“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Just business stuff,” he said.
“Well, I can relate. It’s been a hell of a week over at the youth center.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’m not talking about it unless you do.”
I watched him sigh before he leaned back into his chair.
“How much do you know about the mansion that burned down three or so weeks ago?” he asked.
“Enough. Jessica likes to talk. I know you guys were working on it and it burned down due to electrical issues.”
“No, it didn’t.”
“What?” I asked.
“The issues weren’t electrical.”
“Then, what happened to it?”
“The house was burned down intentionally.”
My eyes widened as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Say what now?”
“Chances are, it was made to look like an electrical problem, but the fire marshal ruled it arson.”
“Do you have any idea who would do something like that? Maybe it was accidental arson?” I asked.
“Not judging by the meeting I just came from.”
“What meeting, Everett?”
“Look, this isn’t important. We’re here to talk about—”
“It’s important to me.”
His eyes connected heavily with mine and held my gaze. Not even I was sure where the hell that statement had come from. But, it didn’t feel false. Which was both confusing and pressing. Why was something like this important to me? It wasn’t any of my business. Literally and metaphorically.
“Okay then,” Everett said.
“So, what happened at the meeting?” I asked.
“A friend of mine—Colton—is in the real estate investment business. He does a lot of deals, and not all of them are always good things.”
“Okay?”
“He took a trip to New York a couple of weeks before the mansion burned down and met this man who works for a company called Cinder Block Enhancements.”
“Odd name, but it makes sense.”
“Apparently, he went on this interesting diatribe about how the marketplaces in the big cities of the U.S. are reaching their ballooning peak. How they’ll burst and the real estate market won’t mean shit and how the real investment future is in the poorer states. Like South Carolina.”
“I guess the theory makes sense,” I said.