Megan Russo, proprietor Danny read the business card she’d handed him and felt his heart downslide to somewhere in the vicinity of his gut. He sighed, a feeling of inevitable doom descending. He turned and offered the grocer a hand along with a partial introduction, knowing that prices spiraled up when people knew he was scouting for real estate. Better to fly under the radar at this point. “Danny Graham. Pleased to meet you.” “John Dennehy. Likewise.” The irritated man shrugged one shoulder west as Meggie and Ben proceeded down the tree-lined street. “They need to keep better control of Ben these days. He’s not a little kid anymore.” “Accidents happen. Is there a hotel or motel nearby?” Danny refused to get into a discussion of how the mentally challenged should be kept on a short leash. He understood their limitations better than most, and knew that community involvement was in everybody’s best interests. “In Wellsville.” The grocer jutted his chin south. “And there’s the B and B up the road.
