A Different Light

by Mariah Stewart

  “That’s all right.” He smiled. “I think I’d just as soon poke around a little on my own.”

  “Well, then, I’ll call Stafford’s office in the morning and make sure that he and his staff give you full access to everything.” Looking very pleased, Lydia took a sip of wine.

  “Don’t bother, Mom. I don’t want anyone to make a fuss. I’ll just pop in when I get there and see what I can find. …”

  “JEFF SAID THAT YOU SHOULD form an agency within the city to deal with HUD,” Meg told Athen on Tuesday evening as she reheated the dinner she had missed earlier. “He spoke to a friend of his who told him that if you had some sort of redevelopment authority, things would move more quickly.”

  “Hmmmm.” Athen thought it over. “I’ll talk to Riley and George about it in the morning and I’ll ask one of them to propose it to Council. Jim and Harlan will vote against it, so I’ll have to be the deciding vote, but we can get that through.” She rubbed the space between her eyes. “We’ll need someone really strong to head this up. I’ll see if Ms. Evelyn would be interested. If not she, then perhaps the Reverend Davison.”

  “She’d be perfect, but he’s a great backup if you need one,” Meg agreed. “Jeff said you could expect a call from someone at HUD this week.”

  The timer on the microwave alerted Meg that her leftovers were ready. She opened the door and removed her dinner. “Isn’t Jeff an ace?”

  “An ace,” Athen agreed.

  “Speaking of aces, what’s up with Quentin?”

  “He called from St. Louis right before you came in.” Athen plunked down in a chair and fiddled with the small centerpiece Callie had made for the kitchen table. Dried holly berries fell and ran the length of the table, small red balls that bounced onto the floor. Had she read somewhere that holly berries were poisonous? She bent to retrieve them before Hannah did.

  “So what did he say?” Meg sat opposite her.

  “Stafford Banks, who heads Bradford International, is in London with his family until the second week of January. As Lydia suspected, there’s only a skeleton crew in St. Louis this week, which is certainly to Quentin’s advantage. He can pull any records he wants without anyone asking too many questions.”

  “How lucky can you get? But just think, if you’d cleaned off the refrigerator door, as I’d been harping at you to do, we’d never have a lead on this.”

  “We don’t know that we have a lead on anything,” Athen reminded her. “But Quentin seems to think that somehow this Paul Schraeder may be a player in whatever it is that Rossi planned to do on Fourth Street.”

  “What do you think?” Meg twirled strands of spaghetti around her fork.

  “I think it’s terribly curious that someone in Schraeder’s position would show up at a fund-raiser for a politician in a small New Jersey city. If that is the photograph my father was looking at that morning, Dad must have known or suspected who Schraeder was and why he was there. And whatever it was, it sent his blood pressure into overdrive.”

  “So it must have been something really serious.” Meg put down her fork. “Considering that your father suffered a catastrophic stroke.”

  Athen nodded. “Serious? I’m thinking illegal, and I’m willing to bet that my father knew exactly what Dan was up to …”

  28

  I guess you’re wondering what, if anything, I learned while I was in St. Louis.” Quentin tucked his cell under his chin as he made his way to the baggage carousel.

  “You’re back!” Athen smiled. She’d missed Quentin while he was away, and now that he was back, she was dying to hear what he’d found out.

  “I’m just leaving the airport,” he told her. “How about I meet you at your house in about an hour? I don’t want to have this discussion while you’re on a City Hall line. You just never know if someone else might be listening.”

  “Good point. I’ll be home by four.”

  “I’ll see you then.” He paused. “I missed you.”

  “What a coincidence,” she replied. “I missed you, too.”

  Athen tucked the day’s mail into her briefcase and swung her bag over her shoulder. She stepped out of her office and stopped at Veronica’s desk.

  “I’m leaving a little early today,” Athen told her.

  “Sure, Mrs. M.” Veronica nodded, her up-do bobbing in time with the music from her iPod. “Anything you need me to do while you’re gone?”

