loan you the money?”
    Startled, Violet took a quick breath and sat up straighter in her chair. “Why? Why would you do that?”
    “We grew up together, Violet.” He offered her a sympathetic look. “And to be honest, I’m looking for land. I’ve always liked the properties out by our old homesteads. If you come to a mutual agreement where you and Kate may consider selling, I’d like both of you to allow