Strawberry Summer by Cynthia Blair Page B

tells me anything. Just keeps piling on the work, without any regard to how much I have to do....”
    “Is Tom here?” Chris asked innocently.
    “No, he left for lunch about five minutes ago. I’m afraid you just missed him.”
    “Oh, dear. That’s too bad.”
    Of course, Chris knew only too well that Tom had just left, along with the other two real estate agents. After all, she had been standing in the shadows of the Okie-Dokie Inn, next to the dumpster, for a full fifteen minutes, waiting until the coast was clear.
    “It doesn’t matter, though.” The receptionist shrugged. “In fact, now that you’re here, I can take off a few minutes early.” Conspiratorially, she added, “My lunch hour doesn’t officially begin until twelve-fifteen. But if you’re going to cover the phones, I might as well sneak out now. Hey, that means I’ll even have time to go to the bank!”
    “Take your time,” said Chris breezily.
    After a quick tour of the offices, during which Chris was able to identify Tom’s office—and the office’s key filing cabinet—and a brief lecture on how the telephone system worked, the receptionist hurried away. Her glee over getting out of the office a few minutes early kept her from asking a lot of questions-—exactly what Chris had been hoping for.
    Well, that was easy enough! she thought, greatly relieved once the woman was gone and she had the office to herself. Now, if only I can keep my hands from shaking....
    Chris got down to business immediately. She started with the file cabinet she had noticed first, right in Tom’s office. It was very organized, with a separate file, it seemed, for each of their clients, all alphabetized. She checked under “R” for Reed and “P” for Pinewood, but found nothing. So she began reading through the files, one at a time, hoping to stumble upon something that rang a bell.
    At first, she was nervous. Each noise made her jump. It hadn’t occurred to her until she was actually doing this—going through Lake Majestic Realty’s files, pretending to be someone she wasn’t—how much of a risk she really was taking. What if someone came back early? She could be caught red-handed!
    But that won’t happen, she kept telling herself over and over again. Susan and I already checked all that out. The real estate agents never come back before one ... so there’s still plenty of time.
    The other concern that plagued her was that what she was doing was probably illegal.
    But what they’re doing is illegal, too! she thought.
    No, this was no time to be debating the pros and cons of what she was doing. She had already come this far. Now she had no choice but to go ahead with her plan. After all, it was all for the Reeds. And reminding herself of that made it much easier to continue.
    As she became more and more involved with seeking out the information she so desperately needed, Chris forgot to be nervous. Instead, she found herself becoming angry.
    Darn! I know there’s something here! If only I could find it!
    She gave up on the large filing cabinet. But another quick tour of the offices told her there weren’t any other such files.
    That left the desks.
    Somehow, snooping around someone’s desk seemed like a real violation of privacy. But once again she reminded herself that it was for a good cause. All she had to do was think about the conversation she had overheard—Tom’s evil laugh, his plans to get rich in such an underhanded fashion, his triumph over forcing the Reeds to sell their land, and at too low a price. She forged onward, more determined than ever to expose the crooked dealings of Lake Majestic Reality. After taking a deep breath, she descended upon Tom’s desk.
    One drawer, she discovered, contained more files, like those she had found in the big file cabinet. Chris wondered why these were kept separately ... unless they were all files on unethical dealings. She pounced upon them eagerly.
    Sure enough, the third file she came across was