Page 74

Silence. Outside, the wind rustles through the trees. The old house creaks.

Gabriel closes his book. Carefully. As if he needs something to do with his hands.

“I was a wealthy man,” he says.

“I’ve gathered.”

“Very wealthy.”

“Again. The gold bars were a pretty big clue.”

He doesn’t smile. So I stop joking.

“I owned factories. Rail interests. Land. A great deal of land.”

I wait.

“There was a parcel adjoining one of my industrial properties. I wanted it for an expansion.”

“And?”

“The owner refused to sell.”

“A woman?”

He nods. “She was a widow. The property had belonged to her husband’s family for generations.”

Something cold settles in my stomach.

“What happened?”

“I offered her a generous sum. Far more than the land was worth.”

“But she said no.”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t like that.”

His jaw tightens. “No.”

I wait.

He looks toward the windows. “I was not accustomed to being refused, April.”

I can believe that.

“I believed that if I offered enough money, anyone could be persuaded to part with anything.”

“Even their home?”

He closes his eyes. “Yes.”

Oh, Gabriel.

“What did you do?”

“I acquired the surrounding parcels. Then I used my influence to have the access road condemned.”