Ms. Sayles was waiting for him near the steps outside the long row of white condos with their matching maroon doors and shutters. “Good afternoon, Mr. Rutledge.”
“Ms. Sayles.”
Her smile was warm, and she gestured toward the shallow steps. “I think you’ll be pleased with what I’m about to show you.”
“Do you mind if I take pictures? Since Mr. Burke can’t be here, I want him to be able to see this.”
“Normally this is something we try to discourage, but in this case, I agree it’s a very good idea.”
He took out his phone and began snapping away. “It’s got nice curb appeal,” he was willing to admit. On the small patch of green right outside was a young Japanese maple, no more than five feet high. It looked pretty now; it would look even prettier when it matured.
“Now, this condo is thirty-
