Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Jo gazed at her wide-eyed. She had wondered why there was such an industrial style home in the middle of the simple little homes. Now, it made sense. Most likely, the homes were occupied by soldiers in the area and gave way, later on, to artists and actors. It was ironic, really, her being a pseudo actor herself.
"But, of course, I don't know for sure. When we first came, it belonged to a plumber, a very nice man, but then he went bankrupt and sold it to the Turner man." She looked at Jo with her bright, un-malicious gaze. "I must say you've got nerve, dear, taking it on. There's a lot of work needs doing in there. I went inside one day when the builders were there, and I was quite surprised to see what it was like."
"Builders?" Jo said. “What builders?”
“Well, I don't know, dear, the builders who were there. They came to make an estimate, I suppose."
Slowly, Jo put down her cup. "How long ago was this?"
"Well, I couldn't say for sure. It would be a few weeks. They weren't your builders, then?"
"No. Was there a man with them?”
"Yes. Very good-looking. No manners at all, though. Now that I come to think about it, I don't think they were there for the renovation work. I think I heard them say something about the quarries."
"Quarries? What quarries?"
"Oh, didn't you know? There used to be quarries under this area. The whole place is built on a former quarry. And now everyone who buys a house has to fill in the galleries under their property." Her attention sharpened. "You mean you didn't know?"
A sliver of ice was sliding down Jo’s back. "No, I had no idea."
"Oh, dear. That's going to cost you a pretty penny!"
"Yes, I expect it is."
"Oh, dear. The thing is, they won't give you a building permit, otherwise. They've been tightening up a lot. There's a man on the next street who tried to get away without doing the work, but they made him do it anyway, and he'd finished renovating by then, and it cost him a fortune. I was surprised you have enclosed the outer walls before having completed that work. Very unusual.”
Jo left soon after that. When Sarah had shut the door behind her, Jo had stood in her garden to gather her scattered wits. It hit her like a ton of bricks. This is what they had been planning. It made sense now. Accept the offer, get unrecorded cash in hand and then wait for her to balk and try to unload it back to them for a fraction of what it cost her. Line up new buyers to step in when she was out of the picture.
She could not stop shaking. Were they not required to disclose this? Why had she been so eager to sign on the dotted line without so much as a property evaluation. She had not needed one since she had not required a bank loan for purchase. It was all perfectly legal.
Jo was livid. The next day was Monday. After a sleepless night, she awoke to feeling like the world was ending. This would eat away at a good chunk of her payment from King. It wouldn’t break her, but it would smart to lose so much money on this deal. She debated what to do.
Halfway through the afternoon, in a deliberately casual tone, she called Trey and asked him what he knew about filling in quarries. He said he knew nothing but agreed to look into it. She didn't mention the implications for our project. When he found out the cost, he would work them out for himself.
On Tuesday, she called Turner’s office and asked to speak with him. She was surprised when he took her call.
“Hello, Jo. How are you?” he asked.
"I had an interesting weekend," she said. "I went down to the new place and met one of my new neighbors and learned a few things."
"Oh yes?" he said.
"I learned that before I'm allowed to renovate, I have to pay to fill in the quarries beneath it.”
There was a pause.
"Yes, I believe there are some restrictions concerning the quarries."
"On top of that, I understand that your brother has been visiting the house with builders."
"What?"
"Would you mind telling me exactly what's going on?"
There was a short silence. Then he said, "I can't talk now. May I stop by later tonight?"
I had no desire to see him in the flesh. "I suppose so."
"What time would be convenient?"
"How about nine?"
"Fine." She hung up without another word.
When the doorbell rang later that evening, she was on the phone with King checking in from his trip. She found herself unloading on him, telling him all that happened.
“I can’t believe Paul would do that. Saul, yes, but not Paul. He’s an asshole, but not a crook,” he was saying.