On the Corner of Hope and Main

by Beverly Jenkins

“That’s yet to be determined, but I’ll take a wild guess and say in the hundreds of thousands at the current market rate.” He scanned the room. Some of the men were still staring in awe at the stacked money in their hand. “Anyone else?”

  There were no other questions. “Then let’s call it a night. Go home, and think about what we discussed. I’ll let you know when we’ll meet again. Thanks for your time.”

  The men left, Stillwell remained.

  “Do you have the lease agreement?”

  “My lawyers are working on it. They’re busy people. They can’t just drop everything for something as small as a property lease.” He fought not to react to the menace Stillwell exuded.

  “When do you expect them to find the time?”

  “Probably a week. Maybe ten days.”

  “You have ten days. Not a day more.”

  “Don’t threaten me, Stillwell.”

  “Or what? You going to call the police? We both know everything you said tonight was bullshit. Corporations aren’t going to buy land here. You’re as crooked as Riley, just better dressed.”

  Leo’s jaw tightened. He wanted to plant a fist in Stillwell’s face, but knew he’d get his butt kicked. The farmer was five inches taller and built like a silo. “Anything else?”

  “Just this. You obviously think you’re dealing with a bunch of ignorant farmers, but when the truth comes out, and it will, watch your back.”

  “More threats?”

  “No. Just the truth.” He strode out.

  Later, the still angry Leo sat sipping his evening cognac and mentally reviewed the meeting. All in all it went well. They’d been mesmerized by the cash, but the thousands he’d doled out was a mere drop in the bucket in the scheme of things. Back at the height of his career he’d spent more on a suit and a pair of shoes. That the money had come out of the oil company’s pocket and not his own made it even better. However, Stillwell was a problem.

  “I’m heading home, Mr. Brown.”

  He looked up to see Jane Hubbard standing in the doorway. “Okay. Thanks for the help.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Good night.” He knew Jane was married but wondered if she played around? She wasn’t bad-looking, but then again, any woman looked good to a man who’d been celibate for as long as he had. His celibacy aside, his thoughts drifted back to the meeting. Freewater was a problem, too. His huffy departure wouldn’t have been such a big deal if the current plan didn’t hinge so heavily on acquiring access to his land. Tomorrow he’d take a look at the county map and see if there was a way to bypass Freewater’s place and still go forward. Until then, he’d keep putting things in place, get a full investigative workup on Riley Curry, and try not think about Stillwell looming like a thunderstorm on the horizon.

  Chapter

  8

  The architect’s name was Jody Pilgrim. She’d come highly recommended from another member of the Bottom Women’s Society. Bernadine, looking up from the blueprints to the young woman from Nairobi, understood why. “This is spectacular, Ms. Pilgrim.”

  “Thank you. This is the first time I’ve designed a restaurant, but I took your suggestions, went online, checked out the layouts of some high-end, established places, and voilà.”

  “This is very nice,” Rocky agreed, eyeing the drawing with its wide windows and sleek style.

  Tina added, “And I love the cameo of the three women you have on the awning. Can we keep it as the trademark?”

  “If you decide you want it, we can work out the legal issues. A graphic designer in my shop came up with it. I like it a lot, too.”

  Bernadine said, “I think the graphic is perfect.” The head and shoulders silhouette of three women in period dress was encased in an oblong circle resembling a cameo. She liked other aspects and features as well: the spacious state-of-the-art kitchen, that the main room sat thirty people, and there was a separate space set aside for private gatherings. An outdoor dining area was another plus to the design, even if it would only be used during warmer weather.

  “Ideally, if all goes well, construction should take about six months,” Ms. Pilgrim offered.

  “We’ll see if that timeline jibes with our building crew.”

  “Not a problem. I’m told you should probably hire your chef as soon as possible just in case they want to tweak the kitchen layout.”

  Bernadine thought that made sense.

  Tina turned to Rocky. “How’s the search coming?”

  “Have two chefs that may be candidates. A man and a woman. Keeping my fingers crossed.”

