The blinking light on my phone was a distraction from my latte. I hit the voicemail button. All three messages were from Babs Todaro. She didn’t say much, other than to call her as soon as possible. I figured she had finally remembered about the birds and I called her back.
“Hi. Mrs. Todaro?” I asked.
“Please call me Babs. I want to know what people have to do to get a permit.”
“What kind of a permit?”
“A permit to start a business.”
“Well, it depends on the business. I would refer them to our zoning department first to see if they needed a zoning permit. What type of business is it?”
“A cemetery.”
I smiled. Maybe she hadn’t remembered the birds. I asked, “A cemetery? Are you looking to open a cemetery?”
“No, silly, I can see that the guy across the street is building a cemetery and I don’t think he has any permits. I want to report him.”
I asked Babs where she lived. It was a residential neighborhood with some quaint stores mixed in. I passed those stores on my way into work. From what I could tell, there wasn’t much open space in that area for a cemetery. Actually, we were on a barrier island. I didn’t remember seeing any cemeteries on this island, and I wondered if it had something to do with the water table. I didn’t think it was likely that there were any cemeteries currently being built in Coral Beach. I asked her how she knew it was a cemetery.
“I saw the gravediggers and the dead bodies,” she said.
On that note, I decided to humor her and tell her I’d have the zoning department look into it. Then, for the heck of it, I called the zoning department and asked about the area where Babs lived. I learned it was a mixed-use area, meaning there were residential homes and businesses intermingled. Babs lived on the outskirts of the area in an end-unit, single-story townhome. Her home was across the street from an office building. There were more townhouses being built next to that office building, and I was correct in my assumption; there was nowhere to put a cemetery in that area.
After two hours had passed, I decided to call Babs back. She answered the phone, saying, “I’m too busy right now; my soaps are on. I’ll call you back.” I took that to mean I had done my due diligence and if she had a further complaint, she would call me.
When my phone rang precisely an hour later, I thought it was Babs calling me back yet again. I looked at the caller ID and saw that it wasn’t Babs after all; it was Mike Nero.
“Hi, Chelsey, this is Mike. I was in yesterday to get my dog’s license.”
“How can I help you, Mike?”
“I’d like to know if I could take you out on a date.”
Oh lord, I thought. I had absolutely no interest in going out on a date with this guy. He wasn’t exactly my type.
“Thanks for asking, but I’m seeing someone,” I told him. Truth be told, I wasn’t even really seeing Kris, but I was hopeful that I would be seeing him. I also figured it was a nice way to let someone down.
“So, you’re seeing someone. Doesn’t sound like you are exclusive,” he noted.
He was right. I wasn’t exclusive with Kris. I just didn’t want to go out with Mike.
“We are exclusive, but thank you for asking.”
“Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”
“Thanks for calling, but I have a customer, so I have to go. Bye,” I said quickly and I hung the phone up before he could continue to hound me for a date.
The sound of the dinging bell made me look toward the front counter. It was one of the developers I had met at Federici’s. The attractive one. I approached the counter.
“Hi, Mr. Righetti. What can I do for you?” I asked.
Gino seemed to look through me with his deep, dark eyes.
“Chelsey, it’s so wonderful to see you again. I was wondering if you could tell me how I should go about getting the zoning changed on a property. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but your zoning board turned down my application for a use variance. I have a bigger picture in my head anyway.”
“No, I didn’t hear that. I’m new here. I’m not really familiar with zoning anyway. I know that you can go to the board of trustees and ask for them to change it.”
“Yeah, yeah, I knew that. Let’s just say they agree to it. What happens next?”
“Well, they would have to approve a zoning ordinance.”
“And how long does that take?”
“Oh boy, that can take up to two months.”
“Two months? Why so long?” he asked as he lowered his eyebrows in such a way to let me know he wasn’t pleased with that answer. He made me nervous, but I wasn’t sure why. I was generally nervous around handsome men, but it seemed like there was something else I couldn’t put my finger on. Gino Righetti was dark and mysterious.
“Well, the ordinance would need to be drafted, then placed on an agenda for the board of trustees to vote on it. We call that an ‘introduction.’ We have a meeting next week; the agenda deadline is in two days. After that, the law says it has to go to our planning board. They have thirty-five days to review it. Once they review it, it goes back to the board of trustees to have a public hearing and then they can vote to adopt it. After that, it gets published in the newspaper. Then, it becomes effective ten days after it appears in the newspaper. So, sixty days may even be pushing it.”
He frowned. “Is there any way to speed up the process?”
“Sometimes the planning board doesn’t need the full thirty-five days,” I informed him.
He scratched his chin and looked blankly through me, as if he was deep in thought. If there was a mirror in front of him, I thought he wouldn’t be able to see his reflection. He reminded me of one of those sexy vampires, minus the fangs, and a little creepy.
“Okay,” he said, and he turned around to walk out. He looked back at me and said, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I responded.
I knew he was a developer, so I wondered what type of project he had going on where the zoning needed changing.
