Her Silent Revenge novel Chapter 42

Salem's fingers tighten around her mug. "But I'm sure his memory lives on in the flowers."

"Oh, yes, it certainly does." She clears her throat and looks back at me. "But you're here for a reason, and I won't waste more of your time. The thing is—frankly, I read about Higher Ends taking off. I really admire what you boys have done, and in such a short time, too. It's a credit to the good head on your shoulders. Delly never gets tired of mentioning it, shameless brag that she is."

I smile.

"Thanks. We try," I say.

Honestly, the compliments aren't much different from the usual spiel I get with everyone else looking to work with us. Lofty praise first, then demands.

"I've wondered for some time—although you understand I've been very taken up since my sweet Walt passed away—if you could strike gold in the Minnesota market. Luxury rentals could make a killing on the lakes, especially in the summer. The property values are unbelievable. Just imagine, cabins with all the convenience of a hotel, but fully independent, leaving you free to entertain yourself as you wish. Boating and barbecuing and walking. You pick your poison."

"Yes, I'm sure you have to live it up while it's warm with the winters you've got," I tell her. "I'd guess everything shuts down in the colder months?"

"Ah, but winter is livelier than you'd think. You've heard about the ski towns up north? Lutsen and Grand Marais and such? God, they get buried every winter, but the young, adventurous types do love it. I know my skiers, Patton. They adore luxury and convenience without anything too fussy or crowded. They want what you could offer."

My gut twists, momentarily lost for words.

I have to admit, on paper, it doesn't sound terrible.

"Not to mention the fact that these towns are such tourist traps," she continues. "The market is enormous if you target the right areas. And as a native, I know precisely where you could focus your attention. When Walt was around, we used to spend so much of our offseason tromping around up there in small towns. Summers were too busy to do anything with the seasonal business, you see, so we lived like winter birds. The choice was bundle up and explore, or spend half the winter in casinos, losing our money."

Salem glances at me.

I know she's thinking the same thing I am—there's unexpected potential here.

But right now, it's just potential. We can't get carried away.

I don't follow Evelyn's life that closely, but I'm surprised. "What condition are they in?"

She waves a hand. "Truthfully, they'll need some refurbishing. I won't lie to you. To bring them up to your immaculate standards, it would take some elbow grease. But with a little investment up front to pay the contractors, I'd be so happy to volunteer them as test cases for Higher Ends."

"I'll give it some consideration," I tell her slowly, wondering how I've shifted from a sure no to this. When did this little old lady turn into a master saleswoman? "We'll try to do our research promptly and get back to you." I glance at Salem and see she's taking notes.

Good.

I appreciate the fact that she still does it with an old-school pen and paper, which helps drive details into memory better than anything electronic.

"Thank you so much, Patton!" Evelyn spreads her arms and walks over. I submit to another crushing hug. Definitely not how these meetings normally end. "To even have this opportunity—oh, I appreciate this so much. You can't fathom how proud Walt would be."