She sighed. “I hope so.”
She didn’t have long to wait. Bealer handled the first two cases in short order, first a rundown rental property with inoperable air-conditioning units followed by a corner market on a side street off Federal Highway that installed a non-compliant electric sign without a permit. Both defendants left with frowns and consent orders.
Magistrate Bealer picked up a file, glanced at the cover, and announced, “Bloom & Grow Nursery. Is the owner here?”
Lily took a deep breath and stood up. “I’m here, sir.”
“Well, well, well,” drawled a feminine voice behind her.
Lily turned and saw Delia Armstead slide into a seat behind Whittenhurst and his cohorts.
Good Lord! Is Delia Armstead the buyer?
Garrett reached into his pocket and offered Rhett his comb. “Looks like you raked your hands through there a few hundred times.”
Rhett scowled, ran the comb through his hair, and handed it back. “Watch the road.”
Garrett was pushing eighty-five in Rhett’s Navigator and prayed his friend’s radar detector worked properly. A ticket could make them too late. He had already prayed Lily wasn’t one of the first cases on the agenda for they were cutting it too close as it was. He also knew from experience that the agenda was set ahead of time and walk-ins came last. His mole had informed him Lily’s spot in front of the Code Compliance Magistrate had been set for at least two weeks.
“Did Lily ever mention having code enforcement problems?” he asked Rhett.
“Not a word.”
“Or that someone was trying to buy her property?”
“We have only been back together a few days.” He winced. “Were back together.”
“I don’t suppose you want to tell me why you think you’ve lost her permanently?” Garrett glanced over his shoulder and signaled to change lanes. “You might be wrong, you know. It’s not like you cheated on her or anything.”
When Rhett didn’t answer, Garrett glanced over, saw him grimace, and felt his own jaw drop. “You didn’t! You asshole! If I wasn’t driving this car, I’d beat you senseless.”
“You could try,” Rhett snarled. “And no, I didn’t cheat. But Lily thinks I did.”
Garrett alternated his glare between the turnpike lane and his friend. “You want to explain that?”
“No,” Rhett growled.
A moment later, he let loose a disgusted sigh. “Lily walked in when I looked in flagrante delicto with Delia.”
“Dammit! You said you didn’t cheat!” Garrett exploded.
“And I also said I looked in flagrante delicto.”
He dragged a hand through his freshly combed hair, and Garrett pushed the comb back at him. Rhett buzzed down his window and threw the comb out on the highway.
“Nice.”
“I was coming out of the shower, towel around my waist, and walked right into Delia in a see-through negligee. My damn bed was strewn with rose petals.”
“Holy crap! A total seduction scene.”
Rhett nodded grimly.
“I’m gonna kill Delia myself. So what happened?”
“I grabbed Delia’s arm to toss her out, when she wouldn’t leave willingly, and I stepped on the hem of her gown. She went down and took me with her. I lost the towel on the way down. And when I looked up, Lily was in the doorway. I haven’t seen her since.”
“Holy crap!”
“Will you stop saying that!”
“Okay. Wow, that’s really shocking.”
Rhett glowered at him.
“So what are you going to do?”
“You tell me how I explain that to Lily?” Rhett turned to stare out the passenger window and shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Well, the first thing we do is save Lily’s land and then figure out what Whittenhurst had planned to do with the parcel,” Garrett said and stomped down on the accelerator.
“It would seem we have two issues here,” Magistrate Bealer said, perusing the open file before him.
At Bealer’s behest, Lily had taken a seat at the front table, placed her notes in front of her, and clasped her hands together on top to keep them steady. Contrary to his promise, the Code Enforcement manager had not shown up. Was he late or had he lied to her? She glanced back over her shoulder toward the Chamber entrance for the dozenth time.
“Looking for someone, Ms. Foster?” Whittenhurst hissed from across the aisle.
Lily glared at the weasel. “None of your business.”
“Oh, I beg to differ. Whether or not the Code Enforcement manager shows up for this hearing is totally my business since I convinced him his attendance was unnecessary.” Whittenhurst gave her a reptilian smile.
Lily caught her jaw just before it sagged open. He had cheated. Whittenhurst had somehow compromised her one and only hope.
“That bastard,” Tammy whispered and shot a hard glare at the weasely attorney.
His erupting chuckle made Lily’s fingers curl into one big fist. She turned her gaze forward to stare at the magistrate and wait for the official end of her hopes.
“The first issue concerns the existing residence on the business property, which, as Mr. Whittenhurst has pointed out in his brief, violates Town Ordinance 72.1.3: Non-Conforming Use of Commercial Buildings. You, Ms. Foster, have stated that your ability to remain in residence is a ‘grandfathered’ status since you were in residence prior to promulgation of the aforementioned regulation prohibiting said single-structured residences at commercial properties. Is that correct?”
“Yes, sir. I have lived in the cottage at Bloom & Grow since my birth, and—”
“And I have here a request for mandatory injunction countermanding your grandfathered status,” Bealer interjected, “and prohibiting your continued residence at the aforementioned property for reasons cited in case law herein.”
