Chris didn't wait to begin complaining, his mouth open and his brain running through it even before he settled in the chair I'd just vacated.
"This is all Olivia's fault," he groused, smacking the top of Dad's desk with an open hand. "Three of our local owners are listing because their water quality has been compromised by fuel spills near the marina." Yikes, that wasn't good to hear. "Wanda found evidence someone's been dumping garbage illegally just down from the harbor. And another visiting cottager at one of my rentals just reported valuables missing. This has to stop, John. Our town is being ruined by all this new activity."
Dad's expression had leveled out, no sign of our previous conversation showing either on his face or in the sound of his voice as he responded.