When I returned to the office, Michele Analoro called me back on my cell phone. I told Bonnie that it was my doctor calling and then I shut my office door so that no one could hear me. I’d fill Bonnie in later. Michele was able to give me a small tidbit of information—Vinny had moved into Rae Ann’s house in Bordentown shortly before his death. It had not even occurred to me that they may have lived together, nor did it occur to me to look up Vinny’s most recent address in an attempt to find Rae Ann. I thanked her for the information. There is one thing about municipal clerks that I’ve learned along the way—they always seem to know a little something about everything. If you talk to enough of them, you’ll eventually find out everything you need to know. Well, almost everything.
I got on my computer and typed “Vinny Buttiglieri Bordentown” into the search engine. Bingo! His home address and phone number popped up. I realized that Rae Ann might have been at work, so I waited until the evening to give her a call. I had a couple of hours in between the regular workday and the board of trustees meeting that night.
When I finally did call her, Rae Ann seemed surprised to hear from me, but she certainly sounded like a lovely person over the phone. She dished out all the gossip that she had for me on the village. She kept referring to Marc as the “Village Idiot.” She made it very clear that she did not like him. She said that Winifred ran hot and cold; only looking out for herself and no one else. She said that John and Aspen were the nicest of the bunch and Vinny thought the two of them were trustworthy. She said Jamie was indifferent. Showed up when told, voted how she was told, but rarely contacted the office for anything. She was like a ghost figure. She sounded bitter and teary-eyed when she told me how none of the board of trustees had sent flowers, cards, or even a small acknowledgement about Vinny’s death. I made the judgment that I should watch my back around Winifred and Marc—not that I wasn’t already watching my back.
* * *
It was seven o’clock and I was setting up the boardroom for the meeting, when I saw Nero walk into the room. Coral Beach did not have metal detectors or guards for any of their government meetings, which meant I was momentarily alone with Nero. I rolled my eyes.
“Hello, my love,” he said with stars in his eyes.
I marched right over to him, grabbed him by the ear, and dragged him out of the room, into the hallway with him screaming, “Ow, ow, ow,” all the way there.
“Listen here, you idiot. I can’t stop you from coming to an open public meeting, but if you say anything, and I mean ANYTHING at all to embarrass me any further than you already have, I swear, I will jump over the dais and rip your tongue right out of your mouth. You’ve done enough damage for the short time that I’ve been working here, and I’m not getting fired because of you.”
“I like it when you are angry. You’re so sexy.”
“Ugh!” I screamed. “Enough is enough, Nero. The more you talk, the less I like you. Now, go sit down and be quiet!”
“All right, geez, somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”
“I’m serious, Nero. I’m warning you. No more games. I’m going to file a harassment complaint if you don’t knock it off. And if the police don’t do anything, I will hunt you down at your house and shoot off your little toe.”
“Boy! You’re being mean to me. And I’ve been nothing but nice to you!”
“Oh, puh-lease! You call what you’ve been doing ‘nice’? You are like a tick, sucking the life out of me and I can’t seem to pick you off with my tweezers.”
“I still love you.”
“Eww!”
I marched back into the boardroom and continued setting up. The board of trustees arrived, as well as several members of the public and press. Winifred was in her usual attire, which left little to the imagination. If she had bent over during the meeting, we would have witnessed a full moon. Someone needed to remind her she hadn’t been a teenager in many, many, many years.
Marc called the meeting to order and some basic items were voted on. When it was time for public participation, Mike Nero stepped up to the microphone.
“I’ve been living here in Coral Beach,” he said. “Something used to be out of my reach. But now that I’m here, that something is near, and she is sure a peach.”
“I’m not sure I understand what you are saying,” Marc said.
“I’m here to profess my undying love in front of all the public to see, to be documented on record. I’m in love with…”
Oh no, he is not! I quickly cut him off. “Excuse me, Mr. President, the gentleman speaking did not state his name nor address for the record,” I said to Marc. I shot an extremely dirty look to Nero.
“Please state your name and address for the record, sir,” Marc told him.
“Mike Nero, twenty Tulip Court,” Mike answered.
“Please continue,” Marc said.
I shot Nero another dirty look, warning him that he better not say anything more.
“I am in love with this village, but I am not in love with the fact that my trash isn’t being picked up in a timely manner,” Nero said.
I blew out a sigh of relief. I wanted to kick Nero so hard. He made me so angry.
Public participation continued with several residents speaking out about the zoning ordinance. It was a relief to know that they received the mailing I had done. Marc reminded them that the public hearing on the ordinance was next week, where they would have the opportunity to voice their opinions.
The condemnation ordinance was discussed at length during the next portion of the meeting. Four of the board members voted yes to introduce it, while Aspen voted no, having stated he didn’t think the village was in the financial position to spend this kind of money. The meeting continued with the bond ordinance also being introduced by a four to one vote. Aspen reiterated his concerns about the large amount of money this was costing the taxpayers and how taxes would go up. He explained this was not only from the loss of tax revenue generated by the beach club once the village owned the land, but also from the interest and payments on the bonds that would be issued.
