"Most of it is restoration work, but some of it's original."
"You're a regular encyclopedia," I told him.
He chuckled. "That's what my brothers say too. Although they usually use words like 'nerd' and 'geek.'"
"Same thing," I said, trying to imagine what the house would have looked like before it was on a sealed road, other houses lights shining through the trees. No plumbing, no electricity. No Wi-Fi. I couldn't decide if that sounded good or hellish. A bit of both, I guessed. There were upsides and downsides to everything.
"How come the Rivers family don't own the place anymore?" I asked.
"The usual," Noah said. "Debt. Old man Rivers was a gambling man. He lost it all. Had to sell up. The place was bought by the Clarksons. Then the Kohls bought it a couple of decades ago."
"How do you know all of this?" I glanced over at him.
"This is my area of expertise. Modern archaeology is fascinating."
"If you say so." I shrugged a shoulder. "You're the guy they call in when they want to renovate anything to make sure it's notbuilt on any old graves?" I knew better than to piss off the dead. Did I believe in ghosts? Hell yeah, but don't tell anyone.
"Don't want anyone to end up in a horror movie," he said. "But yeah, that's exactly what I do. Make sure we respect the past."
"I bet builders hate your guts." People didn't like being told what they could and couldn't do, especially with what they considered their own property.
"I've had my share of death threats," he agreed.
"Some of them come from people who aren't me," Urban said, stepping into the shadows with us.
"Ignore him, he really is fond of me," Noah said.
"Let me guess, he works in urban planning," I said, keeping my expression deadpan.
"As a matter of fact…" Noah said with a laugh.
I snorted. "You guys work together a lot?" I leaned against the tree trunk, the branches swaying overhead in the breeze. The air smelled of salt and smoke from fires burning inside the houses, keeping sensible people warm.
"More than some people would consider healthy, but we're doing some good in the world," Noah said. "I guess that makes it worth it. What about you? You're working with our brother."
"Same," I said. "More than what's healthy, but we're making a difference."
I didn't mention that we were sharing a girlfriend. Chances were they picked up on that vibe hours ago. They didn't need to know the details of our personal life.
"How the fuck did you end up with masks over your faces, working at that auction?”
They glanced at each other.
"It's taken us a year to get that deep on the inside," Urban said. "I wanted to stab every motherfucker in that room."
"Except Forrest." Forrest had his moments, but I objected to him being stabbed.
Urban hummed, but it didn't sound like he was changing any part of his declaration. If Forrest was one of those entitled motherfuckers, he'd be just as dead as the rest of them. Brother or no brother.
I didn't like the guy, but I liked the way he thought. Relationships didn't matter when someone was an evil prick.
"Why the masks?" I asked. "And don't say, 'Why not the masks?'"
Noah chuckled. "To add to the mystery. Not knowing who we are somehow gives them some sort of idea that they're anonymous. It's a psychological thing. Sometimes we wear them, sometimes not."
It didn't make much sense to me, but I saw no point in arguing with them, so I didn't.
"You scared the shit out of Sable's friend Savannah," I said instead.
