I went over to the coffee machine, helped myself to a second cup, and snuggled back into my chair, starting my paperwork for the day. If nothing else, Coral Beach provided me with an awesome leather chair, which was super comfy. My phone rang again. Mike Nero. I hit the “do not disturb” button.
Bryce came to my office several minutes later and told me someone was calling his extension for me. When he revealed it was Mike Nero, I asked him if he would do me a huge favor and tell him I was in a meeting. I told him I would owe him one.
Nero told Bryce he needed help with a dog license. Bryce fibbed and told Nero that he knew all about dog licenses and that he could help him with something. He refused Bryce’s assistance and insisted I call him back. Bryce took his phone number and handed it to me. I pitched it into the garbage. Bryce looked at me and started to laugh.
“What was that all about?” he asked.
“I’m quite embarrassed. I feel silly telling you this, being that I just started working here. But it appears I’ve picked up a stalker.”
Bryce laughed harder.
“I hope you feel sorry for me, and that you’re not just mocking me,” I said jokingly to him.
“A little of both,” he replied.
I guessed I would have been more embarrassed if it was anyone else, but there was something about Bryce that I liked. He was down to earth and made me feel at ease. I knew he and I would be friends.
The bell dinged. Bryce and I both glanced at the counter. It was Bonnie arriving several minutes early for her interview. I invited her in to wait until Dingo was ready. She was drop-dead gorgeous. She probably could have been a supermodel. Her hair was dyed back to her natural deep brown color and her big brown eyes sparkled. She was glamorous, had a killer body, and was married to a neurosurgeon. She was also a good person, but had a raunchy side in a comedic kind of way. She was dressed in a sexy, red, form-fitting dress. I guess after I told her Dingo was a dog, she figured she would use that to her advantage.
“You look great! Good luck!” I told her.
“Thanks!” she said. “Who was the hottie with you when I rang the bell?”
“That’s Bryce Coach, the Tax Assessor.”
“Huh. You told me he wasn’t hot.”
“I guess he’s not bad.”
“Now I really hope I get the job. I get to look at that fine tush every day.”
“Oh, brother!” I said with a roll of my eyes.
Dingo came out, took one look at Bonnie, and casually unbuttoned another button on his shirt, revealing more of his hairy chest. I cringed in disgust. Since Bonnie couldn’t make a remark, which was customary for her, I could see her stifle back a smirk. She followed him back to his office for her interview. He asked if I wanted to interview her as well, since she would be working for me too. I declined. Bonnie had already been my assistant once—I knew she was good. I went back to work at my desk. I noticed the phones were quiet this morning. Besides Babs Todaro and Mike Nero, the phones had barely rung at all in the few days of my employment. I knew this was because Coral Beach was a summer resort type of a municipality, and there wasn’t much in the way of activity this time of year.
There was still no word from the attorneys about the zoning ordinance, and without the ordinance, I didn’t know which properties were affected. So, I couldn’t get a jumpstart on the mailing I needed to do. I was also finished with the agenda items I had been given for the board meeting next week. With nothing left on my plate, I decided to clean out my new desk, finally, and sort things the way I liked them.
It seemed as though someone had already cleared out Vinny’s personal items. I was grateful for that. I was apprehensive about finding something that belonged to a dead guy. I was sad for Vinny and almost felt a sense of guilt at the fact that I had this new job because of his death. I was deep in thought, sorting letterhead and envelopes, when I came across an envelope with something inside. I pulled the piece of paper out of the envelope and opened it.
Chills ran down the entire length my entire body, followed by the feeling of terror. My hands trembled as I read the note. It said, “If you are reading this, and I am dead, please tell the police the boss is responsible.”
“Chelsey. Chelsey,” I heard Bryce calling my name.
“Huh?” I looked up.
“What’s the matter, Chelsey? You look as pale as a ghost.”
“Uh…I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me,” I said.
“Is Marc harassing you again?” he asked.
“Oh, no, it’s not him.”
“I have that Mike Nero guy on the phone again,” Bryce reported.