* * *
Within an hour, Marc appeared in my office. Without saying hello, he said, “Chelsey, I am calling a special meeting for Thursday night. I need you to draft a zoning ordinance for this meeting switching zone R1 to a mixed-use zone, including residential and commercial development.”
I looked at him, confused. I was surprised at the clout that Mr. Righetti had to make Marc jump through hoops to leave his full-time job and hustle over to my office to tell me about the special meeting and ordinance. I also wondered why Marc didn’t simply phone me instead. I couldn’t understand why they wanted to move so fast on it.
“I’m not sure how to write that. I’ve never written a zoning ordinance before,” I said.
I was shocked when his head popped off his neck, hit the ceiling, and came crashing back down. He slammed his fists down on my desk. I slid my chair backwards, away from my desk, alarmed. “Figure it out!” he screamed, then stormed out of my office.
That came as a complete shock to me. I had thought he was such a nice guy; so pleasant with me in all of my dealings with him. I felt a tear welling up in my eye. I had managed to anger one of my bosses within my first few days of work. I was going to pick up the phone to try to call someone for help, but I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t break down over the phone.
“Are you okay?” I heard a voice say. I looked up to find Bryce in my doorway. I guess he saw the puffiness surrounding my eyes, and before I could answer, he said, “That was uncalled for. He shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. Did he kick the desk or something? That is completely unprofessional.”
The voice of my mother rang out in my head. Never let them see you sweat! I cleared my throat. “It’s fine. I’m okay. Thanks, Bryce,” I quietly babbled.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” he asked.
“Um, no, not yet. Um, I’ll let you know if I do.”
He left the doorway and I took a moment to count to ten in a failed
attempt to settle myself. I then opted for an email message to both our zoning division and our attorneys. Perhaps one of them would take pity on me and help me write the ordinance Marc wanted. I pulled out the ordinance books, found the R1 district in the books, and forwarded the language of that ordinance to them as well. I told them how the ordinance was to be done for a special council meeting, called by the village president. I worked on the meeting notice for the special meeting. I sent it to the newspapers and I placed it on the bulletin board. I also notified the appropriate staff that there would be a meeting and I booked the boardroom.
Several minutes later, I received a response from the law firm that Coral Beach contracted with, Bellini and Associates. They told me not to fear, that they would take care of it, and that they would send me something soon. Whew! That was a ton of bricks lifted off my shoulders. I was stunned and thrilled that I got an answer from them so quickly. I thanked them from the bottom of my heart.
Although I was keeping busy, I remained upset. I was also incredibly stressed, having been thrown into the fire with no one to give me a little training, no office assistance, and now a meeting I wasn’t expecting. I felt my stomach grumbling. I looked at the clock and noticed it was already two in the afternoon. I decided to take a lunch break to regain my composure. When I returned, I buried myself in paperwork all afternoon, trying not to think about Marc’s fists making contact with my desk. Toward the end of the day, I decided to go over to the tax office to ask about the job opening. I approached Dingo, since Bryce was out of the office, having left after a half of a day. Dingo was in his forties and appeared to be a direct descendent of the chimpanzee—in both looks and personality. He had greasy dark hair and was hairy all over. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, revealing his hairy chest.
I asked him about the job opening and why they weren’t advertising for it yet.
“Why? You lookin’ to switch positions already?” Dingo asked, staring at my chest.
“No, it seems as though we could all use the help, so I would like to get the position filled quickly if possible. I have a friend who might be interested.”
He looked up at my face and said, “Is she as pretty as you?”
“Um, thanks, I think. Yes, she’s pretty, but more importantly, she’s a great worker.”
“Tell her to fax over her résumé.”
“Would email work?” I asked him.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
I thanked him and I walked away, thinking he was a big dog and wondering if Joni quit because he wouldn’t stop staring at her “ladies.” I surmised “Dingo” was more of a description than a name. I called Bonnie and gave her his email address to send in her résumé. She must have sent it immediately because she called me back only thirty minutes later and told me that Dingo had already called her and told her to come in for an interview the next day. I warned her about his “staring issue,” but I also knew Bonnie could handle herself around men like him. I wished her luck and we disconnected.
My phone rang again five minutes later. It was Nero. I answered the phone in order to tell him to stop calling.
“Clerk’s office, Chelsey speaking.”
“Chelsey, it’s Mike.”
“You have to stop calling me at work,” I told him.
“Well, then can I have your home number?”
I rolled my eyes. This guy just didn’t get it. I wasn’t sure if he was oblivious or rude.
“No, you can’t have my home phone number. I want you to stop calling me.”
“Then how about your cell?”
“No!”
“But, I’d really like to take you out on a nice date. I promise, you won’t regret it.”
“Mike, I have a child and a boyfriend. I can’t go out on a date with you. Thank you for asking, but no thanks.”
“Dump your boyfriend and go out with me.”
“No, Mike, now please…don’t call again.”
I hung up the phone. He called me right back. I hit the “do not disturb” button. I had enough of Mike Nero for one day, and I was still upset about the Marc incident, so I decided it was time to call it a day.
Chapter 5
In the dark of the night, two men had been digging with shovels.
