I do what I can, but I’m better at getting the stories than snapping the photos to go with them. Even the one I snapped of my mystery man was blurry. I have to admit that I was a bit disappointed when I realized I hadn’t gotten a good pic of him. I guess the one in my memory will have to suffice for now.
“Fine, but if he ends up dead you better not come snooping around my Big.” I snort a laugh. It never gets old hearing her call Brigger Douglas that. The man is three times her size and covered in ink. He works at a bar as a bouncer. I’d bet a hundred bucks that he lives around here because he’s trying to lay low. He looks as though he’s had an interesting past.
“Deal,” I agree.
I check the time before grabbing my stuff. “Let’s roll before they close.” I power off my computer. The thing is older than I am. I only use it when I’m here. I give Daisy a wave, letting her know I’m heading out. She is the other reporter here.
“Where is your man?” I ask once we hit the sidewalk and begin to head down the street to the real estate office.
“Said he has stuff to handle.” She shrugs. I glance over at her. I have no doubt that man of hers is full of all kinds of news stories, but I never go there. I love Amethyst and would never do anything to mess with our friendship. She spits her gum out as we pass a trash can.
“So I’m going to say that I’m looking to buy a house?”
“Yep. That you saw the one on Secret Lane for sale a while back and wondered if it might still be on the market.”
“Why don’t you just knock on his door?” she asks. I’d given her a rundown of what happened with the handsome stranger.
“I want to be prepared before I do that. Catch him off guard.” The same way he did to me the other day.
“Why do you need to catch him off guard?”
“There might be a story there. If he thinks I’m snooping around then I might not get it.” I huff. At least I hope there’s a story there. A girl can only do so many fluff pieces in her lifetime. I need some meat between them every now and then. I’m dying for a story that has some substance.
“If you say so.” She laughs as I pull open the door to Williams Real Estate. Martha isn't behind her desk, as I knew she wouldn't be at this time. She’s over at Bela's Bakery getting her afternoon fix of sugary goodness.
The door to Williams’ office opens a second later. His eyes land right on Amethyst, going wide for a moment. She gives him a bright smile, showing off her dimples. It’s like I’m not even here.
“Hi!” she chirps. “I’m in the market for a new place.”
Williams opens his mouth and closes it. This is going even better than I thought it would. He’s going to sing like a canary if Amethyst keeps smiling at him.
“She’s interested in the place over on Secret Lane,” I throw out there to get the conversation moving. I don’t need Amethyst’s man popping up on us and carrying her out of here. He’s known to do that.
“It’s already been sold. I’m so sorry.” Williams' face drops for a moment before he recovers. “I have other places in that price range. Are you a supermodel?” he asks. I’m guessing the house on Secret Lane was not cheap by any means. It only makes me more curious about its new owner.
“Oh. I really wanted that one. Who bought it?” Amethyst actually does a little pout. I wonder if I could pull that off. My lips are already too big as it is.
“Some writer.” My ears perk up instantly. “I’m not supposed to say.” What the hell? Williams looks around the office to make sure no one else is in earshot. I almost start laughing because we’re the only ones here besides him. I elbow Amethyst in the side.
“Oh, come on. You can tell us,” she encourages him. Williams flicks his eyes over toward me. I look down at my phone in my hand, pretending I’m not paying attention.
“Corby O'Neal.” He finally gives. I can’t stop the gasp that comes from my lips.
“Glory, you better keep that between all of us. I’ll call your mama.”
“We have to go.” I ignore him, making no promises. I grab my best friend's arm, pulling her out the door with me. “Wait, take my card!” he calls after us, wanting to give her his number.
“She’s taken!” I inform him. “I might be fishing for a story but it’s not going to be your murder.” The door falls closed in his face, likely saving his life.