Without thinking, I said, “Put him through.”
“Really?” Bryce asked.
“Uh…yeah, I guess.” I wasn’t thinking rationally after reading that note. I picked up the phone.
“Yes, Mr. Nero, how can I help you?” I asked.
“Mr. Nero? What’s this Mr. Nero stuff? If we are going to get married, you’ll need to start calling me by my first name.”
“Married?!” I asked or exclaimed—I’m not sure which. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, you’ll see. I know it. I can feel it in my fingers. I feel it in my toes.”
“Isn’t that a song?”
“No, I just made it up.”
“You didn’t make it up, it’s a song. By the Troggs.”
“You know I love you, I always will.”
“Knock it off, Nero. What do you want?” I said angrily.
“I want you.”
“Well, you can’t have me.”
“Go out with me this weekend.”
“No!”
“Why not?”
“I’m washing my hair.”
“No, you’re not; go out with me.”
“I’m hanging up now,” I told him sternly.
“Wait….It’s written on the wind, it’s everywhere I go…”
I hung up the phone. “Idiot!” I said out loud.
“What did he say?” Bryce asked.
“He was reciting song lyrics to me,” I told him.
“What a weirdo,” Bryce said.
“Yeah, seriously.”
I tried to get back to work, but couldn’t concentrate. The words that I saw on that piece of paper resonated in my head along with questions that I didn’t have answers to: Who killed Vinny Buttiglieri? Was it one of my bosses? If so, which one? And why?
Bonnie’s interview came to an end while I was deep in thought. She strutted into my office and took a seat.
“Well?” I asked her.
“I’m a shoo-in. I almost reached over with a tissue and wiped the drool coming down Dingo’s chin. You were right; he is a first-class dirty dog. I think my tight red dress did the trick. He pretty much told me I had the job.”
“Well, then, congrats! Did he say when he wanted you to start work?”
“He didn’t say. I guess he needs to confirm it with the hot guy and whatever powers that be.”
“The hot guy? You mean Bryce?” She nodded. “Didn’t Bryce interview you too?”
“He stopped in to say hello, but that was about it.”
“Let’s celebrate this weekend. Come over for a drink or something.”
“Okay, sounds like a plan.”
Bonnie headed out the door and I decided to try to put those crazy thoughts of murder out of my head. I needed to start working on the new agenda items that had found their way into my in-box and I needed to make sure I didn’t make any mistakes. Marc was already displeased with me and I didn’t want him to think I was completely incompetent. Maybe the note was just a bad joke. But before I handled the new agenda items pouring in, I decided to speak with Bryce. It seemed as though I had established a good rapport with him thus far, so I felt comfortable enough to ask him if he was going to agree to appoint Bonnie without interviewing her, like Dingo had implied.
“I don’t have a problem with it. I’m a pretty laid-back guy. Her résumé loo
ked fine to me. Did I hear you worked with her before?” Bryce asked.
“Yes, I did work with her at my last job. She was my deputy clerk,” I told him.
“And she did okay?”
“Yes. She’s very reliable and does excellent work. She’s quite intelligent.”
“I’m good then. I’ll sign off.”
I smiled at him. “Thanks so much, Bryce. You won’t regret it!”
He smiled back, flashing the cutest dimples. I know I had originally told Bonnie that he wasn’t a looker. I guess I hadn’t noticed him at first, but the dimples made him seem kind of adorable. Sort of like a little kid or something. Bonnie was right. He was handsome.
That helped me get my mind off things for about three minutes. I retrieved my purse from my desk drawer, dug out my keys, and headed out to lunch. I drove to my parents’ house. Being around my parents and my daughter made me feel safe somehow. The comfort food that they always seemed to have in their house could have been part of the reason. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, green beans, and mac and cheese were on the menu today. I didn’t dare tell them about the note I had found. Being a parent myself, I knew they’d freak out. I did tell them the good news that it looked like Bonnie would be working with me again. I secretly hoped I wasn’t dragging Bonnie into another crazy job.
