is money."
"I see. And how long before this project is completed?"
"Well, phase one should be well under way soon-that
means we hope to have sewer, water, streets, and utilities
installed this winter. Then actual housing construction will
start in early spring. But our associate developer will begin
promoting and selling lots immediately. Any of your rich
California friends interested in a vacation home?"
She ignored that and continued to question him about lot
sizes, selling prices, amenities, and any other information
that might pertain to those interested in investing in the
development. And with congeniality, he carefully answered
each question. Then finally she glanced up from her notes
and looked him straight in the eye. "And where, may I ask,
will Mr. Westerly reside once the bulldozers start tearing up
his farm?"
Rick pulled his head back and scowled darkly. "Well, that
wouldn't be my problem, now would it?"
"But you've led him to believe that he can continue living
there-"
38Melody Carlson
"I don't know where he got that fool notion. His house
will be the first thing to go down."
Maggie could stand it no longer. She felt her nostrils flare
as she snapped off the recorder and rose to her feet. "I think
that's more than enough for my article, Rick!" She moved
quickly to the front door, holding it wide open and nodding
as if she had suddenly gone mute.
Once on the porch, Rick turned to her and said, "You
better not make us look bad in your paper, Maggie. This
development has the potential to help this whole sorry town
get back on its feet. I don't think the local businesses will take
it kindly if you do anything to discourage growth and devel-
opment of this kind." Then he grinned slyly. "And anyway,
we all know that you and the paper are pro-development-
you made that real clear last summer. You wouldn't change
your stance now, would you?"
She pressed her lips tightly together and, without
answering, solidly slammed the door almost in his face. She
knew it was childish and rude, but she couldn't help herself.
"I've got everything I need now," she said out loud as she
marched back into her office and flipped on her computer
switch, waiting irritably for the machine to warm up. Then
she furiously began writing her story, pounding on the key-
board as if it were personally responsible for this whole hor-
rible affair. Only after nearly an hour did she pause long
enough to phone home and let Audrey know that she'd been
sidetracked at the office. By the time she finished her piece
and was on her way home, she knew that it was one of the
finest stories she'd ever written-full of passion and heat and