“This would be a lot easier with a backhoe,” the first one said, gritting his teeth.
“The backhoe will be too noisy. It’s four in the morning. It’ll wake up the neighbors,” said the second man.
Nosy neighbors would not have been a welcome disturbance. Tired and sweaty, the men continued to dig for close to two hours.
“We’re running out of time. This will have to do,” one announced.
They dragged the bodies that were wrapped in plastic from the office building. They laid the bodies in the freshly dug graves. The sun was due to rise in thirty minutes. There wasn’t much time to cover them. The men worked diligently until daybreak. The bodies were covered, but not deeply. It didn’t matter, though. Foundations to new townhomes would be poured in this area within days. No one would find the bodies under the thick concrete.
The hissing and screeching of the turkey vultures could be heard. They circled around the recently disturbed soil. Their keen sense of smell could detect the gases emitted from the decomposing flesh. As the scavengers searched for their food, the men headed inside to clean up.
* * *
I shuffled outside to get the morning newspaper. It was freezing out. I was tired of this cold weather. I ran back inside the house and unfolded the paper. The front page had a story about a married couple reported missing by their daughter in the village where I worked. I hadn’t known the couple and didn’t recognize their photos. They lived in an oceanfront house, so I assumed they were well to do, as oceanfront homes in Coral Beach sold for quite a pretty penny. I heard Mandy stirring, so I put down the paper to get her ready for the day.
After I had left her with my parents, I headed into work and nestled into my chair.
Bryce peeked his head into my office.
“Good morning, Madame Clerk.”
“Good morning, Mr. Assessor.”
“Would you like a cup of coffee? I’m pouring one for myself.”
I took him up on the offer. “Yes, please! With that hazelnut creamer we have and Splenda.”
Bryce returned moments later with the coffee for me. I thanked him.
“How have your first couple of days been?”
“As good as can be expected,” I answered.
“You mean, stressful, then?” Bryce said with a smirk.
I looked into his brown eyes. “You’re perceptive,” I remarked.
“Nah, I just remember what my first week was like.”
“How long ago was that?” I asked.
“Oh, I’ve only been here for a few months.”
“A newbie, like me!” I pointed out.
“Yeah, us newbies need to stick together.”
“I agree.”
“Well, if there’s anything you need…” Bryce’s voice trailed off.
“Thanks, Bryce.”
He left my office, so I turned by attention to my voicemail messages.
The sound of Mike Nero’s voice, like nails on a chalkboard, filled my ears…over and over again. I discovered he had left me at least ten voicemails. Persistent little bugger, I thought.
The first message was casual. “Hey, Chelsey, it’s Mike; call me back.” The next nine got progressively creepier. By the end of message ten, he was proclaiming his undying love for me and telling me he would fight to the death for my honor.
“Oh, great! I’ve got a stalker,” I said under my breath. This was just my type of luck. I wondered why I couldn’t have a gorgeous guy like Kris calling me and professing his love, but instead, I had this nut head over heels for me. I realized I hadn’t heard from Kris recently. Despite the embarrassment, I was disappointed that I hadn’t seen him since our catastrophic meeting at Federici’s. I had been too busy with starting a new job to call
him, and I guess he was still having his own issues at work. I sighed.
The phone rang, and my heart leapt into my throat, and not in a good way. I went into a panic, thinking it was Nero calling. Luckily, I had caller ID at work. It was Babs Todaro.
“Hello, Babs. How can I help you?” I asked.
“That village president is a crook,” she said. “He is taking all of our money and giving it away.”
“How is he giving it away?” I asked, humoring her.
“He is giving it to those people to build their cemetery.”
I was amazed she was still on the cemetery kick.
“I saw him,” she said. “He handed an envelope filled with money to the tooth fairy.”
“The tooth fairy?” I asked, trying not to laugh.
“Yes, the tooth fairy. My nephew is friends with the tooth fairy.”
“Who is your nephew?” I asked.
“I have to go now; they are outside. I’m going to go tell them they don’t have a permit for their cemetery and they are going to have to move it somewhere else.”
“Okay, Babs, have a nice day.”
“What did Babs want this time?” I heard a voice say. It was Bryce. He must have overheard me talking. No surprise there. I could spit on his office door from my desk. I hadn’t noticed his clothes earlier, but I realized he wasn’t dressed so nerdy today. The last couple of days, he had worn a sweater vest overtop of a button-down shirt with a tie. Today, he skipped the sweater vest and was donned in a royal blue button-down shirt and black pants that fit perfectly in all the right spots. It was the first time I thought he was handsome. I might have been interested in him if I hadn’t had Kris on my mind and if I hadn’t had an aversion to dating coworkers. Once upon a time, I had been interested in someone from work—a cop at my last job. I was a nervous wreck around him because I had such a crush on him, then, as luck would have it, he turned out to be a criminal. No more coworkers for me.
“I don’t know—something about money, a tooth fairy, and the cemetery.”
“I think she told me about the tooth fairy once too,” he said with a giggle. He turned and stepped back into his office.
Tax Cut Page 4