  “Just the usual. Call my cell if anything happens that you think I need to know about, or if anyone calls that you think I need to speak with.”

  “Will do.” Veronica held up the memo Athen had given her earlier. “I meant to ask you if you wanted me to include this part that you have scribbled in the margin, about Ms. Evelyn?”

  Athen looked over Veronica’s shoulder to the notes she’d made about the proposed redevelopment authority. “Let’s hold up on that part right now.”

  “You got it.” Veronica returned to typing.

  “I’M GLAD YOU’RE BACK,” ATHEN opened the door to let Quentin in.

  “I’m glad to be back.” He closed the front door with his foot, and put his arms around her. “First things first.”

  He drew her to him and kissed her, his arms encircling her and holding her close. “Mmmm,” he murmured. “You feel good.”

  “So do you.” She leaned back to look into his eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “So am I.” He kissed her again, then with an arm over her shoulder led her into the living room. “But I know you have questions.”

  “Do you have answers?” She sat on the sofa and pulled him down with her.

  “I believe I do.” He took off his jacket and placed it on the back of the sofa. “Let’s start with the fact that Paul Schraeder is now the CEO of Clover Inns.”

  “The motel chain?”

  Quentin nodded. “Rumor has it that he’s set his sights on downtown Woodside Heights for a convention center and luxury hotel.”

  “A luxury hotel?” She almost choked on her words. “In downtown Woodside Heights? Who would want to stay in a hotel in the midst of all that urban blight?”

  “Apparently, the plan is to dispose of the blight and start with a blank slate. Once the hotel chain has a foothold in Woodside Heights, Schraeder would offer to purchase the other homes in the immediate area.”

  “But those homes aren’t worth very much, so I doubt the neighbors would sell,” she told him. “They wouldn’t get enough for their houses to be able to afford to go anywhere else.”

  “Ah, but that’s where having a friend in local government comes in handy. Someone who could put pressure on the residents to move. There are all sorts of methods.”

  “What methods?” Athen frowned. “Either you can afford to move or you can’t.”

  “Well, for instance, two years ago in Georgia, Clover Inns was building a hotel and wanted to buy up a block on the opposite side of the street for a park. The residents didn’t want to sell. So Clover Inns got the local pols to pass an ordinance that extended the construction hours in the evening and permitted the work to begin earlier in the morning. After months of listening to the racket well into the night and again at the break of dawn the next day, one by one, the residents gave up their property to Clover Inns.”

  “How could they get the city to do that?”

  “Crossing the appropriate palms with the appropriate amount of silver usually works.”

  “How did you find out about all this?”

  “I called Pat Conte, Schraeder’s successor at Rest America,” he explained, “and asked him what was new, what was on the drawing board, that sort of thing. He said we’re getting some stiff competition from Clover Inns now that Schraeder is there. Word has it that Schraeder has plans to get a strong foothold in the East, to try to establish his chain beyond their traditional Southern holdings, and that he has some very promising sites outside of New York City, in northern New Jersey and Connecticut.”

  “Do tell.”

  “T
he location outside Greenwich is in the bag, but apparently there’s a bit of a snafu in the New Jersey site. However, Schraeder apparently is confident that issue will be resolved before the middle of next year.”

  “Assuming that the parcel of land he wants is on Fourth Street. …”

  “There’s no question in my mind on that point.”

  “Why would he want to build such a complex in Woodside Heights?”

  “It’s actually a good location. It’s close enough to get in and out of New York City in a short amount of time, and land is comparatively inexpensive. It’s not a bad idea, from a strictly business standpoint.”

  “So what’s the deal with Rossi?”

