Page 32 of Long Gone

Unfortunately, I had a lot more questions than answers, but as far as I could tell, the only business Larkspur Limited had ever done was purchase that one large piece of property.

My alarm went off on my phone, which meant it was time to leave for Brett Colter’s office, but I didn’t regret the way I’d spent my time. I felt better prepared than I had an hour ago.

The sky was overcast, and the wind had picked up. A storm was blowing in, but it looked far enough west that I thought I could get to Colter’s office before it hit.

The Colter Investments office was a three-story building with a parking lot that had to have had at least thirty cars parked in it. After I parked, I grabbed an umbrella and headed inside. The lobby had a white marble floor and a dark wood wall behind a desk staffed by a middle-aged security guard with a name tag that read Mike.

My shoes clicked on the stone, echoing through the two-story lobby as I approached. “I’m Harper Adams. I have a nine o’clock meeting with Mr. Colter.”

Mike gave me a tight smile. “Good morning, Ms. Adams. Mr. Colter is expecting you. Just take the elevator to the third floor.”

I walked over to the single stainless-steel elevator and pushed the button next to it. A sign listing several other businesses and their office numbers was pinned to the wall next to the elevator. The stainless steel doors slid open almost immediately, and I entered the car and pressed the third-floor button. When it opened on three, another reception desk was directly in front of me, only this one was staffed by a young woman with full, long blond hair and a friendly smile.

“You must be Harper Adams,” she said sweetly. “Mr. Colter is expecting you.” She rose from her chair and walked around the desk. “If you’ll come with me.”

I followed her through an open office space with eight desks, all filled with people who seemed intent on their jobs.

We walked past them and down a short hallway, stopping in front of a partially closed door at the end.

The receptionist knocked, then pushed the door open. “Mr. Colter? Ms. Adams is here to see you.”

“Come in. Come in,” a man called out good-naturedly, and she pushed the door all the way open, moving aside so I could enter.

I stepped into the sleek, contemporary office space, my gaze landing on the fifty-something man sitting behind a glass, metal-framed desk.

“Ms. Adams. Please, take a seat.” He gestured to a couple of chairs inside his office.

I’d started in that direction when the receptionist asked, “Can I get you something to drink, Ms. Adams? Coffee? Water?”

I would gladly offer up my hypothetical firstborn for a really good cup of coffee—and there was a chance I’d get one here—but I didn’t want the distraction. “Thank you, but no.”

“Brett?” she asked.

His gaze lingered on her with a hint of lust, which he quickly tried to cover. “No thank you, Miranda. That’s all for now.”

If he wasn’t sleeping with her, he was hoping to.

I was still halfway to the chair, but I turned to look out the wall of windows overlooking a wide stretch of undeveloped land. About half was covered in fields, but the rest looked like dense woods.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked in a soft tone that surprised me.

I turned to look at him, but he was staring out at the view.

“I have to say,” I said as I came to a stop in front of one of the chairs, “I’m surprised you haven’t developed it.”

Chuckling, he turned to face me. “I guess you would think so. And maybe most developers would. All that space just waiting to be…”

“Developed?” I asked my brow rising.

He chuckled again. “I do more than develop, Ms. Adams. I create something out of nothing. I help provide stability and job security. I help a town grow and thrive.”

“So you consider land developing to be an honorable profession?” I asked as I sat down.

Surprise filled his eyes. “You don’t?”

“Honestly?” I asked as I sat back and crossed my legs. “I hadn’t ever really thought about it one way or another. People and corporations buy land. They put something on it. They make money. Then they move on to the next project.”

He leaned forward, an earnestness washing over his face. “Well, I see it differently. Sure, any fool can buy a lot and put a McDonald’s on it, and don’t get me wrong”—he held up his hands in a defensive maneuver—“towns need McDonald’s, but I do so much more than that.”

---