For the next thirty minutes, the two talked back and forth as Kate regaled her companion with the various stories she'd searched about the myths and legends of that section of the Central Coast, from Bigfoot to the Dark Watchers. It was pleasant and exciting. They'd made an early start so were able to stop several times for eats and drinks or for the simple pleasure of stopping. By 11:00 am, after a few missed turns and some backtracking, they made it to the appointed place.

"This can't be right," she said as Eli pulled the truck down a long gravel drive into a broad meadow. "Otto's property doesn't have any buildings on it."

Ahead was large, handsome structure that appeared to be some sort of barn or rustic workshop. A few other smaller items were about, including a what appeared to be a tool shed and a large water cistern on a nearby hillside. The area immediately around the structure was clear and relatively well manicured. A tall woman in her mid-fifties leaning against a brown SUV stood and began walking toward them as they arrived. Kate rolled down the window.

"Mrs. Caitlyn?" the woman asked politely.

"I am ... Ms. Munson? Is this the right place?"

"It is, and you're right on time. I appreciate the punctuality. I know you've had a long trip."

Eli shut off the vehicle, and Kate stepped out and, after introducing the two, asked a confused question of the realtor. "I'm pretty certain Otto said there were no buildings on the property. Are you sure this is right?"

"Oh, miss, that's what I was trying to explain on the phone. I didn't work this listing originally, but it's one of the more complicated I've seen." She chuckled. "Lemme show you around, and I'll try to explain."

They moved toward the building that, on entering, Kate recognized immediately as being a small barn for stabling horses, one that seemed newly renovated and well cared-for. The realtor continued speaking,

"My old employer, Ann Wasco, originally marketed this place for your husband. She's since passed, and I've been puzzling over her notes. This used to be an old barn dating back to, oh, I don't know ... the 1920s or '30s. It wasn't of much account when your husband took over the property. Ann figured whoever bought the place after him would tear it down or maybe try and salvage the wood, but that fella I was telling you about, Simmons, the one who signed a contract to purchase, he convinced your late husband to let him come in and make some improvements before closing."

As they walked and talked, Kate noticed Eli began to drift away, and, out of nowhere, her friend produced a measuring tape and a small pad of paper upon which he was soon taking notes. He appeared oblivious to the conversation.

"It ends up," said the realtor, "Simmons, made a lot of improvements to the property in the eighteen months before closing. More important, he purchased an easement, because the property was landlocked ... it didn't have direct access to a public road. In fact, the purchase contract was conditioned on his getting that easement, which is why the closing period was so long. Anyway, right before closing, Simmons' business went sour, and his partners accused him of using company funds to do the renovations out here." The older woman scratched her head and laughed again. "The agreement to buy this place pretty much fell through after that."

"Why was this easement an issue?"

"Oh, miss, that's awkward and complicated. A man named Ted Phelps owns all the property around you, bought it up a piece at a time over the last twenty-five or so years. In fact, he owns most the property from here down to the river. I've known Ted for ... well, since we were kids. He can be a bit ... I don't know the right word. Single-minded is the politest thing I can think to call him. Ted wanted this little plot of yours, too, but the man who owned it before your husband didn't like Ted, and Ted didn't like him. The way Ted tells it, your husband bought this property right out from under him. Truth is I don't think the previous owner would've sold it to Ted Phelps for any price."

"To make a long story short," the woman went on, "the previous owner was on good terms with the people who used to own that driveway you came in on, so he never felt the need to get anything on paper. When Ted bought those folks out, he wasn't so accommodating, and without an easement across Ted's property, this property wasn't worth much." The agent hesitated as if finding the right words. "Now, I don't know if your husband knew that when he bought this place, but either way, Ted wouldn't sell him an easement, partly out of spite, I reckon, but mostly 'cause he thought your husband would eventually sell to him for a song."

The woman smiled and toed the ground before continuing.

"I don't know what Simmons said or did to change Ted's mind, but you have an easement now. And you might want to check with a lawyer, but I'm pretty certain it runs with the land, so you can assure future buyers they don't have to worry about access."

"How does the easement affect the bottom line?" Kate asked.

