by Emery, Lynn
“Charlotte called you directly?” Bridges frowned slightly.
“We were talkin’ about this other job I got for a friend of mine and she mentioned it. Now here's what I've been thinkin’, those old houses I own downtown would be perfect. What with them developing down there, more and more of the young professionals are moving in those neighborhoods.” Ike pulled out a map of downtown.
“But if you get that money, you're supposed to rent the renovated units to low income, elderly, or disabled tenants,” Bridges said.
“True, but the regs or so full of holes you can drive a truck through 'em. We can legally rent or sell those houses at premium prices.” Ike looked up at him.
“I don't understand.” Bridges stared at the map.
“The regs don't specifically say the elderly or disabled have to be low income for one thing.”Ike grinned.
“Yeah, and if the landlord can document that rentin’ to a low income family causes him a loss on the property over time, you can pay the money back at a only nine percent interest.” Buster shrugged.
“But listen to this, so many smart operators are takin’ advantage of the program that the feds don't have nearly enough staff to keep up with it all. So what happens? Nobody is checking to see if they're even following the regs. I got a pal in New Jersey who's rentin’ houses for as much as $950 a month. No old people, no disabled people, damn sure no poor people.” Ike grinned in admiration of his friends’ cunning.
“Easy money.” Buster ground out his cigarette.
“I don't know, Ike. Maybe we better not push our luck any more than we have to.” Bridges shifted around in his seat.
“Settle down, James. Things are fine and they're gonna stay that way.” Ike took his elbow and ushered him to the door. “You just go on back to your office and forget about Connely. Everything gonna work out. Bye now.” He beamed at a still frowning Bridges before closing the door.
Buster stood with his arms folded. “Ain't never seen James that uptight before. Think he's right? Maybe we should be worried about the DA.”
“Nah, James just gettin’ jumpy in his old age,” Ike said.
“I dunno. Connely's investigators are askin' a lot of questions, but it's different this time. Sorta like they know what they're lookin' for, but they ain't gonna go directly to it. I can't put my finger on what it is though.” Buster stuck a slice of gum in his mouth.
“They’re fishin'. All we gotta do is keep our heads and don't do anything stupid. Besides, I got a little bit of insurance.” Ike blew out smoke rings.
“What kinda insurance?”
“A certain young lady workin' in the DA's office is keeping me well informed. That's how I know what to tell Charlotte about her records.”
“Damn, Ike. You better hope all them ladies don't ever get together to compare notes.”Buster gave a short bark of laughter.
“Not hardly. Besides, my interest don't depend on either one of them. Remember what I've always said, Buster; don't get into to anything with anybody that has less to lose than you, and always have a plan B.”Ike tapped ashes from the end of his cigar into a large ceramic ashtray.
***
“Not another delay. I don't know how much longer I can stall my bosses, Greg.” Michelle's finger tapped rapidly on the table.
“Can't you keep doing stories on people in the projects and houses? They’ve been real good.” Greg stared at her apprehensively.
“That was okay for a while, but it's all about ratings. Scandal and criminal wrongdoing make for good ratings. Now what's the problem?” Michelle pushed back a section of her thick hair.
“For some reason Miss Kinchen has been real careful 'bout the records. She kept putting off letting anybody touch 'em but her. My friend says she was real tense for a couple of weeks, almost like she knew something was gonna happen. You didn't tell nobody what we were planning? With the work orders and invoices I mean,” Greg whispered.
“Greg, please.” Michelle gave him an admonishing look.
“Yeah, sorry. But something made Miss Kinchen nervous for a while. Anyway I'm supposed to call my friend at home now so maybe we'll get good news. That's why I wanted to meet you later than usual. Be right back.” Greg got a quarter from his shirt pocket and headed for the pay phone tucked in a corner of the restaurant.
