Olivia was beginning to doubt her judgment.

Chase gave an overdramatic sigh when Olivia pulled the screen door free from its frame with a terrifying squeal. She fit the key into the dead bolt and opened the door to the dank mustiness within.

“Oh my God, what’s that smell?” Chase asked, poking her head around Olivia.

The smell wasn’t good.

Zeke pushed past them. “Mildew. Definite leak somewhere.”

Olivia refused to look at Chase because she didn’t want the woman to see the disappointment in her eyes. She’d known the cabin was rustic, but she’d not expected it to be so dilapidated. Perhaps she should have sent someone other than the lawn care service out to get the place in livable condition, but that would have meant getting her sister to sign off on it. And she didn’t want to deal with Neve, who had immediately wanted to list the cabin for sale unseen when the bequest came. Besides, Olivia had been determined that Chase’s first task in learning to adult would be getting the cabin up to date. At present, that task seemed Herculean.

Olivia held the door while Chase lifted her shirt over her nose and moved inside. The screen door slammed against the frame like an omen, making her feel trapped in a situation of her own making.

Zeke walked to a lamp and turned the switch.

Nothing.

“Did you have the utilities turned on?” he asked.

Olivia inhaled. “Of course I did.”

She riffled in her bag for her planner and looked back at the last several days. The decision to come north to the cabin had been made a week ago. A quick scan showed that she’d made a note for Marina to call and turn on utilities. Had she sent that memo to her administrative assistant? She couldn’t remember. Damn it. She had no patience for herself when it came to incompetence. “Let me call the office and get my assistant to look into it. Until then, let’s pull the dustcovers off and open the windows to let in some fresh air. That should help the smell.”

“I hope so,” Chase said, muffled beneath her slouchy long-sleeve T-shirt.

Olivia dialed the office, switching on her Bluetooth as she ignored the horrid odor, and ripped back the heavy drapes, exposing the glass-paned windows that were original to the house. Golden light streamed in, catching dust motes in the beams, highlighting the worn wood floors and hand-hooked oval rug she’d once played Barbie dolls upon. Zeke had begun the process of pulling off the sheets and exposing the olive-green tweed couches beneath. The squat coffee table held several outdated copies of Reader’s Digest and National Geographic along with some pottery ashtrays her granny had made.

Chase stood and watched. Of course.

“Chase, can you open the windows in the kitchen?” Olivia said before diverting her attention to the call. “Marina, I need you to call the Shasta County Water Department and California Electric on the following property. Do you have a pen?”