Then they tried to buy up a different parcel, but that had also been recently purchased. They found the same for half a dozen more parcels, all in the same area. All of the property was marshy, landlocked, and undeveloped. Undesirable, remote property. All recently purchased.
Then they began researching who owned the parcels, and found that they’d all been brought up by corporations who only had p.o. boxes as addresses, and no public information about the corporations could be found.
Adrian began trying to find out who’d been buying up all the land, and kept running into brick walls.
After a couple of weeks of research, he wrote, “I told the police that I’m pretty sure I was followed yesterday, but they don’t seem to take me too seriously.”
Well, that was news. Why hadn’t the police mentioned that? And why did they claim that they had no reason to think there was anything suspicious about his disappearance?
In one of the notebooks, he’d listed the parcels of property that had been purchased, and next to the list he’d written the word “Metamorph?”
“This is very strange,” she said. “Some secretive corporation is buying up all this property, and when Adrian starts investigating, he disappears. But how does this tie in to the Original Shifters disappearing? Or does it?”
“We need to go back to your office so we can get an idea of where that property is, but I think one of those parcels is in the area where the three ley lines cross,” Blanche said. “There used to be a settlement out there, which is why all kinds of shifters started appearing, but then when the rail line was built, the town moved to be closer to the railroad. Nobody has lived out there for a hundred and fifty years or so.”
Coral sneezed for the dozenth time. “Let’s go,” she agreed. “I’ll meet you back there.”
She stopped by Kray’s house to let him know that she had decided the house wasn’t quite what she was looking for, as Blanche got in her car and headed back in to town.
Her cell phone rang as she climbed into her car. It was Flint.
“How’s my favorite redhead?” he asked. His voice was so deep, so rich, and so damned sexy that it sent a flood of heat rushing through her.
He’s lying to me about why he’s in town, and he dumped me this morning to run off to deal with his crazy lady friend, she reminded herself firmly. And all he wanted was a summer fling, anyway; he’d flat out told her that. There’s no point in dragging this out any further. She already found herself struggling to keep her mind on her work, with Flint’s face popping into her mind and constantly distracting her.
“Fine,” she said, forcing herself to sound cool and neutral.
“I had an amazing time last night. I’d like to see you again. Are you up for dinner tonight?”
She swallowed hard. Be strong, she scolded herself.
“I don’t think I can make it. I found some interesting information at the house that Adrian was renting, and I need to go talk to my publisher about it. There were a bunch of notebooks and a journal that he’d hidden in his room, where he talked about some land parcel purchases he was investigating. I need to get them back to the office so I can start tracking down the owners of those parcels of land.”
“I thought you were going to leave the investigating to the police.” Flint’s voice had suddenly gone cold and hard.
“I never said that,” she said. “You suggested it. I ignored you. I’m a reporter, Flint. That’s what we do. We investigate.”
“Can’t you just give it a little more time?”
“No, I can’t. There are too many mysteries here, and I feel like there’s a common thread tying everything together, and maybe it will lead to the people who have gone missing. I have to go, Flint, I’m driving on these windy country roads. I don’t want to hit a tree.” She hung up her cell phone and tossed it in to her purse.
She was almost back at the center of town when she suddenly realized blue lights were flashing behind her.
She glanced at her speedometer. She was going thirty miles an hour in a thirty mile an hour zone.
Puzzled, she waited as the sheriff’s deputy strode up to her car.
“License and registration?” the wolf shifter asked her.
She handed them over, annoyed. He went back to his car, and she sat there waiting until he returned and handed them back to her.
“May I ask why you pulled me over?” she asked.
“One of your brake lights is out.”
“It is?” She was puzzled. “I hadn’t noticed.” She also wondered how he’d noticed. It was daytime. She’d been cruising at a steady speed, and hadn’t stepped on her brakes.
“Go stand behind the car. I’ll show you.”
She sighed and slid out of her seat, and walked behind the car as he got in the driver’s seat. He started the car up, and after a moment, she saw both brake lights flashed. She walked back to the car.
“They’re working fine,” she said, suspicious. What the heck was going on here?
He turned off the ignition and slid out of the car. “You must have some kind of short in the electrical system, or maybe it’s the bulb. You should get that looked at.”