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“So am I supposed to chase down whoever carried it off?” Julian spat.
“No,” the man answered calmly. “But you’re required to fabricate a new one, based on what the old one would’ve measured. Set that into place, along with—”
“None of this was on inspector Sinclair’s checklist!” I said loudly. “This is all new stuff! It’s not on any of the paperwork I’ve been given.”
“Then you’ve been missing a few things,” the inspector said calmly. His face looked almost apologetic, but not quite. “It could be Sinclair’s fault, or a mix-up at a higher level.”
I was sunk. I barely had enough resources to finish the job. Anything extra would be—
“Perhaps you should better familiarize yourself with the requirements for your permit,” the man sighed wistfully.
My new lover stepped in front of me, his hands curling into the beginnings of fists.
“And maybe you should make an appointment next time,” the mason growled. “Instead of trespassing.”
The inspector eyed Julian up and down before waving one hand dismissively. “Perhaps so. Nonetheless, these things need to get done.”
“They do, huh?” Julian snarled.
The man standing across from us nodded. “Stipulation of ownership dictates the entire checklist be completed by the end date filed with the county clerk.”
The end date. Only a few weeks away…
“Or what?” asked Julian crossly.
Thomas Burrell, Midlothian County inspector, smiled for the first time. He looked back at us and simply shrugged.
“Or the property goes back up for auction.”
Thirteen
MADISON
The next two days were awkward, to say the least. I tried to do everything I normally did. I brought the guys drinks, and this time, sandwiches as well. They smiled and thanked me as they always did, but they still seemed a little distracted.
And not one of them mentioned anything about what had happened between us.
That part, I thought, was more than a little odd. It was almost like they were avoiding the subject. Ignoring the elephant in the room. Instead, they ate and drank and went right back to work, all three of them.
I spent a few minutes thanking Julian for backing me up. It had done little good as far as the inspector was concerned, but the two of us walked the castle grounds together, going over all the extraneous work we’d just been handed.
“This courtyard stuff is complete bullshit,” he said, pulling his shirt down over his gorgeous but dirty frame. I wasn’t sure if he was doing it for my benefit or not. “They never said anything about the flagstones.”
“They never said anything about the gatehouse either,” I said. “Or what was it called… a keystone?”
We decided I’d take a trip into town, to see if I could appeal the changes. They weren’t on the initial list of work to be done, and therefore I could argue that they weren’t required when my uncle first bought the property.
“At the very least, you should demand an extension,” Julian pointed out. “They can’t just add a bunch of last-minute tasks and expect the timeline to remain the same.”
He was right of course. But down at the county offices, I was like a fish out of water. I knew no one, and almost nothing about the laws governing the rights of ownership to the historic property I’d inherited. To them, I was a clueless American. Someone who was in way over her head, which of course I was.
> I tossed and turned that night, when I should’ve slept like a baby. Instead of catching up on some much-needed sleep, I had a hundred different things running through the corridors of my mind.
The looming inspections. My lack of money. The guys, somehow still working for free.
And then there was that person… or thing. Or whatever it was. Way down in the field, out by the treeline.
I checked for it several times a night, before going to bed. Sometimes I looked quickly, not wanting to see. Other times I had to work up the courage. Creep hesitantly to the window, and peer through the curtains.
