Page 43 of The Girl on Hallow's Eve

“Have you had lunch?” I ask.

“Yes, but if anybody asks, I’ll say I haven’t.”

The weather is gorgeous, so we take the picnic I packed outside and sit at one of the handful of picnic tables arranged in a grassy area just beyond the department building. This is where the Sheriff’s Department holds small community events and picnics for the family members of the officers throughout the year. It’s also just a nice space to allow them to get out of the building and breathe real air when they’ve been up to their necks in an investigation.

I tell Sam about Joshua Lawrence and going to speak with him. He didn’t hesitate to admit to the confrontation at the open house, or even to continuing to show up after being fired and warned to stay away. Speaking with him gave me a new insight into the protestors and what they were up against.

“According to him, the Calloway Group isn’t the pillar of the community they present themselves to be. Everywhere they go they create these sprawling residential buildings, or giant malls, or elaborate entertainment complexes, and they always talk a big game about how much they want to be a part of the community and all the good things they can do for everyone living in the area,” I say.

“That sounds familiar,” he notes.

“Extremely. But amidst all the excitement about new jobs, stimulating the economy, and hoping people get to enjoy more luxury in their lives, they fail to mention just how much they are actually hurting the people whose land they are taking to make these places. We know how much the farmers are hurting. We’ve seen firsthand how much having the mall in the area changes things.

“But Lawrence told me it’s more than that. They aren’t just pressuring people to sell their land under threat of seizing it. They aren’t just completely altering entire areas and how people live in and engage with them. It’s more than that. Apparently, the real estate people who work with the Calloway Group are seriously unscrupulous. They purposely go after people they see as vulnerable and defenseless. They know it’s very unlikely these people will fight them, and even if they do, they don’t have the money or the strength to stand up against such a massive company in court.

“Which means they are able to extend extremely low offers for the property even while making the deals sound amazing. They add in all kinds of specialty clauses to the contracts to make them sound really appealing to the landowners, when they basically don’t mean anything because the terms won’t actually ever happen.”

“What kinds of clauses?” Sam asks.

“Things like going to a farmer whose orchards are being destroyed by the development and putting in their contract that if the project is not assessed as being worth at least double the value of their average apple harvest in the same period of time for five consecutive years, they will pay a premium to the farmer in an equivalent amount to the differential between the two values.”

“I don’t even know if that makes sense,” Sam says.

“That’s the point. It doesn’t. Or if it does, it is only just barely. But it sounds really good. It sounds like the farmer is being highly valued and that if the company is wrong about their ability to make more from the area with their development than the farmer’s crop made, they will be compensated. Which, again, is illogical. The threshold is so extremely low that there’s virtually no way a company as large as Calloway Group won’t be able to hit that amount even if whatever they develop is a comparative failure.

“To the farmer, though, it sounds great. That was what turned Lawrence’s thinking around. He saw these people getting screwed over and he knew he was a part of it. He was actively participating in ruining their lives and setting them up for struggle for years to come, if not for the rest of their lives. But he needed his job, so he decided he was going to make a difference. If he was going to work for this company, he was going to help those protesting against it as well.”

“So, there was someone helping the protestors,” Sam says. “An insider who helped them figure out where to go and what would make an impact.”

“Yep. Mr. Joshua Lawrence. Construction worker turned activist. But he insists he had absolutely nothing to do with the killings and doesn’t know who did. He wouldn’t hurt anyone and refused to help any of the protestors who did participate in violent protests.”

“Do you believe him?” Sam asks.

“I do,” I nod. “And he gave me a few more things to think about.”

“Like what?”

“That fire the night of the killings. They said it was on abandoned farm property. But if it was truly abandoned property, why isn’t it being used for anything else? Other farmers could use it for growing or grazing livestock or building. But it just sits there. It got me thinking about all the different pieces of land that were taken to provide the space for the mall, the parking lots, and the landscaping.

“The company didn’t just buy up one farm and use it. They bought pieces of several different farms and family land to ensure they got the exact spot they wanted and had enough space for everything they want to do. I’m curious about all the different landowners. I want to know where each piece of land is located and how the original owner feels about the deal they got.”

“We can find that out.”

“I’m already on it. I put in a call to the clerk at the public records department and she’s going to get me their names and contact information. All I need is a map.”

“I should have guessed,” he says.

I check my watch. “In fact, I better go. She’s supposed to have all that for me soon.” My beeper goes off and I look down at it. “Alright, I’m going to need to fit a trip to the grocery store into my day, so do you need anything?”

“What was that on your pager?” Sam asks.

“Xavier needs more cereal.”

“Are they coming today?” Sam asks.

“Nope. I think he just means in the greater scheme of life. But I’d rather be prepared.”

I kiss him, gather up everything from lunch, then kiss him once more before leaving.

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