Chapter 3
Chapter Three
He pulled into a parking space and searched the ground-level storefronts, but he didn’t see what they were looking for. “Are you sure this is the right place?”
Matthias cut the ignition, and they climbed out. Inside the building, they took a groaning elevator to the second floor. Sonny Jones’s office was directly to the left. Matthias tried the door. It opened.
A thirty-ish woman in jeans and a T-shirt looked up from her desk. “I’m sorry. The office is closed today.”
“Yet, here you are,” he said lightly. “We’re looking for Sonny Jones.”
“The office. Is. Closed,” the woman repeated more slowly. “He’s not in.”
Emma stepped closer to the desk. “I realize that, but we just arrived from Erie and have business with him.”
“Then you’ll need to make an appointment to see him next week.”
Matthias moved to Emma’s side, his gaze on the surface of the desk, which held a cheap plastic trophy emblazoned with the words World’s Greatest Aunt, as well as stacks of paper and an assortment of sticky notes.
“Could you tell me if you’ve spoken with Eric Baker recently?” Emma asked.
The receptionist’s expression grew more annoyed by the moment. “I would have to check my calendar, but it’s Saturday. I’m not officially here.”
“But you are unofficially here,” Emma said.
Matthias stifled a grin. Atta girl. Don’t back down. He scanned the sticky notes, most of which were of no interest to him. One, however, was scribbled in a different hand.
If you need me, I’ll be working at the POWELL farm site all day Saturday. SJ.
The woman let her head drop back in frustration. “This is what I get for trying to slip in and out on a weekend without being noticed.” She faced Emma, glaring. “We’re closed. Call on Monday and make an appointment.”
Matthias touched Emma’s arm. “She’s right. No one wants to work on a weekend and not get paid for it. Let’s go.”
“But—” Emma looked at him, clearly stunned that he wasn’t supporting her on this mission.
He hoped she knew him well enough to understand. From her expression, she didn’t.
However, she did trust him. “All right.” To the receptionist, she said, “Sorry to have bothered you.”
Once they stepped outside, Emma turned to him with a scowl. “What’s going on? It wouldn’t have killed her to answer a couple of questions.”
“Do you know where the Powells’ farm is?”
“Yeah. It used to be a big dairy operation about fifteen, maybe twenty, miles from here. Why?”
“Because according to a note on Ms. Uncooperative’s desk, ‘SJ’ will be working there all day today.”
“SJ,” Emma echoed. “Sonny Jones.” She grinned. “I will never question your actions again.”
Matthias chuckled. “Right.”
* * *
Emma remembered the rolling green pastures, red milking barn, and the Powell family’s white farmhouse complete with gingerbread trim. She’d been in 4-H with a girl who’d married one of the devastatingly handsome Powell sons and had moved her horse into a smaller pasture next to the house.
That was a decade ago. As Matthias rounded a bend in the road and the property came into view, Emma’s heart collapsed in her chest. The green fields, red barn, and white house she remembered were gone, leaving only brown mountains of dirt.
The farm tractor and manure spreader once parked in front of the barn had been replaced by bulldozers and backhoes belching smoke as they moved earth once populated by Jersey cattle.
A trio of identical houses wrapped in Tyvek stood side-by-side on a ribbon of pavement snaking through what had once been grazing land.
She must’ve moaned, because Matthias gave her a concerned look. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“No. This place used to be… beautiful.”
“Progress,” he responded sarcastically.
“Progress my ass.” Several monster-sized pickups lined the paved road. North Star Developing was emblazoned on the doors of a black Ford Super Duty. She pointed. “Looks like we’re in the right place.”
Matthias parked behind the trucks, and they climbed out.
Instead of birdsong, the air was filled with the rumble of earth-moving equipment, the whine of power saws, and the thwack of hammers.
Emma spotted a group of men in hard hats gathered around a pair of sawhorses topped with a sheet of plywood.
Two of the men were involved in a heated discussion.
She started toward them and noticed blueprints spread on the makeshift table.
An angry voice rose above the other noise. “This isn’t what we agreed on. The changes you’ve made are far beyond the scope of our budget.”
“Oh, stop being such a drama queen, Patrick, and do what I tell you to do.”
One of the men not involved in the argument noticed their approach and held up a hand. “Hey,” he shouted. “You can’t be here. This is a construction zone.”
“No shit,” Matthias muttered.
The others fell silent and turned their way.
Emma hadn’t been sure if she would recognize Sonny Jones after all these years, but she spotted him immediately as the man who’d apparently made unexpected changes to the blueprints.
His face was weathered, but he still had the broad shoulders and narrow hips of the football star who’d lost a college scholarship to a blown-out knee.
His snug T-shirt and skin-tight Wranglers showed off every muscle, and a wide smile lit his face when he noticed her.
“Emma? Emma Anderson? Is that you?” He strode toward her.
Damn, he was still hot. Not as hot as Matthias, but close. “Yes, it’s me,” she said.
The hug he swept her up in took her by surprise. “It’s so good to see you,” he whispered in her ear.
She squirmed free, feeling Matthias’s eyes on her.
“Good to see you, too.” She stepped aside and said, “Sonny Jones, meet my boyfriend, Matthias Honeywell.” It was the first time she’d introduced him as her boyfriend, but considering Sonny’s wolfish smile, she needed to draw the line sooner rather than later.
The two men shook hands. Not the usual quick grasp-and-release.
Emma knew they were doing the male dominance routine of trying to crush their competition’s bones.
Buff or not, Sonny didn’t stand a chance, but she gave him credit for containing any signs of pain.
Nor did he shake out the hand once they released their grip.
“Boyfriend, huh?” Sonny kept his eyes on her but directed his next words at Matthias. “Emma and I go way back, you know. In fact, I believe I was her first love.”