Lily stiffened. Things were speeding downhill fast. Far too late, she chastised herself for not securing an attorney, even if only as a backup to the testimony of the now-absent Code Enforcement manager. How had she been so shortsighted as not to see the need? Could an attorney have blocked the weasel Whittenhurst’s ploys or would the effort have done no good?
“Is Carstairs Whittenhurst present?” Bealer addressed the council chamber.
Whittenhurst rose to his feet. “I am, sir.”
Bealer nodded toward the table opposite Lily. “Please come forward and have a seat.”
Whittenhurst smirked at Lily as he took his place at the table across from hers.
“Now, Mr. Whittenhurst, I have reviewed your case law citations as to why Ms. Foster’s so-called grandfathered status should be voided. Do you have anything further to add?”
“No, sir. I believe my arguments to be concise and accurate.”
“Ms. Foster,” Bealer said, turning his attention back to her, “are you represented by legal counsel?”
She swallowed hard, her good judgment sliding down her throat in a big, fat lump. “No, sir, but I have a presentation I’d like—”
“Ms. Foster,” Bealer interrupted her again, “do you have legal arguments to defend your grandfathered status and to refute Mr. Whittenhurst’s case law arguments?”
Lily shook her head. “No, sir.”
“Have you, in fact, added two large greenhouses and two five-acre planting fields, each with irrigation, since 1995 at which time the non-conforming use of commercial buildings prohibition was promulgated into City of Jupiter Code?”
All hope dissipated. “Yes, sir.”
“Then I’m afraid, Ms. Foster, I’m going to have to rule in favor of Mr. Whittenhurst’s complaint and instruct you to vacate said residence on your commercial property or be in violation of City of Jupiter Ordinance 72.1.3.”
“I can give you a thirty-day extension in which to comply in order to find a new domicile and move your things. You may appeal for an extension of thirty additional days, if necessary.”
“I won’t need the thirty days,” she said.
Her chin went up. She refused to cower in defeat.
“You mean the thirty additional days?” Bealer rejoined.
“No, I mean the first thirty days.”
“I beg your pardon?” Bealer stared at her over the top of his reading glasses. “Don’t you have to move your belongings?”
She cleared her throat of the lump forming. “I have nothing to move.”
Bealer frowned. “And why is that? Do you not live there? Because if we’ve wasted taxpayer’s time over—”
“My cottage burned down last week.” She shot a brief glare at Whittenhurst who stared straight ahead.
Bealer looked justifiably shocked. “What are you talking about?”
“My house burned down,” Lily repeated. “My propane tank blew up and set my house on fire,” she added, enunciating every word.
“Why don’t I already know this?” he asked, then looked over at Whittenhurst.
“Because the explosion was intentionally set,” Lily said flatly.
Garrett pulled Rhett’s Navigator up over the curb and onto the grass when he couldn’t find an open space in the parking lot at Jupiter Town Hall. Rhett had his seat belt unbuckled and was out the door before Garrett got the engine shut down.
Garrett sprinted after him and caught Rhett halfway to the entrance. Someone hollered, “Rhett! Garrett!”
They turned as one to see Aidan Cross racing across the grass lawn in front of Town Hall.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Rhett snarled and took a step toward Aidan. “If you’re mixed up in this with Whittenhurst—”
“Hell, no!” Aidan shouted back. “I came here to try to stop Whittenhurst. He’s trying to steal Lily’s nursery.”
“I know,” Rhett growled.
“And he tried to sell the nursery to me this morning.”
Garrett exchanged looks with Rhett. “At least now we know the why.”
Rhett gave Aidan a narrow-eyed glare. “Let’s go.”
His damned fingertips started to tingle, and he sprinted for Town Hall.
Bealer’s eyes went wide as he stared at Lily. Whittenhurst shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“The fire inspector’s initial investigation showed sabotage,” Lily clarified. “He’s waiting on samples to be sure.”
Bealer continued to stare at her for several long moments, then finally cleared his throat. “This new information certainly changes—”
“—nothing!” Whittenhurst exclaimed. “Absolutely nothing. My legal complaint is based on negating a misplaced grandfathered status on the ability to retain a residence at this business. The improvements have been duly completed, and the grandfathered status is lost. It matters not whether the house has burned, but only that it cannot be replaced.”
Bealer stared at Whittenhurst as if he had just sprouted two additional heads.
Whittenhurst extended his palms in a conciliatory gesture. “If that seems cold, well, the law often is. As you well know, Magistrate Bealer.”
Bealer cleared his throat again. “Yes, I suppose that’s . . . correct. The loss of grandfathered status, I mean.”
He glanced over at Lily. “I have so ruled on that particular code violation.”
