Page 48 of Long Gone

“My name is Harper Adams and I need to speak to him about an investment he made several years ago. Is he available today?”

The man hesitated, then said, “Hold please.”

Some cheesy elevator music played over the line for about ten seconds before the man said, “He’s available this afternoon at three.”

“That fits with my schedule. Thank you.”

After he hung up, I sat in my car, contemplating what to do for the next two hours. I decided to drive down Highway 20 to check out the Sunny Point property. Anton had said there was a paved road onto the property. I could drive down the road, maybe look around a bit, then head back for my three o’clock meeting.

It seemed like a great plan until I crossed Meadow Creek and saw the sun-faded navy-blue letters on a white sign: Coming Soon! Sunny Point Executive Homes! From Burton Management.

I pulled off the side of the road to the entrance, then parked perpendicular to the long metal bar blocking the entrance to the property.

Anton had neglected to mention the gate.

I shut off the engine and got out of the car. The gate was actually two rusted metal bars held together by a short stretch of silver metal chain and a keyed padlock. The vegetation on either side of the faded asphalt had grown up to the edge, making it impossible to drive around the obstacle.

A No Trespassing sign was nailed to the bottom of the sign.

After a short risk analysis, I tucked my keys in my pocket and walked around the gate. If I was arrested for trespassing, I’d invoke Detective Jones and hope he’d clear me. Worst case scenario, I’d get arrested and have to pay a fine.

The wind was picking up, making the edges of my coat flap open. I held it together as I walked the stretch of road to the end. I guessed it to be longer than the quarter mile Anton had mentioned, but otherwise I found it unremarkable. If Hugo had done any work, the vegetation had either grown back or the infrastructure was underground, as suggested by the utility flags sticking out of the tall, dead weeds on either side of the road. Water. Electricity. Gas. If Hugo had been forced to pay for running the utilities from the highway, it must have been expensive.

The utility shed was still at the end of the road. When I opened the door, it was empty. I suspected Clarice had sold the utility vehicle. It was what I would have done.

I stood in place and made a full sweep of the property. It looked like whoever had bought it had done absolutely nothing with it.

Why?

I really needed those property records to find out how much Larkspur Limited had purchased it for and compare it to what Hugo had paid for the two properties. Foreclosure properties were notorious for going for less than their worth. Had someone from Larkspur killed Hugo so they could buy the property for themselves for a massive discount? If so, why?

A couple of paved roads broke off from the one I was on, one on either side. A cul-de-sac was on the south side, with about five white PVC pipes sticking out of the ground, several hundred feet apart. If the pipes were the utilities for houses, then Hugo had planned for them to be distant from their neighbors. Then again, I suspected that’s what most executives would want. The lots were mostly tree-filled, ensuring the homeowners’ privacy.

Spots of land had been cleared around the other road, but I didn’t see any pipes. I followed that road as it curved and meandered through trees to the southeast until it dead ended about three football lengths from the main road.

I headed back to the shed and scanned the land again, looking for anything that might stick out. The only remarkable thing I noticed were a hint of ruts running in multiple directions, presumably from Hugo’s tours. I wanted to see the land, but I couldn’t do it with my car and it would take forever on foot. Besides, I didn’t have time today.

I headed back to the highway, and about halfway down the road, I saw a dirt road I’d missed walking in. It led down a hill, and I could catch a glimpse of what appeared to be Meadow Creek. Had that been where the pool and clubhouse were supposed to go? Why would he build a clubhouse in a marsh?

After a stop through a coffee shop drive-thru, I added a little whiskey I kept in the glove compartment. I’d done so well and hadn’t had anything to drink since breakfast, but I told myself I was cold, and it was just to warm up, but deep down, I knew it was a lie. I told myself I’d start again tomorrow. By the time I pulled up to the Ford dealership at 2:55, I’d not only warmed up but eased my guilt as well.

I finished off my coffee, then popped a few breath mints as I walked through the front doors and told the receptionist I was there for a three o’clock meeting with Skip Martin. She picked up a phone to tell him his appointment was there, and a few seconds later, a man in jeans and a long-sleeve button-down shirt emerged from the back and walked straight toward me, extending his hand. His salt-and-pepper hair was styled, and he was wearing loafers.

“Skip Martin,” he said, shaking my hand then releasing it and taking a step back. He held his hands up in front of him. “I hear you’re here to talk about an investment of mine. If it’s about that waterpark, I didn’t know anything about the safety issue when I bought in. I swear.”

“No,” I said, slightly confused, reminding myself to possibly investigate that later. But it also assured me that no one had called warning him that I was asking questions. “I’d like to speak to you about another project.” I glanced around the showroom, then back to him. “Can we talk in your office?” I reasoned that if he was hesitant to talk about Sunny Point, he’d have a harder time getting me out of his office than he would walking away from me at the receptionist desk.

His forehead furrowed. “Sure, come on back.”

I followed him to a small office, the desk covered in paperwork and stacked folders. I would have expected something more glamorous for the owner, but then again, he wasn’t dressed in flashy clothes. Maybe he’d preferred the bare-bones space.

He stood at the entrance and let me in, then shut the door behind him as he took a seat at the desk. “I think I know what you’re here for, and to be honest, I’m surprised someone didn’t come by sooner.”

I lifted a brow. “What do you think I’m here for?”

“Sunny Point and Hugo Burton.”

“What do you think I’m going to ask?”

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