"Well," Leona sighed. "You've got just over a hundred and seven acres, there's a small spring on the property ... which hereabouts is a big selling point ... and you have the building here, which is livable, by the way." Leona Munson led her through a set of wide doors. "There's an apartment with it, a little fancier than the kind a caretaker might use. I think Simmons had the idea this would be his weekend getaway. It's tied into the electrical grid now, has a new thirty-thousand-gallon cistern out back, and he put in a well and a septic system." The tall woman laughed again. "He put a lot of energy and money into this place."

"And if you're worried that might come back to bite you later," the tall woman added, "the last thing your husband did with this property was to negotiate an agreement with Simmons and his partners not to seek any recoupment in exchange for a release of the earnest money. I don't think they would have had much of a case, but it was shrewd of your husband. It kept everyone out of court. But the thing is, I'm not sure your husband fully appreciated how much all these improvements and the easement affected the land value. He and Ann were supposed to talk about that a time or two in the six months or so before she passed away, but never got to it."

Kate laughed and shook her head. Leona was a talker, but she found it charming. And the story was just perfect, a microcosm of Kate's married life.

"You just described Otto to a tee," Kate said. "I think I'm starting to get a sense of what you're saying." She truly did. Whoever had renovated the building had turned it into a small vacation retreat for a horse-lover, with a six-stall barn and rustic apartment with fireplace just off the tack room. The countryside was unbelievably green and beautiful, more beautiful than Kate could have imagined. Her eyes were not exactly in the shape of dollar signs, but .... "So, back to the bottom line."

"It depends entirely on how you market it." Leona clapped her hands together. "There's enough space to run a small horse farm. It already has everything needed except for pasture fences and a corral. There's about thirty acres of grass in the central meadow here. If you tried to market the place as a potential vineyard, that might be a harder sell. Most of the property is still just wood and scrub. And you could market it for what Mr. Simmons had in mind, as a weekend getaway for a wealthy hipster." The woman paused with two fingers on her lips, as if in thought. "You want a professional appraisal before you make any decisions, but I could get you a million-eight for this property tomorrow. If you're willing to wait for the right buyer, you'll get more ... but I don't think in the current market it would fetch more than two-million-one or maybe two-two."

This news was beyond welcome, and Kate shielded her eyes, certain they finally had turned into cartoon dollar signs. She'd originally expected to get, at most, a few hundred thousand dollars for what she'd imagined to be a blighted waste. The place was truly beautiful. She spent another twenty minutes discussing the finer details of the property and the current market with the realtor before announcing she'd like some time to view the property on her own. After the woman left, Kate went looking for Eli.

She found her friend up on a slight rise behind the stables, inspecting a piece of equipment on the ground. He was carefully moving things about and taking more notes.

"This well looks like it's been recently drilled."

"Mrs. Munson said the last buyer put it in. It seems like I stumbled into a gold mine." She explained everything the realtor had told her, and they took a seat in the grass as she talked. "It just sounds like vintage Otto," she finally concluded. "He paid a fortune for this place ten years ago, when it wasn't worth anything, and then lost interest the moment it had any real value."

"I like having wealthy friends. You gonna cash in now or wait for top dollar?"

"I don't know. What do you think of the place?"

"Whoever renovated the barn did a good job ... flagstone floor, oak timbers, Douglas pine holding up the roof. It's a metal roof, too. It's noisier in the rain, but it'll be here long after you and I are gone. The kitchen is small but very nice, there's a pantry almost large enough to turn into a spare bedroom ... and did you see the bath and shower room? I wonder if this Simmons guy wasn't some sort of Pasha."

"It's nice, isn't it?" she mused. "The kind of place I might want to live after I retire." She made a spitting sound. "Retire ... what am I talking about? I don't even have a job. I never did, really."

"So ... will the beatings continue until morale improves?"

"What ...?"

"Does good news always get you like this? Pensive and brooding?"

"Oh, shit," she said as she gave her head a shake. "You're right. Really, honestly, Eli this is not me. I've been in the habit of self-pity for so long, I feel like bemoaning everything now. This is very good news," she said with a broad smile, "and I'm very happy. And your rich friend is buying lunch on the way home."