Page 62 of No White Knight


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Before I came back to town, they’d form a small crew to raise a barn or take on odd jobs. Now I’ve got ninety percent of the local guys employed on my crew, and they’re happy for the work.

So that knocks competitors off the list.

Which means my chief suspect is somebody furious at me for getting in the way.

One guess.

A good old banker like Declan Eckhard wouldn’t stoop to arson, would he?

He’d besmirch his company’s good name.

Still, nothing else adds up, even if Eckhard seems tricky to pin down.

And I’ve got more shit to worry about than whodunnit. I’ve also got to pick up the pieces, pay my crew, and start over.

I’ve already filed my insurance claim, but that’ll only cover part of it. They’re going to want to investigate and make sure I didn’t set fire to my own stuff so I could take the money and bolt from a failing business.

I don’t have time to wait for that.

Looks like I’m selling the Benz sooner.

Which is how I find myself in Spokane for the day.

There’s a car dealership in Heart’s Edge, but not one big enough to pony up the kind of cash I want for a Mercedes-Benz that’s less than a year old and has less than ten thousand miles on it.

I think I might’ve bamboozled the car dealer in Spokane with a little slick talk, though.

I walk away with a decent five-figure chunk of cash, plus a trade-in on one of those sturdy old Ford pickups that doesn’t ever die even when you try to kill it.

Good for hauling shit around.

Not a bad deal, and now I can pay my crew.

Replacing my equipment on the fly, though…that’s harder.

Time to bite the bullet.

I wince, pulling into Confederated Bank & Credit Union.

I don’t want to be here.

As far as I’m concerned, between Declan and Reid harassing Libby, these people are the goddamn enemy. But I need a small business loan, and maybe if I play nice, I can coax them into taking some heat off her.

I won’t lie.

I’m also curious about Declan and hoping to get a glimpse of him in his natural habitat and see if I can figure him out.

There’s no sign of the rat when I push the glass doors open and step into the tidy little space.

It’s an open floor. There used to be an ice cream shop here, and funny thing is it’s right next door to the Menagerie.

The place actually got fixed up before the vet practice did, though I didn’t know who’d be buying it out and moving in once we were done with our repair.

The place looks patched together, redecorated, but serviceable.

Bright, too.

Somebody put some big ass bulbs in overhead.

I’m squinting after coming in from the natural sunlight outside. Not so much that I don’t recognize Reid Cherish behind one of the desks. He taps away diligently at a laptop with his posture so straight I think he’s got a yardstick shoved down the back of his pants.

When he sees me, his lips turn down at the corners.

Hello to you, too, pal.

I guess the best customer service smile he can manage is forcing them back up into a flat, neutral line as he stands to intercept me, stretching out one hand.

“Mr. Silverton,” he says smoothly. “What can I do for you today? Are you here to insult me again?”

I grind my teeth.

Yeah.

This stings like a cigarette burn to the nipple, swallowing my pride to ask this guy for a loan.

I glance at the other desks, but the people behind them suddenly seem extremely interested in what they’re doing—and not in meeting my eyes.

Goddammit.

Sighing, I shake Reid’s hand.

“I’m here on business today, not busting your balls.” I say. “Relax. Looks like you’re working, so how about we keep it professional?”

“Certainly,” he says, like it’s perfectly natural, and gestures toward the chair opposite his desk as he takes his seat again. “Please, sit. Tell me what I can do for you today.”

I settle down in the chair and tell myself to relax.

We can do this real friendly-like, and then I can get the fuck out.

For a second, I hesitate, but there’s no use in prolonging my torture.

“I’m here about a small business loan,” I grind out.

Reid studies me, his eyes half-hidden behind the overhead lights reflecting off his glasses. “I assume this has to do with the recent fire damage to your worksite and equipment. Pity, that.”

I smile, though it feels bitter. “Hardly here a month and you’re already tuned in to the town gossip mill, huh?”

“Word about disasters gets around.” His brows knit together. “Rather often in Heart’s Edge, it seems. This town has broken quite a few mirrors.”

“You don’t seem like the type to believe in superstitions.” I can’t help barking out a laugh.

“We all have our foibles.” He adjusts his glasses. “How much are you looking for?”

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