Double Dealing (2013) by Linda Cajio

spite of his disappointment that Rae had gone to bed, Jed smiledas the strong bitter aroma of hot coffee reached him.
    “Will you be needing anything else, sir?”
    “No, thanks.” A question that had begun to intrude into his thoughts earlier surfaced again. “Burrows? You’ve been with Merriman for a long time, haven’t you?”
    The man stopped rearranging the sugar bowl and creamer and straightened. “Forty-three years, sir. I … entered his service during the war.”
    “The estate was his home for even longer than that, wasn’t it? He told me he’d bought it in the thirties.”
    “That is correct, sir.”
    He looked around the large high-ceilinged room. The deeply polished wood peeping out from under a magnificent Persian carpet was probably the original flooring. Heavy sky-blue velvet curtains were pulled back from the tall narrow windows, and all the walls were wainscotted in glossy white paneling. The carved molding around the ceiling, fireplace, and doors was still intact and probably dated back to before the Revolutionary War. Even without the antique furnishings, the room was stunningly beautiful. He shook his head and asked, “Then why would he want to see it torn up for condos?”
    “I couldn’t say, sir.”
    Professional poker players showed more expression than Burrows did. His features stayed as formally blank as Jed had ever seen them. So much for trying to get an answer out of Burrows, he thought.
    Once Burrows had left the room, Jed sipped hiscoffee. It had a soothing aftertaste, and he realized there was an added warmth to the brew that spread down his throat and into his belly. He sipped again, trying to identify it. Whiskey! From its smoothness, he judged it was probably aged Irish whiskey. Leaning back on the plush sofa, he rolled a third sip around his tongue, letting the alcohol permeate his senses for a few moments. He swallowed and grinned, thinking that while the house symbolized wealth and elegance, Burrows made living in it luxurious. Managers of five-star hotels could have taken lessons from the man.
    Sighing, he reached over and picked up the reports. Just after dinner, he’d taken over the room to read them yet again, hoping he’d find something to indicate a viable property elsewhere. He hadn’t found one—not yet—but he had found a puzzling little fact. If the figures were correct for the various developed properties the company had looked at, then Merriman had agreed to sell for a good deal less than the estate was worth. Jed knew he’d negotiated a very good price for the estate, but he’d never realized before just how good. He remembered how eager Merriman had seemed about the deal—almost gleeful—and how he’d insisted on a fast sale. Jed knew what he’d told his boss, Henry, had been true: Merriman would have gone even lower. Merriman had always been eccentric, but nobody had ever called him foolish. He wondered if the old man had baited a hook in a calculated maneuver guaranteed to reel in Atlantic. But why? And if he just wanted to get rid of the place, why deed it over to Rae? Healready had a buyer. There was no explanation for Merriman’s crazy actions, Jed admitted, except his finally going “ ’round the bend” and realizing it afterward.
    Suddenly feeling more tired than before, he glanced down at his nearly empty cup and chuckled. Burrows certainly didn’t fool around when he decided someone ought to be in bed. He began stacking the reports into a neat pile, deciding to take yet another look at them tomorrow. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone had somehow been suckered by a crazy old man.
    After returning the coffee tray to the kitchen, he slowly climbed the back stairs to the second floor. He stopped in front of the room Burrows had told him was Rae’s. The temptation to open the door and enter was overwhelming, but he steeled himself to continue down the hallway to the trophy room. He crept inside and discovered Michael had