We settled in his office, a bit modern for my taste but well done and after I declined coffee, I got right to the point. “I need some info about the sale of Willow Lake Lodge.”
“It sold and unfortunately not to me,” he said with a chuckle. “I would have surrounded your place with the most gorgeous townhouse and condo complex and skyrocketed your property value.”
And lost me the pleasure of the woods, a thought I kept to myself, since I figured I’d better be nice to him if I wanted information.
“My dad and I had our eyes on that property for years. My grandad told us to forget it. That we’d never get it. That Max Macgregor would have made sure the place went to family. He was right. Ian Macgregor refused every offer we threw at him. Broke my heart it did,” Burke said, resting his hand dramatically to his chest. “Why do you ask? Is your new neighbor giving you trouble and you’re looking for a way to get rid of him?”
“He’s no trouble.” Far from it, I thought. “The property sat empty for years. Why did you wait so long to go after it?”
He shrugged. “At the time Max died, I was setting off for college like you and didn’t have the inside track, but from what I know now, it was cash flow. Strathmore Builders had a lot of projects going on at that time, stretched to the limit, that later proved more than lucrative to the company. But Willow Lake Lodge is a sweet piece of property. It was worth a lot then and even more so now.” He regarded me with keen eyes. “You’re asking because of that dead guy found on the property, aren’t you?”
There’s no secrets in a small town like Willow Lake.
“What can I say? Mysteries enthrall me.”
“And you enthrall me, Pepper. When are you finally going to give in and go out with me?” He winked as if he was sure of it.
“Like I told you since high school, you’re not my type.”
He spread his arms out to his sides. “Come on, Pepper, I’m every woman’s dream.”
I smiled. “You might want to go visit Willow Lake Lodge. I’m pretty sure you’ll find every woman’s fantasy there.”
He flicked his hand as if dismissing my suggestion. “Those male cover models can’t hold a candle to me.”
“Then you knew Ian Macgregor, international book cover model, had inherited Willow Lake Lodge.”
“Damn it, Pepper, how do you do that? Get information you have no business knowing?” he asked, annoyed. I believe more with himself than me.
“I won’t tell anyone that you spilled the beans.”
“It’s my reputation, Pepper,” he warned.
“You have my word, Burke. I would never think of sullying your reputation.” You do a great job of that yourself, I thought. “Besides I was thinking of getting an estimate from Strathmore Builders for some work I want done.”
Burke eyed me skeptically. “What work?”
“My deck. Your grandfather built it for my aunt and it’s showing its age. I want a new one designed and built in the spring to enjoy next summer.”
“We can do that,” Burke said. “Actually, my grandfather loves your place and told me that any work you requested would be done under his supervision.”
“I look forward to working with him, but right now I look forward to you telling me what I assume was to be kept confidential about the sale of Willow Lake Lodge.”
He capitulated. “Strathmore Builders real estate division was in the market for property to develop here and the surrounding area. We had our legal department get in touch with the attorney for the person who had inherited it, but all discussions and possible negotiations were refused unless we agreed not to let anyone know who presently owned it. Naturally, we signed the agreement. We’ve done secret negotiations before, so it was nothing new to us.”
I filed that bit of info away in my mind.
Burke shook his head. “Ian Macgregor refused every offer we threw at him. We even offered him a premium townhouse in the complex, his choice of finishes, and no taxes on it for ten years, and he still refused.” He shook his head again. “What kind of idiot refuses such a sterling deal?”
A man who loves to wander in his own private woods. But Burke would never understand that.
“Anyway, we went back and forth since there was a mix up with some documents that suggested Ian might not be the owner of the property and I can tell you I was keeping my fingers crossed on that one, but it turned out in his favor, to my great disappointment.”
“What mix up?”
“Some document declaring Ian, Max’s heir.”
“I thought Max left the property to Ian,” I said, recalling that was what Ian had told me.
“Max left Ian all he owned, which would include Willow Lake Lodge, yet it was never mentioned in the will. Kind of odd since Max had, from what I heard, not a lot to leave him.”