Michelle sat sipping a small cup of coffee staring out into the dark through the wide window. A steady stream of customer came in for takeout orders leaving with bags of hamburgers and French fries. Michelle was not the least bit tempted. With Thanksgiving approaching, she fully intended to watch her diet now so she could indulge herself later. A couple entered with their arms draped around each other's waist. Michelle watched them scan the menu, faces close together as they decided what to order. Thoughts of the last few weeks with Anthony filled her mind. She could almost feel his arms pressing her body, smell the spicy odor of his skin. Before the sight of a loving couple would have caused her to turn away, not wanting to acknowledge what she was missing. Now she smiled in anticipation of seeing Anthony later.
Greg spoke into the phone quietly but gave her a thumbs-up sign. He was nodding as he turned his back to her. Michelle's bright, happy thoughts dimmed to foreboding. The information Greg's friend would give her might cool the blissful warmth she and Anthony had worked so hard to restore.
Greg came back and sat down. “Tomorrow she's supposed to start organizing all of the files, including work orders and invoices. She says Miss Kinchen has been in a better mood for the last couple of days. She asked my friend to work on the files today. They'll be sending all of 'em over six months old to be stored at the warehouse.”
“Oh.”Michelle looked down.
“Hey, I thought you'd be glad. A few minutes ago you were upset because nothin’ was happenin’.”
“No, I mean I am glad.” Michelle smiled tentatively. “At least now I can get Jason, the king of jerks, off my case.” Pulling on her large shoulder bag, she got up from the booth.
“I'll be in touch as soon as she tells me the first package is ready.” Greg waved goodbye as he drove away.
Later that day Michelle sat in the producer's office. Jason was behind Lockport's desk as though he wanted to make sure she knew he was figuratively as well as literally closer to the seat of power than she. Michelle made an effort not to make a snide remark.
“Frankly, Mr. Lockport, I don't think we should waste any more time on this. Obviously the DA hasn't come up with anything. If they had Connely would moving forward with a grand jury.” Jason lifted a shoulder.
“The DA isn't stupid, Mr. Lockport. He's not going to blab about his investigation and give those folks a chance to destroy evidence or intimidate possible witnesses. Just because he isn't sending out press releases doesn't mean he has nothing.” Michelle pointedly ignored Jason.
“Connely is a politician who loses no opportunity to show the public he's cracking down on crime. Believe me, he would have been talking by now.” Jason propped a hand on the back of Lockport's chair.
“He's a smart man who knows that talking too soon or moving on a case with flimsy evidence means egg on his face. Not good for an elected official, especially with an election coming up in only six months.” Michelle continued to look at Lockport.
“How much longer before you can look at those documents from your source?” Lockport's fingers formed a steeple in front of his face partially hiding his expression.
“Two, three weeks at most.” Michelle's lips twitched in an effort not to smile. He was hooked. But Lockport liked to think he made decisions based on his own intuition. It would not do to look self-satisfied now.
“And you feel confident about your source's ability to deliver?” Lockport lowered his hands. He regarded her with an iron gaze.
“Definitely.” Michelle did not bat an eye.
“Go with it.” Lockport nodded curtly then turned his attention to other matters.
Although Lockport began questioning him about a series on
the police department, Jason's eyes were still on Michelle. Giving him a sassy wink, she left the room with jaunty step. But out of his sight, her confidence sagged. There were long hours of hard work ahead without any guarantee she would be able to live up to her words. Michelle offered up a silent prayer that her source would not get frightened and fail to deliver.
***
For the next three days Michelle gathered information about hazardous conditions in four of the largest low rent housing projects. LaWanda, through her network of tenants groups, was able to provide her with more than a few good leads. Michelle had a plotted out a grueling schedule by the end of the week.
Earl threw down his notebook in frustration. “Say, Michelle. You mind if the rest of us get video for our stories, or is Bob under exclusive contract to you?”
“Don't whine, babe. It's so unattractive.” Michelle continued to tap on her keyboard.
“Listen ace reporter, some of us are working on important stories, too. My piece on riverboat casinos and river safety needs footage. How am I going to get it?”
