Maxine Cafrey, office manager for Lockhurst Properties, checked the call off her to-do list and smiled. “Casey, how are you?”
“I had no idea it was my old spades partner from the yard!” Casey raved, referring to their college campus.
Maxine chuckled. “Man, that seems like so long ago.”
“Not that long.”
“So what can I do for you today? The Queen City Happening paying you enough to afford a bigger house?”
“Not yet, but that may change if I can break this story I’m working on.”
“What’s it about?”
“Lockhurst Properties,” Casey replied, waiting a few seconds before he continued. “Are you guys handling all those buyouts on Briarcliff?”
Maxine chuckled. “I’m sure you already know that we are, Case.”
“All right ... well, I also know Lockhurst is acting on the behalf of another interested party.”
“That’s what we do, Case. That’s what selling real estate is all about.”
Casey’s smile was reflected in his voice. “I know that.”
“But what you really want to know is who that ‘interested party’ is?”
“If you’d be so kind ...”
“Casey, why’s the Queen City Happening so interested in a simple real estate deal?”
“We do cover local business, Max.”
“Well, why the interest in who our client is?” Maxine countered, her uncertainty evident.
Casey decided to come to the point. “We find it very interesting that so many businesses on the same street have closed their doors so suddenly.”
Maxine chuckled again. “We found it interesting too, which is why we took the job. Perhaps those proprietors were just ready to move on to other things.”
“Maybe that’s because they were being forced to move on.”
Maxine’s wide brown eyes narrowed as she leaned closer to her desk. “Now you hold on a minute,” she breathed, all traces of friendliness gone from her voice. “Lockhurst has never done anything illegal for any reason.”
“Does that go for your client as well?”
“You’re going too far now, Casey. I thought the Queen City Happening was a respected and honest paper. Here you are, accusing us of illegal dealings, or is it more than an accusation? You probably already have the story primed for tomorrow’s front page!”
“Max—”
“Weston Enterprises has never been accused of such a thing, and for you to insinuate—”
“That’s Weston Enterprises?” Casey coolly inquired, while scribbling the name on a pad next to the phone.
“Good-bye, Mr. Williams,” Maxine hissed, before slamming down her phone.
“Weston Enterprises,” Casey repeated, drawing a circle around the name.
“I never heard of them,” Topaz was telling Casey when he called her later that evening. “So what’s next?” she asked.
Casey held his phone against the crook of his neck while testing the temperature of his shower water. “I’m gonna dig a little deeper. Find out who Weston is.”
“Well, I’ll keep my ears open in case someone mentions the name.”
Casey turned away from the shower and sighed. “I want you to be careful with this, all right?”
“Here you go,” she groaned, flopping back against the sofa cushions. “I have had enough of every man telling me to be careful like I’m a frail damsel waiting for someone big and strong to come save me.”
Casey laughed on the way back into his bedroom. “Who’s been givin’ you flack?”
“Besides you? Let’s see ... Horace and Stan, all the other male proprietors on the block. Even my own guys are advising me to be careful. Then, there’s your boss.”
“My boss?”
“Mmm ... he’ll probably demand that you not tell me anything more about the story.”
“Alex just cares, Paz. We all do.”
“Well, at least I can depend on you to keep me in the loop, right, Casey?”