Marc and Winifred argued that the project would bring in ratables for the village, which would stabilize taxes in the long run. Marc was emphatic that the new businesses would generate much more in tax revenue than the beach club did. Winifred pointed out that the hotels and casinos would bring in a much greater amount of taxes than the beach club and that this newfound revenue would more than pay for the interest and premium payments on the bonds. While the other two board members, John and Jamie, sat silently, the arguments continued between Aspen and Marc. Marc’s anger at Aspen was apparent. Marc told Aspen he didn’t know how someone could be against a project that would create hundreds and possibly thousands of jobs and bring in millions of dollars of taxes to the village. Aspen argued for the residents, who had the “not in my backyard” stance.
I wasn’t sure who was right. I felt there were positives and negatives on both sides of the argument. It was a good thing my job was not to have an opinion. If I had been a board member, I wouldn’t have known what to do.
After a solid hour of debate, Marc pushed the meeting along by asking for a vote on the resolutions. All of the resolutions were approved under one vote, with all board members voting in the affirmative. I wondered why they weren’t required to abstain on the refund resolution, since it contained three of their names. The attorney didn’t speak up and I decided not to speak up either for fear of being badgered by Marc, the Village Idiot, or Winifred, the Village Hooker. A little later, I realized they wouldn’t have had enough votes to pass the resolution with three of them requiring refunds if they abstained. I also realized I should have caught that prior to the meeting, that all three of them were on the resolution, and I should have separated the refunds out into separate resolutions so they could abstain. Being preoccupied with dead bodies and who killed them made it difficult to concentrate at work.
When the meeting was finished, I noticed Nero had
vanished. Maybe he wasn’t so stupid after all. I think he knew that I was furious and that he’d better not stick around.
Chapter 10
The day following any governing body meeting was always a crazy day. All the follow-up from the night before was sitting on my desk to be completed. The phone was ringing off the hook with requests for information from last night’s meeting as well. I felt like I was drowning in paperwork. Bonnie stopped in my office to ask me for a copy of the tax refund resolution that was approved at the meeting.
“Oh yeah, I wouldn’t want Marc, Winifred, or John to have to wait to get their tax refund,” I joked.
“Yeah, we wouldn’t want those planning board members to wait either,” Bonnie said.
“Oh, that’s who those were! I thought there were more names that sounded familiar on that resolution.”
“You would think that people who work or volunteer here wouldn’t be so stupid as to pay their taxes twice,” Bonnie said.
“It’s usually not the people who mix that up; it’s usually the mortgage company,” I explained to Bonnie.
“Oh, well…anything else happen last night?”
“Funny you should ask. Mike Nero showed up and almost professed his dying love for me in front of everyone.”
“I would have kicked his ass from here to China if he did that to me,” Bonnie said.
“I found a way to stop him, but boy, was I mad!”
“What a wacko. Are you sure he’s not dangerous?”
“His cousin said he’s not. I trust his cousin. I think he’s got some sort of weird idea that if he wants something bad enough, all he has to do is keep trying.”
“It’s the dangling participles. They make men stupid. Let me know if you need me to go over there and remove one of them for you. Maybe that will smarten him up; give him some common sense.”
Just then, Gino Righetti appeared at the window.
Bonnie’s eyes lit up. I heard her whisper, “Finally, some eye candy.” She rushed to the window and said, with a large smile on her face, “Hello, how may I help you?”
Gino announced that he had a meeting with Marc and Winifred. Bonnie offered to escort him to the conference room. He declined; he said he knew where it was. He also asked me for copies of the two ordinances from last night’s meeting.
“When are the public hearings on these ordinances?” Gino asked in a deep, gruff voice. He sent chills down my spine. There was something evil about him, despite his good looks.
“The bond ordinance hearing is the 19th,” I said.
“Why isn’t it next week?” he asked.
“It’s because there’s not enough time to get the ordinance properly advertised by next week, so it has to be the following week.”
“Oh, that’s right, there needs to be a certain number of days before the hearing.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“What would happen if you had the hearing next week anyway?”
“Someone could challenge the ordinance, making it invalid. We’d have to start over again to get it passed,” I explained.
He scratched his chin and thought about that for a minute. “How about the condemnation ordinance?”
“April sixteenth,” I said.
Gino lowered his eyebrows in the most intimidating way. “Why so long?”
“The bond ordinance has to be in effect so that the money is in place before we adopt the condemnation ordinance. There’s a twenty-day waiting period we have to abide by after the bond ordinance is adopted.”
Gino was absolutely not happy about this time frame. As fast as they were pushing this paperwork through, there were enough laws to make it seem like it wasn’t fast at all. Gino turned and left without saying goodbye.
“Who was that?” Bonnie asked.
“He’s a developer. And he may be that mob guy that the former tax clerk told us about.”
“Does he come around often?”
“Seriously? You act like you are single.”