  A few more minutes were spent discussing logistics of the build and praising the design. When they were done, Ms. Pilgrim exited to meet TC Barbour for the ride back to the airport. After her departure, Rocky shared info on the two chefs she was considering. She passed Bernadine and Tina the bios she’d received from the first two applicants to respond.

  The man wearing chef whites was named Thornton Webb. His round, dark-skinned face was seriously set. He looked to be maybe forty and owned a small, award-winning restaurant in San Francisco. Audra Perry, also in white, appeared much younger. She wore a smile that lit up her angular brown face. Bernadine found herself smiling back. “Which one would be your ideal pick, Rock?”

  “Webb because he has more experience. Perry’s an assistant sous chef in Kansas City. Not sure what we’d have to offer him in terms of big-city culture or amenities, but he seems genuinely interested.”

  Bernadine found her interest piqued. Why would a four-star chef want to trade San Francisco for the plains of Kansas?

  “He’s not in the Witness Protection Program, is he?” Tina asked.

  Rocky laughed. “Lord, I hope not.”

  Bernadine agreed wholeheartedly. The drama tied to last summer’s encounter had been enough to last a lifetime.

  Rocky asked, “Do you two want to be in on the interviews?”

  Bernadine and Tina nodded.

  “Okay. They’ll be here Monday evening. My plan is to hold the interviews Tuesday morning so they can head home that afternoon if they need to.”

  Bernadine thought that workable. There wasn’t anything in the bios indicating the chefs’ marital status. She wondered if they had family? “Would be nice if the B&B were up and running so we could offer them overnight housing.”

  “By the summer we’ll be ready to house the pope if we need to,” Tina pointed out.

  Bernadine laughed. For now though, their guests would be staying in Franklin.

  “Anything else you need from me?” Rocky asked.

  Bernadine couldn’t think of anything. Tina had no questions or concerns, either.

  “Then I’ll head back to the Dog and get on the lunch prep.”

  After her goodbye, Tina said, “Our restaurant is coming together.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Not sure which is more exciting, the restaurant or my B&B. The B&B probably because it’ll be all mine. Need to come up with a name for it.”

  Bernadine heard a knock and glanced over to see Trent July, Bing Shepard, Clay Dobbs, and Mike Freewater in her doorway. Concerned by their seriously set faces, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

  Trent said, “Can we bother you for a few minutes?”

  “Sure.”

  As they entered, Tina stood. “I have some emails to catch up on. Is it okay if I use the conference room?”

  Bernadine nodded.

  She left and Trent closed the door.

  “So, what’s up?” she asked.

  Bing said, “Leo.”

  She sighed. “Let me get a cup of coffee. Anyone want one?”

  No one did, so after pouring the brew into her mug, she settled back into her chair.

  After hearing Mike Freewater’s tale of Leo’s meeting with the farmers, Bernadine thought maybe she should’ve had a drink instead. “He gave them a thousand dollars? Each?”

  “Yes.”

  Bing asked, “Have you heard a
nything about any corporations wanting to buy up farmland?”

  “No, but I’ll be asking around. Were you or Clay invited to the meeting?”

  Clay shook his head. “Leo probably knew we wouldn’t play along. I talked to a couple of the guys who were. They were pretty impressed by the cash. Some are already talking about how much they might get for their land.”

  Bernadine shook her head in disgust. “He’s such a snake. I wonder what he’s really up to, besides no good.”

  “Me, too,” Trent replied.

  Mike said, “He made a point of saying it wasn’t a bribe. He called it a good faith payment from the corporations and asked that everyone think about voting for Riley and attending his rallies.”

  Bernadine sighed. “Okay. As I said, I’ve not heard anything about interests in land sales, but I’ll see what I can dig up.”

  Mike said, “I probably should’ve stayed at the meeting so I could know what else is going on with this.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I have it covered. I have another source of info on him.”

  Trent asked, “Really?”

