Page 38 of The Marine's Homecoming

I put the folder back into my office, locking it in the desk drawer, and then walk back out with every intention of making this weasel feel uncomfortable.

He sees me coming and waves his crew off. They disappear back onto the boat without a word, and Dorsey turns to face me with his hands in his pockets and that wide smile already in place.

"Mr. Maddox, good morning. Beautiful day, isn't it?"

"For what?" I stop about six feet from him and cross my arms. I'd like to punch him, but tucking my hands in my armpits stops the urges. In all my years of training, never have I ever wanted so badly to act on impulse instead of discipline.

"For work. Always work to be done, am I right?" He gestures at the crates behind him. "Festival prep never stops."

"That's a lot of festival prep." I look past him at the new crates. They’re the same heavy-gauge hardware and industrial tarps. "What's in these ones?" I nod at them, not even thinking for a second that he'll be honest with me. The man does nothing but lie.

"Sound equipment, I believe. Maybe some of the vendor booth framing. I'd have to check the manifest." He waves his hand like the details are beneath him. "My logistics team handles the specifics." I can't resist. My adrenaline is pumping so hard, Ihave to grit my teeth, but some words spill out and I don't feel bad as I watch his reaction.

"Your logistics team in Panama?"

His smile holds but his eyes go flat for just a second before the warmth floods back in. "I source materials from wherever the best price is, Luke. That's just good business. You know how it is." He speaks calmly, but he's shifty now, looking back at his boat like he lost his puppy or something.

"Well, I know how it looks." I'm not going to outright accuse him, but he isn't going to get away with this. And I need him to know that someone is watching, even if it paints a target on my back from much larger, scarier people.

"And how does it look?" He tilts his head and his tone shifts, lighter, almost playful. I recognize the move. He's trying to pull me off balance by making my concern sound like paranoia and it's not going to work.

"It looks like a lot of international freight for a small-town festival."

He chuckles and adjusts his sleeves, rolling them back in place and buttoning his cuffs. "Well, I appreciate your attention to detail. Truly… But I think we've wandered off topic." He takes a step closer and clasps his hands in front of him. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something, actually. Your property."

"What about it?" The shift of topic doesn't even throw me. Of course he's going to redirect because he knows I have him dead to rights.

"It's valuable… The stretch of coastline, the bluffs, the acreage running back toward the highway. It's a stunning piece of land, Luke. And I know it's been in your family for a long time…"

"It has," I grumble, not sure where he's going with this. I've already put him in his place once, and just because he drums up some dumb story about my father doesn’t mean I’m going to sell out.

"But it's a lot of upkeep for one man." He pauses and looks down at my leg, just for a beat, long enough to make sure I know he's looking. "Especially a man dealing with the kind of physical demands this place requires. Your father kept it up beautifully, but he had decades of practice and two good legs under him. I don't mean any disrespect by that." His hands come up in false surrender with his palms out flat toward me. He meant it in utter disrespect.

The man is openly insulting me to my face so I'll react.

My hands curl into fists at my sides and I keep them there. "None taken."

"I'd like to make you an offer on the property. A generous one. Enough to set you up somewhere more manageable, maybe closer to town where the terrain is flatter and the maintenance is lighter. Your father was already on board with this. I'm sure he'd want you to respect that." I doubt my father ever looked this man in the eye once.

"I'm not selling."

"I think you should consider it?—"

"I have considered it and the answer is still no." No way in hell, not now, not ever. I will not sell off my property to anyone, letalone a viper who intends to bury this town in crime. God only knows what sort of evil is being leaked into our country at his hands.

His plastic smile stays put, but I see the violence in his eyes he's trying to hide from me. "That's your prerogative, of course. I just hate to see a young man struggle with something that could be so easily resolved."

"I appreciate the concern, Mr. Dorsey, but I'm doing just fine with my property and my marina. And I'd suggest that if you're looking to invest around here, you be careful about how you go about it. This town has a long memory and it doesn't take kindly to outsiders who try to take advantage of good people."

My words hit their target, and Dorsey's smile thins. He squints out at the water and then back at me, and when he speaks again his voice has shifted to a warning tone, wrapped in an air of pleasantness.

"You know, it's a funny thing about small towns," he says. "People get so attached to the way things are that they forget the world is moving forward with or without them. And when they band together to resist progress, well…" He shrugs one shoulder. "People get hurt. It's not intentional, of course. It's just the natural consequence of refusing help when it's offered. Stubbornness has a cost, Luke. It'd be a real shame if the good people of your tight-knit little community paid that cost because they couldn't see what was right in front of them."

My blood boils. I want to grab him by his pressed collar and ask him whether he'd like to find out firsthand what a man with a limp can do when someone threatens the people he cares about. But I don't move. I stand exactly where I am and I let theadrenaline course through my body until it wears itself out in my smile.

This has to be done the right way. Rico's evidence is locked in my desk. Hannah needs to see it. The authorities need to receive it. And Dorsey needs to believe he's still operating in the dark until the moment the walls close in on him.

So I nod at him and act as nonchalant as I can. "Have a good day, Mr. Dorsey."