“I do not. I love Jayce. I’m just having some fun. Besides, I was asking for you…in case things with Kris don’t work out.”
“Well, let’s hope things do work out. And if he is that mob guy, then why on Earth would you want me to get with him?”
“You’re cranky; you need to get laid.”
I rolled my eyes. “I have another date with Kris scheduled for this weekend.”
“Good luck! Call me and let me know how it goes.”
“I will,” I said as my phone started to ring.
It was Babs Todaro.
“Hi, Babs. How can I help you today?”
She started crying.
“What’s the matter, Babs?” I asked.
“Why doesn’t anyone believe me?”
“I believe you; who doesn’t believe you?”
“My daughter, the police, my nephew.” Babs started crying even harder. “They all think I’m an old fool,” she said. “I might be old and a little slow, but I never lie. I know what’s going on, and no one will listen.”
I felt really bad that she was crying and was so upset. “Why don’t you tell me, Babs? I’m not sure I can help, but I can at least listen.”
“It’s that village president. Marc Co…Co…Co…”
“Coglione,” I said.
Babs continued, “He’s corrupt. I know he is doing bad things with the tooth fairy.”
Ah, she’s still on the tooth fairy kick, I thought.
She babbled about the tooth fairy, how there was money involved, and other things that I didn’t quite understand. I felt so sorry for this poor old woman. Maybe if she didn’t talk about mythical creatures, like tooth fairies, people would take her more seriously. I was wondering myself if Marc was corrupt or if he had anything to do with Vinny’s death. I wondered if behind her rantings, there was an ounce of accuracy. Unfortunately, there was no way to tell.
* * *
Gino made his way down the hallway to the conference room. Marc and Winifred were there, awaiting his arrival. Gino closed the door and took a seat at the head of the table. He leaned back and crossed his ankle over his opposite knee. He rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and raised his hand toward his face. His chin rested on his massive hand. His pinky was adorned with a large, gold ring. He sat for a minute, acting as if he was deep in thought. Then, he finally spoke.
“I don’t like how long these ordinances are going to take to adopt,” Gino said.
“We’re holding up our end of the bargain,” Marc said.
“We can’t help it if the laws don’t let us move quicker and you certainly wouldn’t want there to be suspicion surrounding us if we circumvented the laws. You’d have to wait even longer,” Winifred reasoned.
“I don’t like it.”
“I’ll check into it. I’ll see if there’s anything we can do to move faster,” Marc added.
Gino nodded and slid an envelope of cash in the direction of each of them. “For your trouble,” he said.
Chapter 11
In the wee hours of the morning, nocturnal creatures picked through garbage bags for remains of human food. Marc Coglione made his way toward the new townhouse project on foot. A chill was in the air, along with dampness from the morning dew.
“Why did you want to meet with me, Marc?” a deep voice asked, the moisture from his warm breath creating a cloudy mist against the dark background of the predawn, morning sky.
“I’m just nervous, is all. You guys weren’t careful at all about Mr. Craft. The police have identified him. I thought you said that no one would ever find the bodies.”
“I had nothing to do with that.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I thought you were the cleaner. Looks like you’re getting sloppy and I’m not sure I want any part of this. When the police start pointing fingers…”
“I ain’t no cleaner. You got it wrong. I’m just the moneyman. And you know what, Marc? You are already a part of this. The police aren’t ever going to figure out who did it
. And I’d watch myself if I were you. Gino Righetti and his crew would gladly finger you in all this. You don’t think they’ve taken steps already to frame you if anything should happen? You’re in up to your eyeballs. Heed my advice. Look the other way and keep your trap shut!”
“That would be an easier pill for me to swallow if there were some reassurances.”
“Well, Marc, you’re getting paid a decent amount of money and that’s all the reassurances you’re going to get right now.”
Marc handed the man the envelopes of money that he and Winifred received the day before from Gino.
“I’ll take care of this. Now you be on your way,” the man said.
Marc hung his head low and turned to leave.
“And Marc?”
Marc twisted his neck to look back at the man holding the envelopes.
“Don’t come around again, don’t call me, and don’t be asking for any more reassurances.”
* * *
Newspaper headlines for Friday, March seventh appeared big and bold on the grayed page. ‘Prominent Coral Beach Resident Found Dead in Surf.’ I shuffled back into my house in my slippers and robe while reading the article. “The body found on the shores of Coral Beach on Monday was identified as local resident, Eugene Craft. Mr. Craft was found only a few feet away from his home. Mr. Craft was active in the community and was a large supporter of the Humane Society…Police have labeled the death as a homicide. If anyone has any details about the death, please call the Coral Beach Police Department…”
The lines on the page elicited a gut-wrenching fear from deep inside my stomach. The sight of the dead body that I had discovered flashed in my head. I shivered. I didn’t have a lot of time to dwell on the sadness that loomed inside me. I had to get showered, take care of my daughter, and get myself to work on time. My hectic life was a blessing in disguise. Had I actually had time to think about it, I’m sure I would have been nauseous.
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