I returned to work after lunch, feeling somewhat better than when I left. Particularly because I returned to an email from the attorneys. They attached the zoning ordinance, to my delight. Who would have thought I could have gotten so excited about something as boring as a zoning ordinance? I looked at the calendar. I knew that both the ad for the zoning ordinance and the mailing had to reach their intended audiences at least ten days prior to the ordinance public hearing. I decided to get a jump on things. I drafted the notices that would go in the newspaper and the memo that would need to be mailed. Then, I went over to talk to Bryce again.
I asked Bryce if he was able to make labels for the mailing for me out of his database of property owners. He said he would. As the tax assessor, I knew he would have a database of all the homeowners in the village and he would be able to sort them by zone for me. The mailing had to go out by both certified and regular mail, so I asked him for four sets of labels. Two for each envelope, one for the large green certified label and one for the small green and white post office receipt. Bryce graciously agreed to my request for four sets of labels as well.
My next stop was in the planning and zoning office. I spoke with the secretary in the department. Luckily, she had a meeting scheduled for next week, so she could get the ordinance on her agenda. I blew out a sigh of relief. If they didn’t have a meeting scheduled, I’d have to explain to Marc that the planning board couldn’t review the ordinance as quickly as he wanted, and I absolutely did not want to be the target of another one of his fits of anger.
The secretary also filled me in about how the project was a huge source of controversy at a previous zoning board meeting. The board hadn’t approved a use variance for the project because residents came out in droves. It was the reason the developers now wanted a zoning change. Her zoning board meeting was standing room only. They even had to prevent some people from coming in the room because the amount of people exceeded the fire code. She said some came bearing picket signs and the police had arrested others that got out of control. She told me that various board members received death threats. The crowd was so loud—heckling during the meeting, that the chairman finally took a quick vote to deny the application out of fear that violence would break out. She said it was the most stressful meeting she had ever been to.
Oh great! I thought. That meant I would have to experience something similar because all these people were likely to attend an upcoming board meeting. Maybe not the next meeting, because no one really knew what was going on yet, but they’d get wind of it for the public hearing on the ordinance and then they would probably be out of control. I made a mental note to be proactive and phone the police department to see if they could hire extra officers for the public hearing of this ordinance. I was hesitant about contacting Marc about anything, after the way he treated me, but I was thinking we should move the location of the public hearing to a larger place. Possibly the old theatre. Call me wimpy, but I opted to wait for now and not suggest anything. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with Marc again at the moment.
I stopped in the kitchen to see if there was any type of random miracle waiting in there for me to get me through the remainder of the day. A pot of recently brewed coffee was waiting for me, along with some chocolate toffee cookies. That would have to do. I grabbed a mug and poured myself a cup, left it black, grabbed a cookie, and returned to the heap of work waiting for me. I hoped no one minded that I got my coffee from the pot in the kitchen instead of the one near my office. While I was beginning to learn the politics of the village, I certainly was not aware of the office politics as of yet. I walked back into my office and found a pile of labels sitting on my chair, compliments of Bryce.
“Thanks, Bryce!” I shouted out from my desk.
“You’re welcome,” he yelled back.
It was thoughtful of him to stop what he was doing to print labels to me. I put down my cookie and coffee and went to the supply cabinet where I found the green post office forms that I needed for the certified mailing. I took a handful, returned to my desk, and started labeling the forms. I placed our return address on each form. I weighed a sample letter on the postage machine and recorded the postage amount in the areas where required. I hadn’t even noticed when the hands on the clock pointed to four thirty.
“Are you staying?” Bryce asked.
“Oh, geez, I didn’t even see the time. I can’t stay; I have to pick up my daughter.”
“You have a daughter? How old?”
“She’s two. A terrible two, I might add. How about you? Any kids?”
“Nah, I haven’t met the right woman yet.”
“Well, I didn’t exactly meet the right man, and I have one.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” Bryce seemed tongue-tied.
I laughed it off. “It’s a long story, Bryce. I’ll tell you all about it sometime.”
