Page 16 of Speak of the Devil

He set down the container of cashew chicken, then reached up to run a hand through his hair. Here at home, he always looked like himself, mostly because he knew his neighbors might get suspicious if it seemed as though a parade of strange men was coming and going from the house.

And he knew he wanted to meet Delia Dunne while wearing his own face. A calculated risk, he supposed, but there was no reason for her to know him from Adam, not when he’d looked entirely different when he was tailing her at the casinos earlier today.

A quick perusal of the properties Dunne and Dunne were representing told him there were several that might work. Or, even better, he could hint to her that he was all right withbuying a property other people had been avoiding due to a pesky resident ghost.

He couldn’t wait to see her in action.

Chapter Six

The requestfor a meeting had come through the agency’s website, so Delia didn’t know quite what to expect from this Caleb Lowe. He was looking for an investment property of some sort and had hinted that it might be a cash transaction, so she was expecting someone maybe in their fifties or sixties, a man who’d already paid off his mortgage but still wanted to participate in the real estate market rather than socking his cash away in a mutual fund or a money market account.

Those expectations couldn’t have been more wrong.

He was maybe a year or two older than she was, with thick, messy dark blond hair, piercing brown eyes, and the face of a male model who spent most of his time in Europe but had decided to come slumming in Las Vegas, for whatever reason. Black leather jacket with a simple gray T-shirt underneath, faded jeans and black boots…a watch strapped to his wrist that looked unobtrusive enough but she knew must have cost at least five figures.

“Thanks for meeting with me,” he said as he reached out to shake her hand. He had a nice voice, too, one that was warm and mellow but not overly deep, and his handshake was firm without feeling as though it was going to crush her fingers.

“It’s no problem,” she replied. “Thank you for reaching out to Dunne and Dunne. Would you like to take a seat?”

She inclined her head toward one of the two chairs that faced her desk, and Caleb sat down while she resumed her perch in the leather office chair where she’d been sitting before he knocked.

“So,” she continued, “you’re looking for some kind of income property?”

“Yes,” he answered at once. “I’ve come into some money, and since I’m not interested in playing the stock market, I thought real estate might be the answer to making that money work for me.”

“Well,” Delia said with a professional smile, one she hoped wouldn’t reveal how much she’d love to sell this guy a house, “property is always a good investment. We’ve had some ups and downs, thanks to low inventory and then high interest rates, but the market has begun to correct itself over the past six months, so I think we’ll be able to find something that fits your needs and budget.”

As long as his needs weren’t too crazy and his budget wasn’t too low. Even Las Vegas’s expansive real estate market had its limits.

Leaning forward in his chair, Caleb replied, “I was hoping to get a deal on a distressed property, a place that doesn’t have anyone interested in it because of its…issues.”

For some reason, she had a feeling he wasn’t talking about foundation cracks or galvanized plumbing that needed to be replaced. “What kind of issues, Mr. Lowe?”

A glint entered his dark eyes. “You can call me Caleb. No point in being formal, right?”

Most of the time, her clients preferred to be on a first-name basis, but she never presumed. Then again, her first look at him had already told her that he didn’t seem to be the type to stand on ceremony.

“Sure, Caleb,” she said easily. “Did you want to stay within the Las Vegas city limits, or are you all right with looking in Henderson or Summerlin, places like that?”

“I’d like to stick with Las Vegas if possible,” he replied. “But I’m open to other options if we find the right property outside town.”

Well, that was something. Not that there wasn’t plenty of inventory in Las Vegas itself, but the broader the parameters, the better the chance of finding a house that would be the right fit.

“But it sounds as if you’re okay with a fixer-upper.”

He grinned. “Sure. I was kind of hoping to find a house that other buyers have avoided because of…well, let’s call it supernatural involvement.”

There it was. Then again, it wasn’t as if Delia had ever done much to hide her particular area of specialty, or otherwise her clients would have had a much harder time tracking her down. Heck,Las Vegasmagazine had published a piece on her about eighteen months earlier.

“It looks like you’ve done your homework, Caleb.”

He settled back in his chair and crossed one leg over his knee. The black motorcycle boots he wore were scuffed, the jeans faded. If it weren’t for the Patek Philippe watch casually strapped to one wrist, he probably wouldn’t have looked like the sort of person who could afford to buy a house for cash.

But appearances…especially in the real estate business…were often misleading. In fact, Delia’s experiences had led her to believe that the worse off a person looked, the greater the chance that they had some serious cash on hand.

“I like to know who I’m working with,” he said, then shot her another of those disarming grins. “And sure, I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I’ve probably watched too many episodes ofGhost Hunter Adventures.It just sounded like it would be interesting to try purchasing a property that other people haveavoided because it has a couple of ghosts who’ve decided to take up residence.”

She could disabuse him of that notion at least. “Most of the houses here in Las Vegas that have been proven to be haunted have only one ghost. It’s probably because there isn’t a lot here that’s more than fifty or sixty years old, so it’s not as if we have properties where multiple people have passed away on the premises.”

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