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The brave words echoed through his mind, but they didn’t keep him from tiptoeing his way to the end of the hallway and pressing the door open without making a sound.
In the end, it was a wasted effort.
When he passed the empty desk in the reception area, he assumed Marla Walsh was with the other employees. It wasn’t until he’d entered the large office that he realized she was standing next to Burke’s desk.
Tate frowned, his gaze running over the unwelcome intruder. She looked older than her thirty-odd years, with the first streaks of gray visible in her brown curls and her waistline at least twice the size it was in high school. A shame. She’d once been attractive enough that he’d tried to get her in the back seat of his car when Jolene wasn’t around. Now he wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole.
“What are you doing in here?”
Marla jerked, her head snapping up to reveal her startled expression. “Tate.”
He stepped forward, his brows furrowed into an annoyed frown. “I asked you a question.”
There was a short silence, as if the receptionist was considering her options, then she turned to face him, a defiant expression settling on her square face.
“Mr. Burke’s nephew is coming in today.”
Tate vaguely knew Gavin Burke. The younger man lived in Grange and ran some sort of business. Apartments? Storage units? Something like that. Nothing to do with meat.
“Why would he be coming in?”
“Mrs. Burke asked him to start sorting through the accounts.”
Tate tried to keep his expression from revealing his concern. That was the last thing he wanted.
“Why?”
“Obviously, she hopes she can sell the place. If not . . .” Marla shrugged. “I suppose it will close down.”
“Krystal is selling?” Tate made a strangled sound. He’d been so worried about the past, he hadn’t considered the future. What would happen to Pike if the plant closed? How many citizens would lose their jobs? He didn’t have an actual empathy for those who might potentially be without a paycheck, but he had enough political savvy to know that unemployed people weren’t happy. And that they might blame him for their misfortune.
He cleared his throat. “You’re sure Krystal plans to sell the plant?”
“ASAP.” A cruel smile curved Marla’s lips. She was taking pleasure in his discomfort. “Her words, not mine.”
Realizing he was giving away more than he wanted, Tate squared his shoulders. “That doesn’t explain what you’re doing in here.”
It was Marla’s turn to look uneasy. She waved a vague hand toward the box set on the floor next to the desk.
“I thought I would collect Mr. Burke’s things to make room for the new Mr. Burke.”
Did he believe her? Not entirely. Marla Walsh was sneaky as hell. She always had been. Stealing lunch money out of desks in elementary school and telling lies to get kids in trouble. Right now, however, Tate was only interested in getting rid of her.
“You’ll have to do that later.”
She glared at him. “Why?”
“Because I want to look through this stuff.”
“Why?”
Tate wanted to strangle the stupid woman. Unfortunately, there were at least forty workers on the other side of the connecting door who would no doubt hear her screams.
“This is a crime scene.”
Marla’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you said Mr. Burke’s death was an accident.”
“It was.”
