almost-empty plate. “There’s something on that brain of yours, Chance Johnson. Spit it out.”
A smile reached his lips in spite of his attempt to keep it from happening. She’d always had the uncanny knack of reading him like one of her books. “I just remembered something Andy mentioned last night. Apparently, there have been a couple of inquiries on the property.”
“Possible buyers?”
He nodded. “Andy said one guy was pretty rough-looking.” Chance turned his head to look across the crowded room to the guy he’d spotted earlier. Gone, thank goodness. “And the other is a company that buys up farmland for the purpose of harvesting natural resources.”
Dakota laid her fork on the plate, her forehead creased. “Meaning?”
“Meaning they harvest the land for lumber, rocks, minerals, paving materials, whatever they can find that will make them money. Oh, and they’ll probably do the same with the farmhouse.”
Her face went more pale than its normal creamy-white, and turned her eyes into emerald-colored orbs, large and dark.
All the answer he needed.
Chance laid the cloth napkin on the empty plate and leaned back while the waitress removed their dishes and scurried off toward the kitchen. “I think I know what we're supposed to do.”
She swallowed, pressed her lips together, and looked at him intently, waiting, but not speaking.
“Don’t know how it’s ever gonna work, but I think we’ll renovate a farmhouse.”
The next thing he knew she was at his side, hugging the stuffing out of him.
CHAPTER NINE
A buzz sounded at the door, immediately followed by a camera shot on Krater’s computer screen. Foley. He’d been in contact off and on since Sunday night late after locating Amy in a restaurant with a guy named Chance Johnson. After following them back to a church parking lot in Miller’s Creek, Foley had tailed her all the way out to the secluded farm where she now lived.
A smile curled his lips. Amy Stephens. Dakota Kelly. A.K. Aston. No matter what name she tried to hide under, he knew them all. Had found her. Just like he always did.
Valmoor purred at his feet. Krater picked him up, and then stepped to the control panel to punch in the code.
“Trick or treat.” Foley, his pot belly protruding like a ripe watermelon, wheezed into a snicker, obviously very much amused by the comment.
A non-amused laugh sounded from Krater's throat. “Fresh out of treats, Foley, but are you sure you really want a trick?”
Foley’s smile faded, and he rapidly shook his head from side to side, his fleshy jowls flopping.
Poor idiot. One he’d endure only until his services were no longer required. Krater stepped back and motioned Foley in, Valmoor tucked contentedly in the crook of his arm. “I expected you yesterday.” He held out his hand for the large envelope containing the maps of the area and layout of the farmhouse.
The man handed them over as he waddled in. “Well, I wanted to make sure things were going down the way I thought they were. You’ll be glad I waited.” Foley’s face was covered with several days’ worth of growth, which only served to highlight his double chin and yellowed teeth.
“New information?”
“Not exactly.”
Careful not to disturb Valmoor, Krater swiftly landed a punch to Foley’s more-than-ample body.
The man crashed into the closed door, then brought the back of his sleeve to wipe the trickle of blood oozing from his mouth.
“I don’t take kindly to my employees taking advantage of me. You should know that by now.” He didn’t raise his voice. There was no need.
Foley whimpered in response, but nodded, his eel-like tongue licking at his busted lip.
“Now, the explanation of why you’re late.”
“I went back to that guy’s law firm.”
“Andy Tyler?”
“Yeah. I wanted to verify that the property wasn’t going up for sale. That our little chickadee planned on staying put.”
The wheels in Krater’s head began to spin.
A smile reached his lips in spite of his attempt to keep it from happening. She’d always had the uncanny knack of reading him like one of her books. “I just remembered something Andy mentioned last night. Apparently, there have been a couple of inquiries on the property.”
“Possible buyers?”
He nodded. “Andy said one guy was pretty rough-looking.” Chance turned his head to look across the crowded room to the guy he’d spotted earlier. Gone, thank goodness. “And the other is a company that buys up farmland for the purpose of harvesting natural resources.”
Dakota laid her fork on the plate, her forehead creased. “Meaning?”
“Meaning they harvest the land for lumber, rocks, minerals, paving materials, whatever they can find that will make them money. Oh, and they’ll probably do the same with the farmhouse.”
Her face went more pale than its normal creamy-white, and turned her eyes into emerald-colored orbs, large and dark.
All the answer he needed.
Chance laid the cloth napkin on the empty plate and leaned back while the waitress removed their dishes and scurried off toward the kitchen. “I think I know what we're supposed to do.”
She swallowed, pressed her lips together, and looked at him intently, waiting, but not speaking.
“Don’t know how it’s ever gonna work, but I think we’ll renovate a farmhouse.”
The next thing he knew she was at his side, hugging the stuffing out of him.
CHAPTER NINE
A buzz sounded at the door, immediately followed by a camera shot on Krater’s computer screen. Foley. He’d been in contact off and on since Sunday night late after locating Amy in a restaurant with a guy named Chance Johnson. After following them back to a church parking lot in Miller’s Creek, Foley had tailed her all the way out to the secluded farm where she now lived.
A smile curled his lips. Amy Stephens. Dakota Kelly. A.K. Aston. No matter what name she tried to hide under, he knew them all. Had found her. Just like he always did.
Valmoor purred at his feet. Krater picked him up, and then stepped to the control panel to punch in the code.
“Trick or treat.” Foley, his pot belly protruding like a ripe watermelon, wheezed into a snicker, obviously very much amused by the comment.
A non-amused laugh sounded from Krater's throat. “Fresh out of treats, Foley, but are you sure you really want a trick?”
Foley’s smile faded, and he rapidly shook his head from side to side, his fleshy jowls flopping.
Poor idiot. One he’d endure only until his services were no longer required. Krater stepped back and motioned Foley in, Valmoor tucked contentedly in the crook of his arm. “I expected you yesterday.” He held out his hand for the large envelope containing the maps of the area and layout of the farmhouse.
The man handed them over as he waddled in. “Well, I wanted to make sure things were going down the way I thought they were. You’ll be glad I waited.” Foley’s face was covered with several days’ worth of growth, which only served to highlight his double chin and yellowed teeth.
“New information?”
“Not exactly.”
Careful not to disturb Valmoor, Krater swiftly landed a punch to Foley’s more-than-ample body.
The man crashed into the closed door, then brought the back of his sleeve to wipe the trickle of blood oozing from his mouth.
“I don’t take kindly to my employees taking advantage of me. You should know that by now.” He didn’t raise his voice. There was no need.
Foley whimpered in response, but nodded, his eel-like tongue licking at his busted lip.
“Now, the explanation of why you’re late.”
“I went back to that guy’s law firm.”
“Andy Tyler?”
“Yeah. I wanted to verify that the property wasn’t going up for sale. That our little chickadee planned on staying put.”
The wheels in Krater’s head began to spin.
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