Johnny laughed. “He’s in charge of keeping us within budget and on schedule, among other things.”

“Where did you end up putting the washers and dryers?” In my development, there was a common laundry room on the ground floor of each of the buildings.

“Each floor has three washers and dryers each. More luxurious than hauling your clothes on the elevator, but not so fancy that it drives prices sky-high.”

“Clever fellow, that Finn. What’s he like as a boss?” The answer wasn’t relevant to the story, but it was important to me for some reason.

“Reasonable but tough. He runs a tight ship while acknowledging we’re human beings with lives outside of this site.”

“Mini Andrew even lets us have snack time and pee breaks,” Emma, who was digging soil a few feet away, piped in.

My head drew back quickly. “Is that rare in your line of work?”

Her cheeks dimpled. “I’m teasing. Finn’s all right. He doesn’t treat the job like a hierarchy, expecting us to kiss the feet of His Royal Highness.” She shrugged. “I’ll be sad to see him go.”

I frowned. “Is he going somewhere?”

“His ‘passion project’ awaits,” Dean said, using air quotes.

Vick joined us. “Once The Hollows is up and running, he wants to move on to one of his boss’s low-income housing projects.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Really?” My research hadn’t disclosed any interest from Hanes in low-income housing.

“Finn volunteered for Habitat for Humanity for years and then worked for them as a paid construction manager before Andrew Hanes scooped him up.”

“Color me intrigued.” My cheeks warmed as I realized I’d said that out loud. To avoid making eye contact with Vick, who was studying me curiously, I bent over and pretended to be engrossed in the floor plan.

But I made a mental note to ask Finn about his experience with Habitat for Humanity later. It didn’t align with the backstory I’d imagined for him, which I supposed was why clichés like “Don’t judge a book by its cover” existed. It was time to move on, at least for now. More knowledge about Finn wasn’t going to get me the story.

With renewed focus, I asked if any of the crew were working on other properties for Hanes in town. When all answered in the negative, I took it up a notch. “Do you know if he has any other potential investments here?”

Among a chorus of nos and shaking heads, my phone rang—an unknown number with an 845 area code. I stepped to the side. “Hello?”

A deep voice replied, “Hi. Is this Adina?”

“Yes, it is. Who am I speaking to?”

“My name’s Garrett. You left me a message last night.”