  “Yes, and I’m not telling you more than that.” She asked Mike, “Was Big Al there?”

  “Yes.”

  Bing asked, “Wonder if he took money, too?”

  “Good question,” Clay noted. “There’re rumors that Leo’s going to lease some of Al’s land back to him.”

  “In exchange for what?” Bernadine asked.

  “Another good question,” Clay replied.

  “It won’t be out of the goodness of his heart, that’s for sure,” she added.

  Trent said, “I’m wondering if Leo’s in collusion with his old oil company buddies?”

  They kicked that around for a few minutes, but with no concrete evidence, all theories remained just that—theories, so the men stood to leave.

  Bernadine said to them, “Please keep me posted on anything else you hear, and I’ll let you know what I find out about the supposed land sales interest.”

  They agreed and left.

  Once she was alone again, Bernadine asked aloud, “What are you up to, Leo?” Turning to her laptop, she sent out a series of emails to try to find out.

  Tina came back in a short while later and Bernadine filled her in.

  “Interesting. Do you want me to get my network involved? Between the two of us we should be able to ferret out something.”

  “Would you?”

  “Not a problem. This is going to be my new home. Can’t have people shafting my neighbors. I’ll head back to the conference room and see what I can find.”

  “Thanks, Tina.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Pleased with the added help, Bernadine resumed her search.

  AFTER WORK, RILEY stood before the mirror in his bathroom trying out various facial expressions for his upcoming campaign flyer photo shoot. Leo Brown sent a text earlier saying he’d hired a photographer, so Riley wanted to be ready. He thought appearing serious might be a good look for the pictures, so he set his face, and viewed his solemn reflection. Deciding he appeared too aloof, he switched to a smile, then tried out one he deemed more thoughtful. He straightened his shoulders, raised his chin, and went for confident. Wondering if exuding intelligence might be better, he put on his reading glasses, eyed himself for a minute, then removed them. As the posing continued, he could already see the billboards and flashy newspaper ads sporting his face. He’d even come up with a tentative campaign slogan to brand himself: “Be Safe with Curry”—or something along those lines. He wanted the electorate to know that unlike Trent July, he’d not tolerate visits from hit men or hit women. One of his first duties as mayor would be to replace the Marine colonel guy as head of security with someone who knew what the heck they were doing. Had there been metal detectors in the rec center, the hit woman wouldn’t have been able to enter with her gun. As mayor, he’d make sure metal detectors were everywhere, from the church, to the hair salon, to the Dog. No one would be shot on his watch due to shoddy security protocol, and he and the citizens would demand Bernadine Brown pay for the machines. He’d also demand the candidates get a look at the mayor’s office to see what decor needed changing. After giving Colonel Payne the boot, the next person on the chopping block would be the current mayor’s assistant. No way would he be keeping former thug Bobby Douglas as his right-hand man, not with all those scary tattoos. Pleased with his plans, he resumed posing.

  An hour later, he drove out to Brown’s mansion to meet the photographer. He’d showered, shaved, slicked down his thinning dyed hair with baby oil, and put on his new black suit with the new plastic red rose in the lapel.

  Upon arrival, the housekeeper met him at the door and ushered him in. “Mr. Brown asked that I take you to the solarium. He’ll join you momentarily.”

  She led him to the glass-walled room and left him there. A few minutes later, she returned with a shapely brown-skinned woman and a young man loaded down with bags and equipment.

  The lady smiled at Riley. “Are you Mr. Curry?”

  He puffed up. “I am.”

  She walked over and extended her hand. “I’m Madeline Kroger. I’ll be taking the photos. This is my assistant, Greg Bunt.”

  Riley shook her hand and nodded a greeting at the assistant. “Pleased to meet you.” He looked on while they set up. Ms. Kroger walked around the room with a small light-measuring device. While she and her assistant discussed the best place to position the camera, Riley tried not to stare at how pretty she was. He saw no ring on her left hand and wondered if that meant she wasn’t married; not that someone like her would be interested in a man his age, but once she got a load of his smarts and potential as mayor, it could happen. “Are you local, Ms. Kroger?”

