She glanced at the figure, then at him. “This is less than you originally offered.”
“That’s because the cost of demolition and construction has gone up in the past six months. My investors—”
She rose from the table, picking up Finn’s offer as she did. “You’re wasting my time.”
“Wait.” He tore another sheet from the notepad, scribbled on it and seemed to hesitate before he wrote down another figure and slowly shoved it across the table in her direction. “That’s the best I can do.”
She glanced at the number. “Sorry.”
“Seriously? You got a higher offer than that?” Devlin sounded astounded. “Well, I suppose Finn is in a position to lose money to get what he wants.” He met her gaze, the accusation clear in it. “You have to wonder what he really wants out of this deal.”
Casey had wondered the same thing, but it made her angry that he would suggest it. “Devlin, the way you stalled, I would have taken less from anyone as long as it wasn’t you.”
“Casey, I had to talk to all the investors and—”
“You thought you were the only buyer and you could get the hotel and property for nothing. That’s on you, Devlin. I’m sure your investors will understand.”
“I wasn’t stalling. I knew I was coming for the reunion. I just thought we’d do it then. I didn’t see what the urgency was.”
“I would imagine you wouldn’t.” No one knew why she wanted the hotel sold so badly. But she feared they would find out. She started out of the kitchen.
“So what’s Finn going to do with the hotel?” Devlin called after her.
“I don’t know, but then again, I don’t care.”
That wasn’t true, Casey thought as she headed for the stairs. When she’d come here, she’d only wanted the place sold and the hotel razed. At the time, she’d thought it would wipe out all the bad memories. No more haunted hotel. No more thoughts of Megan.
That was before she’d met Finn. Before this reunion that brought everyone back. Before Casey had begun to realize that her grandmother had been right. She wouldn’t be at peace as long as Megan’s killer was still out there. As long as she was under suspicion. As long as she had something to hide.
She hated feeling so off balance. She’d been sure of what she wanted when she’d come here. Now... Last night as she’d showered, standing under the warm spray, she’d finally felt herself relax for the first time all day. She’d tried to forget everything, especially Finn. Never had she thought she’d find a man like him in one of the hotel showers.
Was she really up to facing the past? Facing Megan’s ghost? This was what her grandmother had wanted and what she’d forced Casey to promise. Because her grandmother had known she was hiding something?
If Anna Crenshaw could have, she would have conjured up Finn, dangling him in front of her, tempting her, seducing her into doing exactly what she had wanted. Even from the grave, she felt as if her grandmother was still guiding her to do the right thing.
Did Finn suspect that she wasn’t telling him everything? The worst part was that she liked him. He was true to his word, giving her an offer first thing this morning—just as he’d promised. She’d enjoyed their dinner together. She’d found that she enjoyed him in spite of originally thinking he was delusional and dangerous. She still thought he was dangerous—but only because she could see how easy it might be to fall for him. The man was so darned likable.
Finn had spent months in an abandoned hotel trying to solve his old girlfriend’s murder. What woman wouldn’t find that strange but also charming? The man had his... attributes, that was for sure. She’d seen them, and her body had responded against her will.
The thought sent a shiver through her. It had been so long since she’d met someone who’d spurred anything close to desire in her. But she was human. And Finn was all wonderfully male. She couldn’t banish those thoughts any more than she could thoughts of Finn out of bed as well.
While searching the hotel for clues to Megan’s murder, he’d found Anna’s journals. What he’d really been looking for, though, was Megan’s diary. He’d obviously been hoping that Megan would provide the answers he’d needed. He still did.
Megan’s diary had haunted Casey for ten years. At sixteen, all she’d wanted was to find it and destroy it—to protect herself. Back then, she hadn’t been able to imagine anything worse than someone finding the diary and reading the lies Megan had written about her. Megan had taunted her with the awful things she’d said she’d put in that diary about her. Now she wondered if Megan had lied. What if there had been nothing about her in it?
That had never crossed her mind, not ten years ago, not when Megan had seemed hell-bent on destroying her.
Now she felt sick. What if Megan had written about the car wreck, written the truth? Or realized who it was who was stalking her? The name of her killer could have been in that book. If the diary had been found, all of this could have been over years ago, the killer caught and behind bars.
Her heart banged against her ribs. Any chance of finding those answers was lost. No one would ever know what Megan had written. Because the diary was gone.
Casey swallowed, remembering the terror she’d felt the day she’d found it. She knew what would happen if she got caught in Megan’s room—let alone with her diary.
She hadn’t had much time. Maybe if she had, she would have read some of it. Probably not. She’d been too scared she would get caught. Even if Megan hadn’t killed her, she
