Part 15 (1/2)

”He's pretty good,” I whispered back.

”Salespeople always give me the creeps,” he said, frowning. ”All that fake happiness and c.r.a.p isn't good for anyone.”

”He's just doing his job.”

”Well, his job is lame.”

Corey hopped back up on the deck and sat down again. He nodded at the yard and then smiled at me. ”You live in a good spot.”

”How's that?”

”Well, most of the Rose Petal area is built over shale rock, which is a tremendous source for natural gas,” he explained, looking from me to Victor and then back to me. ”Taitano Resources has made a commitment to help reduce energy costs by extracting as much natural gas as possible from the shale in order to help preserve other resources.” He smiled at me. ”And when you own land where shale is present beneath the surface, we feel obligated to compensate you more than fairly to use your land.”

I doubted Corey or his company felt any obligation other than to make as much money as they possibly could, but I didn't say anything.

He tapped away at the iPad again. ”Your entire property appears to rest on shale, so we'd be interested in exploring the entire subterranean area of your property.”

”What exactly does that mean?”

He grinned. ”You a baseball fan?”

”Sure.”

”Favorite team?”

”San Diego,” I said. ”Makes no sense, but we went on vacation there as a kid and my dad took me to a game there. Padres have been my team since then. Probably to spite my dad, who's a big Rangers fan.”

Corey chuckled. ”We might not be able to do business then. I'm a Dodgers fan.”

”Ugh. Now I really don't trust you.”

He laughed harder than was necessary. ”Now, now. We can do this peacefully. But, in baseball parlance, your home is like a grand slam.”

”How's that?”

He smiled again at me. ”Well, it's a bit complicated. But the simplest way to explain it is that we do some digging, squirt a little water down there, and see what comes up. My guess is that a lot is going to come up. A grand slam.” He tapped at the iPad, then spun it around and showed it to me. ”And this is what we'd pay you to explore your land.”

I started to say something, but then did a double take at the number on the screen. It was at least three times what I was expecting to see. I looked at Corey. He was smiling, having noticed the double take.

”Taitano Resources wants you to know that they appreciate your permission to use your property,” he said, grinning. ”Like I said, we know it's an inconvenience to temporarily turn your property over to us. We believe in repaying your generosity with fair financial payment.”

No wonder my father was having trouble saying no. If my little suburban house and lot was worth the number Corey Stewart was showing me, I couldn't imagine the figure they'd given Dad.

”So, do you pay per acre?” Victor asked, glancing at me, annoyed that I'd gotten sort of lost in the dollar signs. ”The bigger the plot, the bigger the dollar amount?”

”I guess that's one way to look at it,” Corey said, nodding thoughtfully. ”A larger parcel of land means more shale for Taitano Resources to explore, which means the owner of the land should be more compensated, as well. It all depends on what's below the ground, but in a shale-rich area like this? Absolutely, the bigger the plot, the bigger the dollar amount.”

”So a huge hunk of land might bring in a pretty good haul?” Victor asked, raising an eyebrow.

Corey upped the wattage in his smile. ”For sure. Are you the owner of a huge hunk of land, Victor? Because I'd love to come take a look at it, if you're interested in working with us.”

Victor yawned and waved a hand at me. ”Can we get on with this, please?”

Confusion settled on Corey's face, but he didn't lose the smile.

I handed Corey back his iPad. ”I think the huge hunk of land Victor is talking about is the Carriveau County fairgrounds.”

The brilliant smile flickered. ”I'm sorry?”

”I think we may have forgotten to mention this when you sat down,” I said. ”But Victor and I are business partners.”

”In real estate?”

”No, in an investigations service. And we're looking into George Spellman's death.”

The smile was now dimming by the second as he overplayed the confused expression. ”Who is George Spellman?”

”The guy you knocked out at the fairgrounds a few weeks ago,” I said.

And just like that, Corey Stewart's smile was gone.

30.

”First,” Corey Stewart said, pointing at me, ”I don't appreciate being brought here under false pretenses.”

Neither Victor nor I said anything.

”Two, that guy grabbed me and when he wouldn't let go, I pushed him and he smacked his own head on a rock on the way down,” he said, looking back and forth between us. ”He grabbed me first and wouldn't let go. I was defending myself more than anything.”

I looked at Victor, but he was staring at Corey.

”And, three, I had no idea the guy was dead and if you're insinuating that I had something to do with his death,” he said, his hand shaking a bit, ”well, screw you.”

”n.o.body was insinuating anything,” Victor said, frowning. ”Just keep your pants on.”

”I was told you punched George,” I said.

”Well, that's c.r.a.p,” he said, his face pinching together. ”I've never punched anybody in my life. He grabbed my arm, and he wouldn't let go. I told him like three times to let go and he wouldn't. I tried to shake free, but I couldn't. So I pushed him away. He tripped and fell backward and banged his head.” He frowned. ”Yeah, I left him there. But he was breathing, he was sort of mumbling, and he wasn't bleeding. He was fine. I didn't do anything to him.”

”Why was he grabbing your arm?” I asked.

He shoved the iPad back in his bag. ”He said I didn't belong there.”

”Did you?”