Lily felt dizzy and grabbed the edge of the table. The fire inspector’s suspicions were her only ace-in-the-hole, once the Code Enforcement manager no-showed, and she should have known better. It was a sympathy ploy only. She was fighting attorneys. She should have hired one. She had risked her home and livelihood and the gainful employment of her dearest friends on bad judgment. Her bad judgment. She swore in that moment to spend the last dime of Hank’s trust fund making the nursery code-compliant and taking care of her employees—her family.
Whittenhurst had won handily. The nursery had indeed been improved over the years, and her code violations did exist. And if Whittenhurst hadn’t had a rich client who wanted her property, no one would ever have known or cared.
“We can now move on to the subsequent code violations, magistrate,” Whittenhurst said smarmily, “which—after hearing about the propane tank—I conclude may be more numerous than I previously thought.”
“Mr. Whittenhurst, must I remind you that I am running this meeting?” Bealer snapped.
Too little too late.
“My apologies, Magistrate Bealer,” Whittenhurst said, seemingly penitent.
Lily stared straight ahead and gamely waited for Whittenhurst to itemize her list of code violations. Hank would tell her to “take it like a man,” and so she intended to, though nothing in all her time working at the nursery could feel worse than this. She would rather be slapped than hear her beloved nursery publicly denigrated at a city code hearing.
Thankfully, neither Rob nor Tammy said a word. Somehow, her two best friends knew her emotions were hanging by a tenuous thread, and both waited patiently beside her until the verbal assault on her nursery had concluded.
Oh, Dad, nothing could be worse than this, could it?
“Mr. Whittenhurst, before you go through your sundry list of code violations, I have one question. What is your interest in this—” Bealer paused and stared at the open file in front of him. “—rundown property as you call it?”
Lily bristled. How dare Whittenhurst call her nursery rundown? She sat up straight and shot a glare at the weasel attorney.
“Are you or a client intent on purchase of said property?” Bealer wanted to know. “I ask, because I always take intent into consideration when forming a decision on code complaints. Intent has a way of tilting the playing field and coloring the facts.”
Finally.
Lily watched Whittenhurst’s face flush darker with each question and comment.
“As a concerned citizen, I have compiled the list of code violations in front of you,” Whittenhurst responded. A muscle twitched in his cheek.
“May I remind you that while you are not under oath, it is understood that you will give your responses as if you were,” Bealer said.
“I do not need to be reminded,” Whittenhurst snapped.
Bealer’s brows rose, and Whittenhurst eased back in his chair.
“Did a client pay you to investigate this property, Mr. Whittenhurst?”
Whittenhurst stared at Bealer for several long moments as though trying to decide how to respond. This seemed odd as the weasel had been so ready with his prior responses he had almost answered before the questions were asked. Bealer’s under oath comment had apparently slowed Whittenhurst down.
“Mr. Whittenhurst—”
Lily waited, holding her breath.
“Yes,” Whittenhurst finally replied, “I was to try to purchase the parcel.”
Lily exhaled. Dared she hope?
“And who is this client?”
Again, Whittenhurst paused for so long that Lily feared Bealer would be forced to intervene.
Whittenhurst looked up at Bealer and swallowed hard. The knot bobbed in his perfectly tied tie, and he replied, “BDC.”
“No,” Lily whispered.
A chill swept over her, and a shiver vibrated her spine. She felt hands on her arms—Rob and Tammy.
It couldn’t be. If that were true, then Rhett had played her from the very beginning. She didn’t want to believe it. There had to be several corporations with those
same initials.
“I’m not familiar with that company. Who owns BDC?” Bealer asked impatiently.
“Rhett Buchanan,” a deep voice said from the back of the courtroom.
Lily gasped and spun around. Tammy and Rob turned and glared at the newest entrant to the council chamber.
Rhett stood straight and tall in the center aisle, his eyes glued to Bealer who motioned him forward. Aidan Cross stepped into the chamber behind Rhett.
Good grief! The two of them were in this together.
Lily watched Rhett start down the aisle, and she couldn’t form a single rational thought. She felt numb, as though a paralysis had hijacked all her nerve endings. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t feel.
The whole world seemed to stop for one brief catastrophic moment that felt like a volcanic upheaval in her brain—an eruption that cauterized the last remaining hope she hadn’t realized she still harbored. The last teeny, tiny shred of hope that she and Rhett could work things out, that what she had seen at his mansion was all a dreadful mistake—an aberration. Her hope for a Cinderella fairy tale suddenly incinerated to a puff of ash.
Dear God! The first man I ever loved was behind all this?
She tried to take a breath, but couldn’t seem to pull any air into her lungs. She felt as though all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, and she would suffocate in the vacuum. She stumbled toward the aisle as Rhett strode forward. Tears stung the backs of her eyelids, and if she didn’t get outside in the next few seconds, he would see how badly he had hurt her. Her pride would not allow that. She couldn’t bear to look at him. Her heart thumped hard against the inside wall of her chest with every ponderous beat.
“Lily.”
She heard him call her name and felt his fingertips sweep across her arm. With her last bit of strength, she jerked her arm free. “Get away from me.”
Cinderella Busted (The Cinderella Romances #1) Page 31