Bob doubled up working the camera in the studio on some newscast and going out with reporters with a mini-cam. He had the most experience of the three cameramen employed by the station. The least experienced and least liked, Robert C. Mansur III was working his way up to be their boss someday.
“Use Trenton-- no Gracie has him booked. I bet Junior is free.” Michelle just managed to keep a straight face though she knew how he would react to her suggestion.
Earl threw up both hands. “Great. Throw me the crumbs. A wet nosed kid that can't go two seconds without bragging that the station manager is his uncle, the owner his grandfather, and he'll probably be our boss someday.”
“He's not that bad. Just think of it as an opportunity to broaden his horizons. Introduce the lad to cultural diversity,” Michelle chuckled.
“I'd like to introduce him to the guys at Boostie’s Pool Room on a Friday night.” Earl had a mean glint in his eye.
“Tsk, tsk. Be nice.”
Earl craned his neck trying to read the text on her monitor. “Story heating up, huh?”
“Yep. Hey, get out of here.” Michelle hit a button causing colorful tropical fish to appear on the screen. “Move along, sonny, and let grown folks get to work.”She pushed him away.
“No problem. I have things to do. By the way, a friend of mine works at the New Orleans HUD office. But I guess you wouldn't be interested in anything I might contribute.” Earl started to leave.
“Whoa! Hold up, home boy. You know I have the greatest respect for you.” Michelle caught up with him putting an arm around his shoulder. “In fact, let's sit down and figure out which day you can use Trenton or Bob. Right after we talk about your friend at HUD. Have a seat. Coffee?” She firmly turned him around and walked him back to her desk.
“Don't overdo it, Toussaint.” Laughing, Earl held up a restraining hand.
“So spill.” Michelle hitched her chair closer to his.
“Larry, my friend, goes around to the various federal public housing agencies monitoring compliance with regulations and laws. If he finds financial irregularities, he calls in the accountants and even lawyers. In some instances, he can get the Justice Department involved.”
“You mean he's on to wrong doing with our Housing Authority? The Justice Department is coming?”Michelle's eyes widened with excitement.
“Don't start writing your acceptance speech for the award ceremony yet. No, the Justice Department is not coming. But Larry has been concerned about Charlotte Kinchen for the last two years. Until now, he couldn't get a handle on what was up with her. Says she blamed the run down conditions on the tenants. Ms. Kinchen swore they tore up the apartments as fast as she could repair them. He had no choice but to back off since she could show him work orders and invoices.” Earl paused dramatically.”Until now.”
“Why now?”
“None of the tenants had been willing to talk to him, a guy in a suit with a mid-western accent. But I told him about your series and he's very interested.”
“Did you tell him about the DA investigating, too?” Michelle stared ahead deep in thought.
“Yes.”
“Will you give me your friend's phone number? Tell him I'll be calling him in the next day or so. I've got an idea.” Michelle began to write in a note pad.
“What do have in mind?”Earl searched in his wallet finally pulling out a business card. He handed it to her. “Here. You can keep it. I have another one.”
“Be interesting to see if he can remember which apartments he reviewed and compare it to the requests for repairs I get from my source.”
“Kinchen could still say the tenants just tore it up afterwards.”
“Maybe,” Michelle said in a reflective tone. Suddenly a light seemed to pop on behind her eyes. “Gotta go.” She grabbed her large bag and the note pad.
“See ya.” Earl watched her retreating back. He reached down to her keyboard.
“Almost forgot to log out.” Michelle spoke over his shoulder causing him to jump back from the computer.
“I was, uh, just trying to clear that for you.”
“Sure you were, Mr. Snoop.” Michelle saved the file under her password. Patting him indulgently on the head, she left.
***
“LaWanda, open up.”Michelle knocked on the door.
“Hey, girl. What you doin' here so late? Get your butt in here. You crazy? I don't hardly look out my window this time of night.”LaWanda pulled her inside. “It's after eight o'clock.”
