Page 2 of Preacher

Preacher shrugged. “Didn’t mean he trusted them.”

I peeled the envelope free and opened it. Five hundred dollars in twenties stared back at me. A laugh escaped before I could stop it, and for a second the office didn’t feel quite so heavy. Then I caught Preacher watching me, and that awareness came back immediately. I straightened and tucked the envelope into the open file box on the desk. “I’ll add it to the estate.”

“Rowan would tell you to buy something stupid with it.”

“He’d also tell me to keep it in case the government collapsed.”

I sat on the edge of the desk and folded my arms. “So what brings you here? Besides helping me locate Dad’s secret fortune.”

His gaze dropped to the folder beside me. “What’s that?”

“The reason I’m here.”

He reached for it, but I put my hand over the papers first. When his eyes lifted to mine, I said, “Ask first.”

Something flashed across his face, there and gone. “Can I see it?”

“That wasn’t difficult was it?” I slid the folder toward him before he could turn my name into another warning. “It’s an offer for the business.”

He stayed on his feet while he opened it and read the first page, then the second, and the longer he read, the less I liked his expression.

“What?”

“Who brought this to you?” He asked.

“A business acquisition broker contacted the estate attorney. They’re representing a buyer who wants the whole operation.”

“Who?”

“The buyer’s using an acquisition company. The attorney checked the paperwork. It’s legitimate.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

“I know. It’s also all I know right now.”

His jaw tightened as he glanced back at the offer. “And you’re considering this?”

“I’m accepting it.”

His eyes came up sharply enough to stop me. “No.”

I stared at him long enough for him to hear himself. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t sign it.”

“That is a slightly different sentence, but I’m still going to need more.”

Preacher put the folder down. “The price is too good to be true.”

“That’s usually considered a benefit when you’re selling.”

“Not when somebody’s paying so much more than they need to.”

I slid off the desk. “A buyer offering more than I expected isn’t evidence of criminal conspiracy.”

“I didn’t say it was.”

“You didn’t have to. You’ve got the face on.”