“First crush,” she corrected. “We were nine.”
“I always considered you the one that got away.”
“You’re as full of bull as always.”
Matthias cleared his throat. She glanced at him. Get back on track.
“We’re looking for Eric. Have you seen him today?”
“Baker?” Sonny shook his head. “Not since Wednesday. We had a meeting about you and your acreage.” He crossed his arms and grinned. “I understand you’re ready to sell to me.”
Emma looked around at the barren landscape. Pictured her family home ripped apart, dug up, and turned into something she wouldn’t recognize.
“As a matter of fact,” Sonny went on, “I have the agreement for the sale all drawn up and in my truck. We can sign it right now.”
“You misunderstood whatever Eric told you. I’m nowhere near ready to sell. Besides, the deed isn’t only in my name. My sister is half owner.”
“I know. I already have her signature. All I need is yours.”
* * *
Matthias watched the color drain from Emma’s face. Before she had a chance to ask, he took the lead. “When was that?”
Jones feigned being oblivious. “When was what?”
So, this was how it was going to be. Matthias lowered his voice to the timbre he knew sounded threatening. “When did Nell sign your papers?”
“Like I said. On Wednesday.”
Which wasn’t what he’d said, but Matthias let it slide. “She was with Eric.” Not a question.
“She was. We met at my office. They read over the sales agreement.” Jones turned to Emma. “She was thrilled at the idea of having something done with that property, and the price we settled on pleased her. I’m sure it will please you, too.”
The color returned to her cheeks, blazing an angry crimson. “You can’t have settled on a price without me.”
“It was my understanding that Eric was acting on your behalf. He said you were more than happy to let him tackle the headaches involved, and once I upped my offer to seven hundred and fifty thousand, he was all on board.”
“What about having me retain ten acres?”
“Sweet Emma, I would be more than happy to sell you ten acres back at a price to be determined.” He chuckled. “But at three quarters of a million dollars, I’m buying the entire property.”
Emma clenched her fists at her side, the knuckles white.
“You talk like it’s a done deal,” Matthias said to Jones. “It’s not. Not without Emma’s signature.”
“Correct.” Jones kept his gaze on her. “What do you say? Let’s walk over to my truck and take care of that little detail now. Patrick here happens to be a notary.”
“There’s no way—”
Matthias cut her off by closing his fingers around one of her clenched fists. “I think you should take a look at the papers. You don’t have to sign them right now.”
Her eyes came up to meet his, her expression stunned and fierce.
He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “I want you to make sure it’s really Nell’s signature.”
The lines on her face softened in understanding. She turned to Jones. “Okay. Let me read this agreement, so I can make an informed decision.”
Jones beamed. “That’s my girl.”
Matthias longed to shake this guy’s hand again, and this time, he wouldn’t hold back.
* * *
Sonny opened the passenger door of his oversized pickup. “Have a seat,” he told Emma.
She glanced at Matthias, who wore an expression which telegraphed he was five seconds away from breaking Sonny in half. “I’m fine out here,” she said.
Sonny shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He reached inside, sifted through a box of papers on the floor, and pulled out several pages, which he attached to an aluminum clipboard and handed to her, along with a pen he whipped from his shirt pocket.
Emma ignored the pen. She flipped to the last page. Nell’s signature was a weird combination of blocky letters and feminine flourishes on the capital N and A. It was unique and definitely her hand. Wednesday’s date filled the line next to it. Below was the signature of a witness, Tina Neidermeyer.
Another line had Emma’s name printed beneath it. She flipped back to the beginning.
“You’re gonna read the whole thing?” Sonny sounded exasperated.
“I don’t sign legal documents without at least reading them. In this case, I may want an attorney to go over it, too.”
“That’s hardly necessary. It’s boilerplate.”
He was right about one thing. An attorney wouldn’t be needed. She had no intention of signing.
She meticulously read each section, each clause. Under different circumstances, it looked like an exceptionally good deal. All cash. Three quarters of a million dollars.
Emma could feel both Sonny and Matthias watching her as she continued to scrutinize the pages. In her peripheral vision, she noticed Sonny fold his arms across his chest.
“To be honest, I respect a woman who pays attention to the details. You’re smart to go over this agreement. Not that you’ll find anything out of order, but that sister of yours sure couldn’t be bothered.”
Sonny’s tone stopped Emma on page three.
“I mean, good God, she’s a mess, isn’t she?” Sonny looked at Matthias, searching for confirmation. Matthias, Emma noted, didn’t react to his words. Sonny returned his attention to Emma. “What’s she on, anyway? The girl is clearly spaced out of her mind.”
Emma refused to meet his eyes as her hands clutched the clipboard tighter. She didn’t know exactly what Nell was on these days, but she wasn’t going to share anything about Nell’s life with Sonny Jones.
“It must be awful for you,” he continued. “Having a druggie for a sister. You really ought to lock her up for her own good.”
The thoughts reeling through Emma’s brain settled into stillness. She yanked the sales agreement free of the clipboard, which she held out to him. “You made me realize something.”
He seemed puzzled as he took the board. “What?”
“If Nell was as impaired as you claim when she signed this…” Emma fluttered the papers at him. “… then her signature on these documents is invalid. Legally.”
Sonny’s face flushed. “Now, just wait a minute.”
“No, you wait a minute.” She took a step toward him as rage blossomed. “I don’t appreciate you coercing my sister into making the biggest decision of her life without me being present or approving.”
Sonny took a step back, apparently stunned by her ire, but he regained his own indignation and leaned over her. “I never coerced anyone, least of all your addict sister. She wants to sell, so sign the damned agreement.”
Emma clutched the papers with both hands and raised them to Sonny’s eye level.
Then she ripped them in half.
“No,” she said, then turned to a grinning Matthias. “We’re done here.”