near the port.” She waved a hand dismissively. “I’m certain nothing I own would be of any relevance to either of them—not that I’d want them to have it. There are numerous charities who would benefit from what I have to give.”
“Understandable. Still, we should look at every possibility,” Kerri explained. “Are the warehouses you mentioned empty?”
“Oh no. They’ve never been empty. Like my father, I lease them to small businesses who need storage. The warehouses closer to the port are far more expensive. But I have to tell you, the lease value is probably less than my sister spends on handbags each year. I’m certain this is a dead end, Detective.”
Kerri didn’t doubt Ms. Taylor’s conclusion on the matter, but there had to be a reason Lana Walsh started visiting Birmingham. The possibility that she was checking up on Taylor’s assets couldn’t be dismissed out of hand.
Could a person ever be rich enough?
Kerri asked, “Do you own any other property besides the warehouses and this home?”
“I do not. I have some savings, but nothing that would impress my sister.”
“We’ll check out the warehouses,” Kerri decided. “See if any of the business owners have spoken to your sister. Would you mind giving me a list of the businesses who hold the leases?”
It was another of those long shots that cops looked into that often turned out to be nothing, but it was sometimes the one they dismissed that would have made the difference. A good cop didn’t ignore the possibilities no matter how seemingly remote. If Lana Walsh had no other connection to Birmingham, the property owned by her sister was as good a place as any to start.
“Of course.” Taylor rose and walked to the side table where the landline sat. She opened the one drawer and gathered a pad and pen.
Now that she’d thought about it, Kerri had heard something about coming expansions at Birmingport. It was remotely possible that Taylor was too easily dismissing the future value. “You own the warehouses and other land in the port area?”
“More than a hundred acres. The warehouses aren’t directly on the water, but they’re close by.” She handed the list to Kerri. “My father inherited the property from his father, who assumed ownership from his own father, but it will leave the family with me. With Asher gone, I have no reason to bother with it any longer.”
“Ms. Taylor, may we have your permission to look around the property?” They would need permission from the tenants to look inside the warehouses, but Taylor could give them permission for the property outside any locked areas.
“Why not? I’m certain it’s a waste of your time, but I’ll make a few calls and ensure that no one gives you any trouble.”
“Thank you—that would help tremendously. Would you also let me know if you hear from Asher’s parents?”
She made a harrumphing sound. “Don’t hold your breath.”
Kerri gave her a nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Falco appeared at the door. “Cross confirmed that she’d hired Barton to keep an eye on you and your home. So no worries there.”
“Thank you for letting me know,” Taylor said, looking relieved.
Before leaving, Kerri and Falco waited until Taylor had called her neighbor about the door repairs. The man was coming right over. On the sidewalk outside the Taylor home they spotted him headed that way with his toolbox in hand.
When they loaded into her Wagoneer, Kerri told Falco about the warehouses. She glanced at the view beyond the Taylor home as she pulled away from the curb. In a city expanding the way Birmingham was, you never knew what piece of property would suddenly be worth a fortune.
Birmingport Road
Birmingham, 11:30 a.m.
Kerri had been right to consider the Taylor assets. Falco had spent the time required to reach Birmingport Road searching the net and calling his sources in the property office for information about the warehouses as well as the home Taylor owned. A developer was already attempting to buy up the property in the area where she lived to tear it all down, making way for a new high-end development. The homes like Taylor’s with the city view would be the most highly sought after.
The warehouses were located south of the Birmingham port on the lower loop of the Locust Fork. The property extended across the river and deep into the woods on the other side. The warehouses stood maybe a half mile from the actual waterfront, with a strip of dense forest standing between the buildings and