“Meaning Walz is likely to welch on the deal?”
“Not if he gets what he wants, War.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Well, in that case, we may see fireworks. I have a hunch—”
Mr. Livingston left his remark unfinished, for Jack flashed him a warning glance. Jarrett Walz had just come into the dining room. Crossing over to the Scouts’ table, he sat down.
“Well, friends,” he began, “I’ve made a few inquiries. The outcome is just about what I expected.”
“Craig Warner doesn’t live here?” Ken asked quickly.
“He did live here years ago. Then he moved north. Three years ago, he died of pneumonia.”
“Craig Warner’s dead?” War echoed flatly.
“Yes. It’s disappointing but, frankly, I expected it.”