  “I’m thinking that Schraeder offered Rossi cash to secure the properties for him. Probably paid him off, so much cash when he agreed to help Schraeder, with a bigger bundle when Clover Inns took title. It’s not the first time Paul has engaged in underhanded deals. Conte tells me the reason Schraeder and Rest America parted company was over some scheme he’d cooked up that was borderline illegal. Conte found out about it by accident, but when he confronted Schraeder, Paul told him that’s the way business was done these days. Conte threatened to go to the board with it, and Schraeder walked out.”

  “So Schraeder could have paid Dan to obtain the properties for the city so that he could in turn sell them to Clover Inns and pocket a kickback.” Athen nodded.

  “I’m sure Dan is thinking of it as a ‘finder’s fee,’” Quentin said dryly.

  “This all makes sense. While Dan was mayor, the city confiscated those properties for nonpayment of taxes. Two elderly brothers owned them, as I recall.”

  “Two elderly brothers who are in an assisted-living facility in Arizona. They are elderly, but they are not senile.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I checked the tax records, then had Brenda follow up with Social Security to track them down. I flew out to Arizona on Thursday to meet with them. Neither of them had any recollection of having received any notice of sale. They’re under the impression that they still own those houses.”

  “Well, if Dan had the city confiscate those properties three years ago, why didn’t he sell them to Schraeder back then?”

  “Because the Greenwich deal came through faster than Schraeder had anticipated. I suspect he paid Dan a little bonus to sit on the Fourth Street site until the company had the cash flow to proceed in Woodside Heights.”

  “I’m not sure I understand how Dan could have had the city take title to the houses.”

  “Think for a minute. If the owners never received the tax bills—maybe the bills weren’t even sent—the taxes weren’t paid, and the city swooped in to take them over.”

  “Wouldn’t the city have to post a notice? Like when a property goes to sheriff’s sale?”

  “With the owners out of state, they wouldn’t have seen any notice that the city posted.”

  “Bastard.” Athen growled. “I wish I could nail Dan for taking that money. And if that’s how the city obtained those properties, I want to get him for that, too.”

  “Well, short of a signed confession, there’s no way to prove any of this. Schraeder’s not likely to admit that he’s paid local authorities in exchange for their cooperation any more than Dan’s going to admit he accepted the bribe or that he cheated the owners out of those houses,” Quentin reminded her. “But there’s no doubt in my mind that Schraeder promised Dan a bundle to sit on those lots for him. There’s no other explanation for Dan’s resolve to keep control of them.”

  “I wonder if my father knew,” she murmured. “I wonder if that’s why he hit the ceiling when he saw the picture in the paper.”

  “Athen, what if maybe Schraeder approached Ari first?”

  “You mean, he offered my father a bribe …?”

  “It’s very possible,” he continued. “Look, from what I’ve heard, before he had his stroke, your father was a very influential man. Some would say more influential than Rossi, back then. Schraeder might have made a mistake in judgment, offered to make a deal with your dad, then, when he was slapped down, went to Rossi.”

  “That would certainly explain Dan’s actions after my father had his stroke, and it explains why it was so important that Dan be able to run again. If he was no longer mayor, he’d be of no use to Schraeder.” Athen nodded thoughtfully. “But how much of this matters if we can’t prove it? Dan will run again and he’ll be elected. He’ll get those leases back from the UCC—after all, how useful are those vacant lots to them?”

  “Maybe they’ll plan to build something there,” Quentin suggested.

  Athen shook her head. “They’ll never get the building permits. Dan will be able to block those. No, he’ll offer to buy them back, and the city will sell the property to Clover Inns. Dan will make a tidy sum on the deal, and no one will be the wiser. But, as you said, this is all conjecture. Without any proof, he’s going to get away with it.”

  Athen got up and began to pace, her arms folded over her chest.

  “God, the whole thing makes me so damned mad.” Her anger continued to rise. “What I wouldn’t do to trip him up now.”

  “How far would you go?” Quentin asked quietly.

  “As far as I had to.” She leaned over the back of the sofa behind him and draped her arms around his neck and rested her chin on top of his head. “Unfortunately, without Schraeder admitting that he offered the bribe …”

  “… which will never happen,” he interjected.

