Dangerous Flirt(Laytons Book 2)(39)

“It’s a smokescreen so their partner can buy up the land on the other side of the reservation cheap.”

“What makes you think this conspiracy theory is real?”

He dropped his gaze to his lighter. “I have my sources.”

Phil was a junior partner, not a CIA operative. The guy didn't have sources, he had golf buddies.

“Look, I came here hoping to get some answers, not a bunch of speculation.” She started to stand, but his hand shot out and grabbed hers.

“Do you really think someone would put out a ton of cash to buy land on supposition? On a guess? Hell no. The Haverstan Corporation bought the land cheap and is going to sell it to gas stations, strip malls and hotels for a big profit. We're talking tens of millions of dollars to be made here.”

She sank to her chair with a thunk and tugged her hand out of Phil's grasp. “Go on.”

“The Lakota planning committee is getting a cut of the profits from the land deal in exchange for announcing that the casino will be built off Highway Five. But their agreement came at a price. They didn't want a cut of just some of the land profits. They wanted a cut of all the land profits. Meaning everyone had to sell to Haverstan or the tribe would move the casino's location. Shit, they could cut a deal with another set of developers tomorrow, but they think they'll give a larger share of profits from this deal. Your grandparents’ house is all that sits between Haverstan and a total monopoly.”

“Shit.”

“Damn straight. Now do you understand why you have to sell? Haverstan won't stop. They'll find a way.”

Beth contemplated the dark abyss of her coffee, pushed past the anxiety and gathered her thoughts. Phil's story rang true, but he hadn't told her everything. “Who's behind Haverstan?”

He shrank back in his seat. “I can't tell you that.”

“Why not? Have they threatened you too?”

“No. My cooperation came freely, but I don't like the nasty turn things have taken. She promised me no one would get hurt, but I heard you almost did last night.”

She? “It's not too late, you can stop this. Bring it out into the open and you will.”

Phil looked over her shoulder and his face went pale. “No. I've told you everything I can. You have to sell Beth, there's no other choice.”

Glancing behind her, she spotted Sarah Jane walking through the cafe entrance.

Phil grabbed her hand, pulling her attention back around to him. “You have to sell.”

A shiver ran down her spine. The fear in his eyes made her consider relenting. It was just a house. Her grandparents wouldn't have wanted her risking getting hurt to keep it. Selling was the easy thing to do. A no-brainer really. Except it wasn't her brain that stopped her from cashing in. Some indelible familial tie connected her to the little farmhouse where she'd been raised. Even if she never lived there again, it would always be her home.

“No.”

He deflated in front of her like a child's party balloon and sank back into his seat. Defeat hanging heavy in his sunken eyes and deep worry lines carved into his prematurely bald head combined to make him seem much older than his twenty-eight years.

“So this is where you two snuck off to.” Sarah Jane lowered herself into a spare chair and laid Beth's briefcase on the table. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I didn't want you to lose this.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, you bet.” She patted the yellow-and-blue plaid cloth tote bag at her feet. “I keep scrapbooking materials and my favorite stamps in mine. You never know when inspiration will strike.”

Phil pushed away from the table and stood. “Ladies, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go out in the hall for a smoke. I'll see you later.”

“Darn, I was hoping you could help me carry a box from the business office to the convention hall.” Sarah Jane paused for a moment. “But I'm sure you don't have time for that.”

“I can help.”

“Aren't you the sweetest, Beth, but it's a big box and really I need a man's help. Don't you two worry, I'm sure I can pay a bellboy to haul it for me.”

A strained smile tugged at Phil's cheeks. “We can't have that. I'd be happy to help.”

“Wonderful.” She stood. “Let's be off. We'll see you later at the reception, Beth.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Watching the two of them walk off, it struck Beth that she'd known Sarah Jane for most of her life, but the niggling feeling in her gut telling her she had missed something had grown into an ache.

She had to have turned into a paranoid mess to even imagine Sarah Jane as a criminal mastermind. She was a senior citizen scrapbooking fanatic, for God’s sake.