“Hello, sugar plums.”Michelle smiled at the children as they spoke to her shyly.
“Go on now; it's time for y'all to be in bed.” LaWanda shooed her oldest two into a back bedroom. After pouring them both a glass of cola, she sat down on the couch next to Michelle. “What's up?”
“I've got a source in the Authority giving me information. And I may get a connection in the HUD office,” Michelle said, keeping her voice low.
“So?”
“Turns out they've been keeping an eye on Charlotte Kinchen for a while now. They aren't at all satisfied with the way things are going.”
“Well, they sure ain't done a whole lot about it.” LaWanda snorted in disgust. “What makes you think they gone do something now?”
“For one thing, they couldn't get the goods on them. Charlotte Kinchen has the paperwork to cover her butt. For another, the last time a HUD official came to investigate none of the tenants complained to him.”Michelle took a drink of her cola.
“What did he expect? Miz Kinchen took him to the Evergreen Street complex. They keep them up so anytime they get somebody important wantin' a tour, that's where they take 'em. Then they went to Weston Place. Them old people wasn't gonna complain with her standin' there lookin' down their throats. If they had, she'd have chucked 'em out on the sidewalk soon as he left town.” LaWanda shook her head.
“Damn, LaWanda, why didn't y'all tell the man?”
“When we knew anything 'bout it, he was long gone. Baby, they don't advertise them visits. But you better believe if we had talked to him, he woulda got an earful.”
“Well that same man is a friend of a friend of mine.” Michelle leaned towards her and placed a hand on LaWanda's arm.
“Get outta here!” LaWanda's mouth flew open.
“And I've got a plan to turn the heat up.” Michelle leaned towards her dropping her voice even lower.
***
“Things are going pretty smooth right now.” Charlotte Kinchen straightened the designer silk scarf draped across one shoulder. With her short cropped black hair and meticulous make-up she was the consummate successful working woman. Her teal skirt was short enough to reveal shapely legs yet long enough to be business like.
“You've chilled out lately. Glad to see it.” Lonnie Mason lounged in the chair facing her desk.
“Things have been very hectic. But certain concerns have been taken care of.”Charlotte shuffled papers on
her desk.
“The DA took you off his list or something? You must have some good connections to make that happen.”
Charlotte eyed him distastefully. “The DA has no evidence to prove any improprieties have occurred.”
“You mean your sugar daddy gone take care of any evidence. Ain't that so, sweet thing?”Lonnie leered at her.
Charlotte tilted her chin higher.”I mean there is no evidence because there has been no wrong doing.”
“What about how you been jugglin' records around? If you ask me, I'd say you was gettin' set to shred 'em any time you got a phone call.” Lonnie watched her face closely.
“Records have not been `juggled around' as you put it. And I didn't ask you. You just be head janitor, that's what you're being paid to do,” Charlotte sniffed.
Lonnie grinned despite her jab.” Calm down, brown sugar. I'm on your side. I wanna help. All you gotta do is say the word.” He sat on the desk and leaned down. With his face inches from hers, he ran his tongue over his lips. “What you need is a man, a real man.”
“Is that right?” Charlotte's breath came in short gasps. “You I suppose?”
“Don't be so quick to turn up your nose. I got a lot to give.” Lonnie's hand rubbed her thigh pushing the skirt up.
“An ex-con with nothing. You must be kidding.” Charlotte's voice broke as she watched his hand in fascination. “You couldn't supply half of what I need.”Despite her words, she did not move away or stop his hand from lifting her shirt.
“Money is no problem. As for lovin', I can damn sure do better than either one of those fools you been leadin' around by the nose.” With a sly smile, he gave her inner thigh a sharp squeeze then pulled his hand away. He chuckled softly when he saw her shiver slightly. Casually, as if nothing had happened, he went back to sit across from her.
“I don't know what you're talking about.” Charlotte closed her eyes for a few seconds and cleared her throat.