plate of doughnuts. An iced pink doughnut with sprinkles sang out to Brenna’s growling stomach, reminding her she had skipped lunch. Before she could take the doughnut, Mr. Gambit cleared his throat and slammed his briefcase onto the table with a loud thump. Brenna brought her hand back to her lap as if she had touched a hot element, and peered at Mr. Gambit.
“Miss Ravenwood,” Mr. Gambit spoke while pulling a huge pile of papers out of the briefcase.
“Mr. Gambit, I apologize for being so late.” Gambit didn’t acknowledge her apology. He placed the stack of papers in front of him on the table and gestured with his plump round hand for Brenna to stand and pick them up. She reluctantly pushed her chair back, making a grinding sound on the wooden floor and picked up the papers and studied them. She couldn’t believe her eyes. The paper on top of the huge pile displayed what they were willing to pay for Brenna’s land; five hundred thousand big ones. Brenna’s mouth hung open. Why were they willing to pay so much?
“You’ll see that we have offered you a very generous sum, Miss Ravenwood,” Mr. Gambit said.
“Yes, v-very generous.” Brenna tried to quell the butterflies rising in her stomach.
“Now if you’ll just look at the next page and sign on the dotted line everything will be final,” Gambit ordered.
“Actually, I decided this morning that I was going to visit Oakwood before I make any final decisions.” Brenna’s voice was quiet and shaky. Hector stood and slammed both fists down on the table.
“What? You never mentioned this before! You can’t do this now!” he screamed.
Brenna gasped. “Mr. Hector, there is no need to be so childish. I want to see the place once before I make such a big decision. I just want to spend a week there…”
“One week? Are you crazy?” Hector pointed at Brenna. “I will call you in two days on this cell phone.” Hector slid a phone across to Brenna who had never owned a one before. “You will make your decision then. We cannot wait a week. I’ve got the bulldozers ready to clear the land. Do not disappoint me; you do not want to see me mad.”
Brenna thought he was probably right if he wasn’t mad right now, she didn’t want to know what he was like when he was angry.
“Very well, Hector I will give you my decision in two days,” Brenna said, handing the papers back to Mr. Gambit.
As she approached the door Hector hissed her name. “You’re wasting everybody’s time, you know. There’s nothing for you there. If you’re hoping for some sort of family connection, you’ll be disappointed.”
“I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to have a look first.”
“You know the land is haunted.”
“What?”
“I’ve done research. Women were burned in those woods. Probably your ancestors. Do you think that’s going to be a nice atmosphere for you?”
The skin on her palms clammed up. Hector didn’t appear to be finished. “I’ve seen your shop. You’re into that mumbo jumbo stuff. You should know there’s nothing good for you waiting in Oakwoods.”
“Even if any of that is true, I’d still rather see for myself.”
“One more thing, Brenna, I always get my way.”
Brenna returned to her car, happy to leave the towering building behind, still hearing Hector’s scratchy voice rattling around in her head. If he was so convinced the land was haunted, why did he want it so bad? It could be an up and coming area. Maybe five hundred big ones was too cheap. More research was in order. Much more research.
Brenna sped along the highway, weaving her way through the traffic. She arrived home and pulled into her driveway. She grinned. Tiddles peered at her with his flat face pressed against an upstairs window. His wide yellow eyes were little moons that lovingly watched as Brenna moved to the front door. He dropped out of sight.
Brenna heard a crash against the door and slowly opened it, looking behind the door. A dazed Tiddles stared up at her. “Tiddles, not again,” Brenna said as she bent down and stroked him. He rolled over and showed her his fluffy stomach. She rubbed his tummy and he purred in return. Once she was sure he was satisfied, she headed to the kitchen. Her throat was dry from the nerve-wracking meeting. It felt like she had helped herself to a bucket of sand. Tiddles weaved between her feet as she headed to the fridge. Just as