Page 63 of Long Gone

We both climbed in, and he took off up the hill, then turned right onto the paved road and headed west. He slowed down as he approached my car, then turned down the cul-de-sac, driving slowly as we both surveyed the area.

“Looks like Hugo was ready to start selling his lots so the contractors could start building,” Malcolm said.

“Only as far as I know, he never sold any of them or even tried to. I can’t help wondering why not. He would have made money on the deal.”

“Which he would have had to pay out to his investors. As long as the investors were giving him money, he didn’t have to pay.”

He had a point. Had Hugo ever planned on selling lots? Maybe he really had decided his best bet was to hoodwink his clients and run off with the money. The more I saw, the less I thought of his business acumen.

Malcolm turned around at the base of the cul-de-sac and headed for the main entrance. I didn’t ask where he was going. If he’d wanted to see the cul-de-sac, it stood to reason he’d also want to go down the longer road. I didn’t tell him that I’d already seen it. Maybe something would jump out at me that I hadn’t noticed the day before.

“These lots aren’t developed,” Malcolm said.

“It looks like he focused on the cul-de-sac first. I suspect those were the uber premium lots, and he’d planned to use them to drive interest in the neighborhood.”

He shrugged. “Could be. I never saw the appeal of living someplace like this. The need to show off your wealth implies a weak character.”

“Are you wealthy, James Malcolm?” I asked before I thought better of it.

He turned to look at me with an inquisitive stare. “You interested in my money, Detective Adams?”

“Just curious. You made that statement as though you were a man of means.”

“I’m comfortable.”

I hadn’t found any financials on him when I’d originally researched him, but I knew he had money. The tavern was well built, well furnished, and well maintained. Then there was Carter Hale’s setup. That all took money. He just didn’t flaunt it.

Just like he didn’t flaunt anything else, including his emotions. It was like talking to a brick wall.

“I bet your girlfriends have hated living with you.”

He released a short laugh, then gave me a sexy leer. “I haven’t heard any complaints.”

“Not in bed.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure a guy like you is good in bed. I mean, you have a reputation to maintain, it wouldn’t serve it very well if you sucked in the sheets. I was talking about your poker face. Like, how does anyone ever really know what you’re thinking?”

His expression went from amused to dark in lightning speed. “My personal relationships are none of your concern.”

Then a realization hit me. “You don’t usually have personal relationships.”

“I told you my?—”

“Are none of my concern. Yeah. Got that.” I tilted my head, really starting to consider what kind of life he’d led before he’d moved to Lone County. As the head of a criminal organization, he would have seen a relationship as a liability. I suspected he hadn’t been in any real relationships here either. According to Louise, he wasn’t known to have a girlfriend, but then again, he seemed pretty private. I could see him keeping one secret.

“What’s going through that infuriating head of yours?” he demanded, shooting me a dark look.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Why? Are you wanting to test out your I’m-good-in-bed theory, and you’re afraid you’ll need to watch your back if you follow through?”

“No, I just figure if we’re going to work together, I should know more about you.”

“The only thing you need to worry about is what resources I have to help investigate Hugo Burton’s murder. Nothing else matters.”

“Murder?” I asked.

“We both know the man was murdered. We just need to find the smoking gun.”

“AKA his body.”

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