“I haven’t. I only found it recently.”
“And instead of sending a screenshot directly to Riggieri, you decided to hide it under your mattress? What was your plan, dude?”
I fully intended to chuck the document in a bonfire and not mention it to another living soul, but I haven’t had the chance to do it without being seen. Knowing the campers, at least one of them would be curious about my kindling. Not that I can admit any of that to Matt.
A projectile flies toward us and pelts Matt right between the eyes, quickly followed by a second one that hits the breast pocket of his jacket.
Matt eyes them with vengeful fury. “What in the hell was that?”
“Foam-tipped arrows. No harm, no foul.”
“This suit is Armani, dude.”
I move to dust the dirt from his jacket, but he smacks my hand away.
“I think you’ve lost your mind since you’ve been here, you know that? And you’re going to lose the partnership too.”
Cricket stifles a laugh as she jogs toward us. “I’m so sorry. Are you all right?” Her question seems more directed to me.
“I’m fine.” Matt’s nose scrunches. “Are you wearing elf ears?”
“No, they’re naturally pointy.”
Now it’s my turn to stifle a laugh. I realize my mistake when I notice Matt’s scowl. Cricket and I have just done the worst possible thing to a fragile guy like Matt Lyman—we’ve bruised his ego. His shoulders square and his jaw tightens.
“You want to know why Chuck is really here? He doesn’t care about your nerd shit. He was using you to get dirt for his client. He’s been acting as a spy for someone who plans to tear this place down to the studs.”
Glaring, Cricket folds her arms. “I already know all that.”
“And now that he’s delivered that pertinent information, he’s leaving,” I interrupt.
“Like hell I am.” Matt grabs the rolled-up document from my back pocket. “If you two are so tight, then I guess he already told you about this too.” He hands the document to Cricket, and I brace myself for impact.
Her expression waffles between rage and agony as she reads. “I’m going to ask you to leave now, Mr. Lyman.”
“You shouldn’t have come in the first place,” I tell him.
“Unlike you, our client’s best interest is my top priority,” Matt shoots back.
“Leave now before I call Chief Johnson,” Cricket says. “His granddaughter will be here in approximately one week, and I know he won’t be comfortable with grown men trespassing on camp property.”
“Kicking me off your land won’t make that lien go away,” Matt says. “Hope you have a good lawyer, unless you’d rather save your money and sell to LandStar now.”
My teeth clench. “Matt.” My warning tone drives him to walk backward, out of reach.
“The countdown is on, Thorpe,” he yells from a safe distance. “If you don’t take that to LandStar, then I will.”
I’m torn between racing after Matt to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid and staying here to convince Cricket I won’t do anything stupid. Rock meet hard place.
“What’s the lien?” Cricket asks. Her voice is so small, so unlike her, that my throat closes up at the sound.
“It’s when another party?—”
“No, I know what a lien is. I’m asking what this lien is, specifically.” She shakes her head. “Why didn’t I know about it? No one’s ever come to enforce it.”
“It appears to have been misfiled. It’s rare, but it happens.”
“If it was misfiled, where did you find it?”
