Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“How have they not been caught?” I wondered out loud.
Skipper typed some more without taking her eyes off me. “Most of these properties are located in two distinct areas, which means the housing authority and any other group involved in oversight is limited to these same two districts. One is Dallas County and the other is Cross County.”
“Hobie is in Cross County,” I said. “Why would this organization care about a county that has two dinky rural towns in it? And what do Dallas and Cross counties have in common besides both being in Texas?”
I knew the town of Valley Cross had some low-income housing in it, but I wasn’t as sure about Hobie. It was always understood that the poorer families tended to live in Valley Cross while the wealthier families lived in Hobie.
“Well, both have significant amounts of property owned by CSP,” Skipper said. “So like, according to deed records, the Stiel Corporation also owns property in Cross County, including the building next to your brother’s pub.”
“The antique shop? That would make sense considering Augie Stiel runs it,” I said.
“No. That one is managed by a realty holding company, but the building itself is privately owned by a Stiel family trust of some kind. The Stiel Corporation owns the one between the antiques and the pub, and CSP owns the one on the other side of the antique shop.”
I thought about the children’s toy and gift shop on the other side of Augie’s store from the pub. It was definitely not low-income housing. It was an upscale grandma shop with designer baby clothes and handcrafted toys. The vacant space between Augie and the pub, apparently owned by the Stiel Corporation, had been an old-fashioned pizza parlor when I was growing up.
“So the Stiel Corp one is vacant,” I began. “But the CSP one is occupied by a specialty gift shop that’s been there at least three years, if not longer. As far as I know, they have no plans of moving. Plus, there’s no way Hobie would approve low-income housing right on the damned town square.”
Rex leaned back in his chair. “Sounds super weird. Like these two groups are connected somehow. Do you think Augie’s involved?”
“No! Definitely not,” I said. “I can’t imagine him involved in something if he knew it was shady or breaking rules. The guy is a rule follower. He won’t even jaywalk in our tiny town in the middle of the night.”
It didn’t escape my notice that I’d claimed Hobie as mine. Even though it had been a long time since I’d made my home there, Hobie had always been a part of me. I’d missed it more and more since my brothers had seemed to be drawn back to it in recent years, and meeting Augie there had made that feeling even stronger.
“Maybe you should ask him about it, Saint,” Rex said after the three of us spent quite a bit of time talking it through. “Skipper and I will keep digging tomorrow, but in the meantime you need to have a conversation with the one Stiel who might be willing to shed some light on this.”
I let out a sigh. “Okay. I’ll talk to him tomorrow at our next session.”
I looked at the time and realized it was well into the evening hours. We’d been working longer than I’d expected.
I stretched and stood up. “It’s late. You guys should get home. I’m going to go work out my frustration in the gym before I get on the road. Let me know what else you find out, especially who runs CSP and who ultimately benefits from these deals. And thanks, guys.”
I was anxious to get back to Hobie to see Augie, but I needed time to think about the best way to approach it. I didn’t really know him well enough to point-blank ask if his family was involved in some kind of tax scam or corporate fraud. And I wasn’t sure Augie would even know if they were. Maybe I’d begin by asking him about the properties in Hobie and whether or not he knew who owned them.
First, I had to get on the treadmill or lift the hell out of some weights before I thought I’d be calm enough to sit in the truck for a couple of hours. Luckily, the security company had a huge training gym on the premises.
Just as I rounded the corner toward the locker rooms, I looked up and saw Augie. We both stopped and stared at each other. His eyes were stormy behind the lenses of his glasses, and the tic marks of worry were out in full force over his brow.
My heart lurched. “What’s wrong?” I asked, instead of my other question, which was why the hell he was at my workplace in Dallas.
He shook his head and clenched his jaw before speaking. “Does this place have a heavy bag I can punch by any chance?”