We both smiled and continued to make small talk out to the parking lot. I liked Bryce’s personality. He was kind and caring. I got into my car and drove away with a smile. Maybe my new job wasn’t that bad, I thought. I did work with some nice people, like Bryce. Maybe the note was Vinny being mad at someone one day, like Marc. I could understand if Vinny didn’t like Marc. I didn’t like Marc. And if he spoke to everyone the way he spoke to me, I’d be shocked to learn that anyone liked Marc.
Chapter 6
Daylight hadn’t yet graced the Village of Coral Beach. President Marc Coglione cautiously approached the sales office to the new townhouse complex. He stepped out of his car and looked around nervously to make certain no one was watching. He waited patiently. The sleeping neighborhood was silent, except for the chirping crickets. A man arrived.
“Did you take care of it?” Marc asked.
“Yeah, we took care of it. Cleared the obstacles for Gino to acquire another property.”
“What did you do with the bodies?”
“You pay us to do the worrying about that.”
“Well, maybe I want to make sure my money is being well spent,” Marc said angrily.
The man chuckled and patted Marc on the shoulder. “Marc, my man, you seem stressed. Go home. Make yourself a nice, stiff, screwdriver for breakfast. Learn to relax a little. But before you do, there is the question of the final payment for our services.”
Marc handed the man a bundle of hundred-dollar bills. “Make sure you give Cal his cut,” Marc said as he hurried back to his car and drove away.
* * *
I arrived at work early the next morning. It was the last Thursday of the month. I had an agenda due and that special meeting tonight. I wanted to make sure I got everything done, and the extra half hour I gave myself this morning would
help a little. I placed my purse on my chair while I took off my coat. Having looked down, I noticed the blinking light of horrors illuminated my phone. I cringed. Was it Babs? Mike Nero? Almost daily, when my voicemail button had been lit, regardless of who it had been, it wasn’t good news.
I reluctantly hit the playback button.
“Chelsey, this is Marc. Call me immediately.” I felt my shoulders tense up to the ceiling. Marc had a way of making me a basket case. I had originally perceived him in a good light. My perceptions had changed. Although it was still early, I dialed Marc’s number.
“Good morning, this is Chelsey, returning your call.”
“Chelsey, there is some land we want to condemn. I need a condemnation ordinance prepared for tonight’s meeting.”
I closed my eyes as tightly as I could, and mustered up the nerve to talk.
“Um, we can’t put that on tonight’s agenda,” I informed him.
“What the hell do you mean? You can’t put it on tonight’s agenda?” Marc screeched.
I cringed.
“It’s a special meeting. A special notice went out. Additional agenda items can’t be added to a special meeting.” I waited for the ear-piercing response with the phone slightly parted from my ear by my shaky hands in anticipation.
“Well, then, get it on next week’s agenda.” Whew! A sense of relief washed over me.
“Absolutely, I will. Do you have the block and lot of the property to be condemned?” I asked.
“No!” he said in a booming voice.
My shoulders returned to tension height.
I wanted to know if we had the money budgeted, or if we were in negotiations with the property owner, but I was afraid to ask. I quickly thought of a creative way to find out.
“Should a bond ordinance also be placed on the agenda?”
“That’s for you to figure out,” he said in a sarcastic tone.
“Okay,” I said. “You have a lovely day.” Kill him with kindness, I thought.
He disconnected without another word. I had no idea what the property was, how much it was worth, nor if we had money to do it. I had gone through the procedures to condemn land at my last job. The procedure, as I had known it, was to negotiate first with the landowner. I was fairly sure there should have been an ordinance to authorize the purchase or condemnation. Then there should have been appraisals on the property. The actual condemnation of the land normally would come later—after a court hearing, and after the landowner refused to agree to a purchase price. This would occur with a second ordinance setting the price. Marc seemed to be putting this step first, since I searched the records, but couldn’t find any documents showing the initial steps had been completed. I wasn’t sure if what Marc was asking for was the correct way to handle things, but I was going to lay low and let the attorneys do their thing.
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