It was about twenty acres with access to the lake. The land had twenty summer cabins left over from the old days. I checked with a local Realtor, who told me that it wasn’t a great place for rental property, but I might be able to renovate and sell the cabins there. I had no interest in selling houses.My interest was in owning rental property which I could rent to ghosts. I could use it to wash the increasing medical pot money.Before Lucy got home. The shell company I owned by that time bought a mom and pop motel. Then it hired the same manager as before. His one qualification was that he didn’t give a crap what happened, as long as he got paid. He gave out keys to the few real customers who checked in. His teenage daughter cleaned the rooms and changed the sheets. She also did the laundry. The two of them were pretty much the whole expense of running the place. It was all taken care of by a property manager who didn’t care where the money came from, as long as he got his share. I. ‘That’s Sarah Martin?’ Mrs. Thatcher was shocked by the way he had interrupted her, and she frowned. ‘Yes. Why? Do you know her? I could swear I’ve seen her somewhere before.’ Sheriff Wilson looked at her as if she had two heads. ‘Of course you’ve seen her before. There’s a wanted poster with her picture that’s been hanging in my office for nearly two months!’ Mrs. Thatcher’s jaw dropped, and her eyes popped wide. ‘Of course! I knew I had seen that face!’ ‘Excuse me,’ the sheriff said, jabbing his hat onto his head. ‘I’ve got some business to attend.’ He left Mrs. Thatcher with her mouth hanging open, and he walked to the bakery as quickly as possible. The sheriff entered just as Naomi and Sarah were seating themselves at a small table. He didn’t bother to remove his hat. He simply approached and stared at Sarah, scanning her features carefully. ‘Sarah Martin?’ he asked gruffly. The hair on the back of Sarah’s neck stood up when she saw his keen interest. She and Naomi exchanged a.
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