  She glanced over. “No. I’m from Kansas City.”

  “Ah. Long way from home.”

  “I am.”

  She moved behind the camera resting atop the tripod and looked through. Assuming she had the lens trained his way, he smiled and waggled his fingers in response.

  Leo Brown entered wearing a cashmere sweater, nice black pants, and black loafers. He smiled at the lady photographer. “Thanks for coming, Ms. Kroger.”

  “You’re welcome. My assistant, Greg.”

  He ignored the assistant and walked over to Riley. “Ready for your close-up?”

  Putting on his confident face, he said, “I am.”

  Ms. Kroger said, “Let’s get started then. Mr. Curry, give me a big smile.”

  “I’d like to start with something a bit more serious, if I may, and exude the confidence voters will be looking for.”

  She eyed him for a long moment before glancing at Brown, who said, “How about we go with what Ms. Kroger wants for now, Curry. She’s the professional.”

  Unhappy with the lack of support from Brown, Riley forced himself to smile.

  She took a few shots then said, “Okay, now give me a variety of looks.”

  Happier, he went through the poses he’d practiced in the mirror. To mix things up, he did a couple with his hand beneath his chin like the author photos on some of the books in the library. He took his reading glasses out of his pocket and put them on and turned himself sideways, so she could get his strong profile.

  “Okay, now. Let’s get a few of you seated,” Ms. Kroger said and directed him over to one of the big brown leather chairs near the glass walls. The camera clicked as she took more shots. “How about you stand behind the chair?”

  “Should I look serious?”

  “Sure.”

  So he gave her that. As she clicked, he placed his elbows on the top of the chair and rested his chin on his hands.

  After a few more shots, she said, “That should be enough.”

  Riley agreed. “Can’t wait to pick out the ones for the highway billboards.”

  She stared, looking confused.

  He smiled proudly in response and watched as she and the assistant repacked their gear.

  “I
should have some copies for you to look at in a day or two,” she told them.

  “Sooner the better,” Riley replied. “Mr. Brown and I need to get this campaign moving.”

  “I’ll do my best. Finals won’t be forwarded until I’m paid, of course.”

  “Mr. Brown handles things like that,” Riley said importantly. “Send your invoice to him. Right, Mr. Brown?”

  Brown studied him for a moment before saying, “We’ll discuss payment once I decide how many we need.”

  Riley stiffened. He hoped Brown wasn’t going to try and wiggle out of paying, or go with a lower number than Riley thought he needed. His supporters would want autographed glossies at all the rallies and coffee klatches he planned to have.

  Gear packed, Ms. Kroger said, “Mr. Brown, I’ll be in touch. Good luck with your campaign, Mr. Curry.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Let me walk you out,” Brown said to her.

  While he was gone, Riley debated whether to ask how many pictures Leo planned to order but decided not to. Brown hadn’t looked happy talking about the payment and Riley didn’t want his moneyman upset. Once the pictures were paid for and turned over, if there weren’t enough, he’d figure out how to handle it then.

  When Brown returned a few minutes later, Riley asked, “How do you think the photo shoot went?”

  “It went well.”

  “Did you like my poses? I practiced them in the mirror before coming over.”

  “Are you ready for the debates?”

  Miffed at not receiving the praise he’d sought, Riley replied, “I am. Been practicing that, too.” He went on to tell Leo about the campaign slogan he’d come up with. “What do you think? Is it strong enough?”

  “Sure. I want you to add something to your campaign promises for the farmers.”

  “Like what?”

  “Mega Seed has a new seed strain they want to give out after you get elected, but I think we might want to do it during the campaign so the farmers will offer you more support.”

  “What kind of seed?”

  “Corn and wheat. It’s experimental, but guaranteed to increase yields by 20 percent. The company wants to have testimonials when they do the formal release so potential buyers know that the seed does what the company claims.”