Page 7 of Vortex

“Everything from a hobby farm to a recently acquired cattle station in Australia. They are not something to be taken lightly. They can be tens of thousands of square miles. The largest one is the size of New Jersey, or the country of Israel.”

“What happens to all these acquisitions? Do they get sold on, sold as parts of a thing?” Pres seems to have temporarily got Martha Gable off his mind.

“Hell no. They keep them and continue the business. In fact, some have lost money. Become less successful, but none have failed.” Bull looks to Pens and Bank, who both shake their heads.

“Let me get this straight. They are buying out both successful and failing businesses, but doing nothing with them?”

“Not just businesses, Pres,” Bull tells him. “They buy homes, land, empty warehouses, derelict factories. It’s as though they want to own the world.” Bull laughs at this thought, but it makes me nervous. I don’t like the thought of one person or one company owning the world.

“Who is behind this company?” I ask him.

“It’s a group of shareholders, Vortex.”

“No, Bull. I don’t buy into that. There is always one person at the top of the food chain. Who is calling the shots in that boardroom?”

“If you had to have a single name, I guess that would be Brandon Smiles. He started Cottonwood Glades five years ago. It’s been meteoric in its rise, I have to say.”

Narrowing my eyes, I tilt my head slightly. “Where did he come from? Where did he have the money to propel his company to this meteoric rise? Very few investors invest in a nobody with no money. I know it’s happened, but it’s rare. Who is Brandon Smiles and where did he come from?”

“I haven’t got that far yet. I’ll keep digging, but Pres wanted updates as we got them.” Bull looks at Pres.

“All of you keep digging into this for now. Also, keep an ear to the ground for anything to do with our new mayor, Martha Gable. I’d like some dirt on her if there is any to be had.”

The three officers march out and close the door behind them. Pres reaches for his drawer and takes out two glasses and his bottle of high-end bourbon. Sloshing a couple of fingers into each glass, he pushes one over to me. I’m not normally a shot kinda guy, but I’m not saying no to Pres when he’s in this mood.

“You’ve known this realtor, Chris, for quite some time. What do you make of all this?”

“I would never have labeled him as a fast roller, Pres, or one to live the high life. He never struck me as the sort of person who would be immoral, let alone illegal, but something doesn’t sit right in all this. He is certainly not earning the kind of money that he is spending by selling a few local houses or businesses in town. I mean, what could be generating that sort of cash flow? Drugs? Trafficking? Guns? He doesn’t fit the profile for any of those, but saying that, is there a profile that fits someone thinking they are onto easy money?”

Pres sits back, cradling his drink, which I notice he hasn’t touched yet. “Vortex, I don’t know what’s going on here, but it’s making my skin crawl. Something is going down that I don’t know about, and that is rare in this town. How do we get to the bottom of it, eh?” He knocks back his bourbon in one slug and takes on a very distant look. I leave him my glass of bourbon and slip out while he’s distracted. I think I need to have a catch-up with Tanner and find out what he knows, thinks he knows, or suspects.

Chapter 5

*~* Allegra *~*

Iam tired of living in this one room of a shared house. It was okay at first, but the novelty soon wore off. Getting home from work and having parties going on most nights soon lost its appeal. I was as guilty as the next person when I moved in, I admit that, but being a working woman and not a student makes the world of difference. I can’t sleep through my shift like these students who boast about sleeping during lectures.

I still have most of the money that Romeo left me in his will. My brother always took care of me, even when I was a bitch to him and didn’t deserve his loving ways. I was never a horrible bitch, just a baby sister bitch. I had my fantasy about marrying his best friend, Cannon, and we would be like the Three Musketeers together. Che peccato, it was not to be. I like his choice in the woman who took my place, though. She will be as good for him as I would have been.

I need to find my own place to live. Somewhere quieter than this shared house. I have been paying close attention to the real estate market around here, but everything lately is selling faster than I can get to see it. I’m going to drop in at the realtor's office before my shift today and leave my details, my budget, and what I’m looking for. Maybe that way, I’ll get to see some homes that I can make an offer on.

The kitchen of the house is a pigsty. I will not eat food prepared there, so I take my breakfast at a little café that I found not long after moving here. I taught their cook how to make my favorite pastry, a cornetto. While it looks similar to a French croissant, the cornetto is a distinct pastry with a sweeter flavor, a softer bite, and a richer dough. I like mine filled with apricot jam and served with a caffé latte. They sell a lot of cornettos now, and because I introduced it, I only pay for my coffee. I should think about teaching them a lunch item, maybe I could eventually eat here for free.

Strolling down Main Street, I do a little window shopping as I walk. I have plenty of time before my shift and to look at anything that the realtor may have, on paper of course. I’ll have to arrange transport if they have an actual property for me to visit.

Walking into the realtor's office, I hear giggling coming from the back of the office. Looking over, I see an imitation Barbie drooling over a man at his desk. I cough loudly to get their attention, and although she glances over, neither seems in a hurry to engage in business. Walking over to them, I take a seat in front of the desk and cough again. I see a fancy nameplate on the desk that states simply, Chris.

“You need to be at the desk over there,” says Barbie, “and I will be with you in a moment.”

“I came to speak with the puppeteer, not the puppet. You are excused.” I don’t like her attitude, and he does not impress me either. Seeing him smirk at his woman being disrespected speaks volumes about his character, or lack thereof.

“What can I do for you, miss?”

“I am Allegra Moretti. I wish to secure a home for myself. What do you currently have available?”

“Well, if only it were so simple, eh? First of all, we need…” I don’t let him continue with his bullshit.

“What is difficult about buying a home? You show me what you have available, I look at them, choose one and pay for it. It is only as difficult as one chooses to make it. I do not choose to make it difficult.” I can see he does not like this, and he is going to make this as difficult as possible. I may be from another country by birth, but I am now an American citizen, and I am certainly not ignorant of the way things can go.