Poisoned by Gilt (40 page)

You've got bad pipes. You'll have to replace them all."

Sullivan and I exchanged puzzled glances. Contaminants could be removed with filters, which would be

much easier and less expensive than replacing the

pipes. We needed to wait until Angie left to tell Henry

that, though; my hunch was that otherwise, Angie

would find some arcane ruling that prohibited water

filtering.

"Our pipes are copper, not lead!" Henry shouted.

"Must be the solder in all the joints," she said with a

shrug. "Or else maybe they're copper-coated lead

pipes."

"Oh, come off it!" Henry shouted. "You're making

this stuff up, and we both know it! Now, what's it going to take to get you to give the water here a passing

grade?"

"Are you offering me a bribe, Mr. Goodwin?"

"No, I'm just--"

"Good, because that would be a federal crime, and

you're in enough trouble already. What with your lead

contaminants and your faulty front steps."

"Front steps?"

She gave him a sly grin. "I must have forgotten

to tell you. They're too steep for a business . . . and particularly for a business that's going to have geriatrics

and little children going up and down them all the

time."

"Toddlers and geriatric guests can use the back door

and our handicap access."

"Or you can follow the law and rebuild them to

meet the city codes, so they can use your front steps."

"Angie!" Mikara cried. "Quit busting Henry's chops!"

She glowered at Mikara. "Hey, sis. You know, it's

like what you said to me when you left the house this

morning: 'I'm just trying to do my job.'" She used a

lilting voice and fluttered her eyes derisively, mocking

her sister.

"You're being a brat, Angela!" Mikara stomped her

foot.

"And you're being a weasel!" Angie shot her sister a

furious glare, then softened her expression slightly and

said to Henry, "The bottom line is, there are unacceptable levels of lead in the water supply. Fix it, or else

you're not going to be able to convert this place into a

bed and breakfast."

"But we're opening on Christmas Eve! In three

weeks!"

"Then you'd better get the lead out, hadn't you," she

said. "Plus, have the entire concrete stoop demolished

and rebuilt to code." She tore off a pink copy from her

clipboard and handed it to him. "Here's your official

notice. Pity your violations will probably delay your

opening. But take heart, Mayor Goodwin. There's always next Christmas."

She strode toward the front door, glanced back over

her shoulder, and said with a haughty smile, "Good

seeing you, Henry."

"Be real careful on the steps," he snarled. "We

wouldn't want you to fall and crack your head open."

Sullivan and I exchanged glances.