Page 7 of A Murderous Crow
“So, you help us out?” he demanded.
“Let me take it to the table,” I said. “Get back at you within the hour.”
“I’m gonna need an answer sooner than that,” he said.
I nodded, realized he couldn’t see it, and said, “Noted. Holler back at you in a minute.”
I ended the call and dialed up Syn forthwith.
“Yeah?” he rasped on the other end, and he sounded out of breath. This time? He was likely fucking Madisyn into next week.
“Renaldo called, wants to, ah, borrow some tools.”
“Borrow?” he asked.
I cleared my throat, and he grunted.
“Timeframe?” he asked.
“Like fuckin’ yesterday, apparently,” I said.
Syn swore, and I heard Madisyn groan, then yip after a sharp report – likely his hand landing on her ass. I got hard just thinking about it.
“Call him back, tell him rendezvous at the third worksite in…” he checked the time. “Forty-five, and he better not make this a fuckin’ habit.”
“Copy that,” I said, shaking my head and pinching the bridge of my nose. Syn hung up on me, and I dialed Renaldo back.
“Third worksite in forty-five minutes,” I said as soon as he answered.
“We’ll be there,” he said, and the line went dead.
I sighed and swirled the amber liquid in my glass, holding it up to let the light shine through it.
That was a little too easy, I thought… and I was sure that Syn would impart the rest of his message himself.
I scrolled down to the text exchange with Savannah and huffed a sigh.
She was showing a place on Hamblin. I wondered if it was the old Lane place – if so, good luck sellingthatone. It’d lost most of its historic charm, and there weren’t many willing to shell out just under a mil for a one-bedroom, two-bath, especially not now.
The wave of new money, typically from online influencer money, requiredspace,studio setups, and a myriad of other bells and whistles that the old Lane place just didn’t have.
It was charming, sure, but it wasn’t really what you thought of when it came to Savannah – at least not without an eye for and a budget for restoration.
I closed my eyes and settled back in my seat.
I’d have another chance to spar with Savvy Savannah another day.
I didn’t have any doubts about that.
Chapter Five
Savannah…
This was the sixth property this week that I was to show Hal Lindstrom, and I swear to God, the man was a vampire and wouldnotset a show time before sunset. It was making for averylong week – and my dogs were barking,but…
I stood in front of the Dickinson-Exley House on Duffy, just steps away from Forsyth Park, and had a feeling that if this place didn’t move him, no place would.
Was it brick? No. Was it a mansion? Oh,hell yes!