  “There doesn’t seem to be any way to beat him. Dan’s sure to win.”

  “Well, as long as he runs unopposed, he’s a sure thing.” Quentin reached up to stroke her arm.

  “I can’t think of anyone who could defeat him,” she murmured. “Except maybe Ms. Evelyn, and she’s mentioned several times she has no interest in ever running for office. She likes to stay behind the scenes and do her own thing. And so far, she’s been pretty damned effective in getting things done. Maybe she’d change her mind if she knew about Schraeder. Diana might have some ideas, though. I’ll run it all past her.”

  “Have you thought about taking him on yourself?”

  “Are you nuts?” She laughed out loud. “Me, go head to head with him and his machine?” She shook her head. “I can’t beat him.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “I am.” She shook her head. “I have no interest in putting myself or my daughter through that.”

  “So you’ll just concede defeat and let him continue to rape and pillage the city?”

  “I can’t stop him, Quentin. Maybe someone else can, but it isn’t going to be me.”

  “There is no one else who …”

  “Can we change the subject, please? I don’t want to run against him. He’ll cut me to shreds. I’ve had enough. As far as I’m concerned, the matter is closed.”

  He sighed with apparent defeat. “All right, then. How about we talk about our New Year’s Eve plans?”

  “Do we have plans for New Year’s Eve?”

  “Yes, we do,” he told her.

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s going to be a surprise.”

  “What are we going to do when we get there?”

  “That’s a surprise, too.”

  “Really? Will I like it?”

  “You’ll love it.”

  “How will I know what to wear, if I don’t know where we’re going or what we’re going to do?” Athen frowned. “How will I know what to take?”

  “Pack warm clothes, enough for two days.” He reached around and pulled her over the back of the sofa and onto his lap. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon around four.”

  “Whoa, wait a minute. Two days? Are you forgetting about Callie?”

  “Callie has plans of her own.”

  “Oh, really? And what might they be?”

  “While we are … at the place where we’re going and doing what we’re doing, Callie and Tim will be with my mothe
r and Hughes in New York City, where they will see shows and take in the sights and have a wonderful time before they have to go back to school at the end of their holiday break. While they’re there, they’ll hook up with my sister, Caitlin, and have a ball. Cait is a barrel of fun, when she’s not working, which she all too often is. I know I should have asked you first, before I allowed Mom to make her plans, but I really wanted to surprise you with a little vacation. And Meg thought it would be all right. If you don’t want her to go, though …”

  “What, and incur Callie’s wrath for making her miss what is sure to be a grand time? It’s very nice of your mother to include Callie in the plans.” She paused. “Was this your idea or your mother’s?”

  “A little of both,” he admitted. “Mom mentioned she was going to meet up with Cait in the city and asked if she could take Timmy. When I told her what I was planning, we both agreed that Callie might be a fifth wheel if she came along with us. Besides, she’ll have more fun with Tim and my mom and Caitlin than she would with us.”

  “All right. Callie can go with your mother and Tim, and I’ll go with you on the condition that there is no more talk of elections or Dan Rossi or me running for anything until we get back from … wherever it is that we’re going.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Great.” She grinned. “When do we leave?”

  “SO WHEN DO I FIND out where we’re going?” Athen snapped on her seat belt.

  “When we get there.” He grinned and started the engine.

  “When will we get there?”

  He turned on the radio and searched for a contemporary station. “In about an hour, hour and a half. Just sit back, relax, listen to the music.” He backed out of her driveway and, two blocks down, followed the signs for the Garden State Parkway.

  “We’ve got two days to ourselves and a couple of bottles of champagne. The kids are being taken care of, so what’s not to love?” He reached over and took one of her hands.

  “It sounds very romantic.”

  “It will be, I promise.”

  “You told me to pack all warm clothes.” She thought of her suitcase packed with heavy woolen sweaters, socks, and a pair of long underwear.