Chapter 9

“Mr. Thorne?” the unfamiliar female voice crackled over the line.

Emerson cleared his throat and tried to sound authoritative. “Yes?”

“This is Ms. Reyes from the realty firm.”

“Yes,” he said, trying to appear interested and yet intimidating at the same time. He sat up straight on the edge of the hotel bed and focused his attention.

“I understand you wish to make a cash offer on the property in question,” she said.

“Yes.”

“Without seeing the property first?”

“Well, of course, I would like to see it. I’m not completely sure of how much is being sold,” he said carefully.

“Well, the land is being subdivided,” Ms. Reyes continued.

He had no idea what that meant, but played along, saying, “I see…”

“Of course the family wishes to keep the house and the orchards, as well as the stables, barn, and extended outbuildings. The property is to the west, and is undeveloped terrain,” she said in a very businesslike tone. “It would make an excellent investment holding for anyone, I’m sure.”

“Is it suitable for development?”

“Yes, it is currently zoned for both commercial and residential. Did you want to come out and take a look? I can show you the exact boundaries of the property being offered and I can draw up papers for you to submit a formal bid for it,” she said.

“That would be great,” he said enthusiastically. He reined himself in and cleared his throat again, saying, “When?”

“I have some time this afternoon,” she replied. “Meet me back at my office at three?”

“I will see you then,” he said. When he closed his cell phone, Emerson marveled at it. Such a remarkable device, and practically everyone owned one. If he hadn’t gotten this one, he might have had to wait longer to see the property. He was not concerned with the fact that the property was being subdivided, either; all he cared is that he would be close to ShayAnne. He had no intention of speaking to her, or doing anything else to upset her. He simply wanted to be near here. The orchard had seen some of his happiest days, and returning to it seemed somehow natural.

Now he just had to convince the realtor he was the right bidder. He went to the motel window and looked at the parking lot. He wouldn’t be sorry to leave it behind.

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