A Different Light (47 page)

“Because the Greenwich deal came through faster than Schraeder had anticipated. I suspect he paid Dan a little bonus to sit on the Fourth Street site until the company had the cash flow to proceed in Woodside Heights.”

“I’m not sure I understand how Dan could have had the city take title to the houses.”

“Think for a minute. If the owners never received the tax bills—maybe the bills weren’t even sent—the taxes weren’t paid, and the city swooped in to take them over.”

“Wouldn’t the city have to post a notice? Like when a property goes to sheriff’s sale?”

“With the owners out of state, they wouldn’t have seen any notice that the city posted.”

“Bastard.” Athen growled. “I wish I could nail Dan for taking that money. And if that’s how the city obtained those properties, I want to get him for that, too.”

“Well, short of a signed confession, there’s no way to prove any of this. Schraeder’s not likely to admit that he’s paid local authorities in exchange for their cooperation any more than Dan’s going to admit he accepted the bribe or that he cheated the owners out of those houses,” Quentin reminded her. “But there’s no doubt in my mind that Schraeder promised Dan a bundle to sit on those lots for him. There’s no other explanation for Dan’s resolve to keep control of them.”

“I wonder if my father knew,” she murmured. “I wonder if that’s why he hit the ceiling when he saw the picture in the paper.”

“Athen, what if maybe Schraeder approached Ari first?”

“You mean, he offered my father a bribe …?”

“It’s very possible,” he continued. “Look, from what I’ve heard, before he had his stroke, your father was a very influential man. Some would say more influential than Rossi, back then. Schraeder might have made a mistake in judgment, offered to make a deal with your dad, then, when he was slapped down, went to Rossi.”

“That would certainly explain Dan’s actions after my father had his stroke, and it explains why it was so important that Dan be able to run again. If he was no longer mayor, he’d be of no use to Schraeder.” Athen nodded thoughtfully. “But how much of this matters if we can’t prove it? Dan will run again and he’ll be elected. He’ll get those leases back from the UCC—after all, how useful are
those vacant lots to them?”

“Maybe they’ll plan to build something there,” Quentin suggested.

Athen shook her head. “They’ll never get the building permits. Dan will be able to block those. No, he’ll offer to buy them back, and the city will sell the property to Clover Inns. Dan will make a tidy sum on the deal, and no one will be the wiser. But, as you said, this is all conjecture. Without any proof, he’s going to get away with it.”

Athen got up and began to pace, her arms folded over her chest.

“God, the whole thing makes me so damned mad.” Her anger continued to rise. “What I wouldn’t do to trip him up now.”

“How far would you go?” Quentin asked quietly.

“As far as I had to.” She leaned over the back of the sofa behind him and draped her arms around his neck and rested her chin on top of his head. “Unfortunately, without Schraeder admitting that he offered the bribe …”

“… which will never happen,” he interjected.

“There doesn’t seem to be any way to beat him. Dan’s sure to win.”

“Well, as long as he runs unopposed, he’s a sure thing.” Quentin reached up to stroke her arm.

“I can’t think of anyone who could defeat him,” she murmured. “Except maybe Ms. Evelyn, and she’s mentioned several times she has no interest in ever running for office. She likes to stay behind the scenes and do her own thing. And so far, she’s been pretty damned effective in getting things done. Maybe she’d change her mind if she knew about Schraeder. Diana might have some ideas, though. I’ll run it all past her.”

“Have you thought about taking him on yourself?”

“Are you nuts?” She laughed out loud. “Me, go head to head with him and his machine?” She shook her head. “I can’t beat him.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“I am.” She shook her head. “I have no interest in putting myself or my daughter through that.”

“So you’ll just concede defeat and let him continue to rape and pillage the city?”

“I can’t stop him, Quentin. Maybe someone else can, but it isn’t going to be me.”

“There is no one else who …”

“Can we change the subject, please? I don’t want to run against him. He’ll cut me to shreds. I’ve had enough. As far as I’m concerned, the matter is closed.”

He sighed with apparent defeat. “All right, then. How about we talk about our New Year’s Eve plans?”

“Do we have plans for New Year’s Eve?”

“Yes, we do,” he told her.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s going to be a surprise.”

“What are we going to do when we get there?”

“That’s a surprise, too.”

“Really? Will I like it?”

“You’ll love it.”

“How will I know what to wear, if I don’t know where we’re going or what we’re going to do?” Athen frowned. “How will I know what to take?”

“Pack warm clothes, enough for two days.” He reached around and pulled her over the back of the sofa and onto his lap. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon around four.”

“Whoa, wait a minute. Two days? Are you forgetting
about Callie?”

“Callie has plans of her own.”

“Oh, really? And what might they be?”

“While we are … at the place where we’re going and doing what we’re doing, Callie and Tim will be with my mother and Hughes in New York City, where they will see shows and take in the sights and have a wonderful time before they have to go back to school at the end of their holiday break. While they’re there, they’ll hook up with my sister, Caitlin, and have a ball. Cait is a barrel of fun, when she’s not working, which she all too often is. I know I should have asked you first, before I allowed Mom to make her plans, but I really wanted to surprise you with a little vacation. And Meg thought it would be all right. If you don’t want her to go, though …”

“What, and incur Callie’s wrath for making her miss what is sure to be a grand time? It’s very nice of your mother to include Callie in the plans.” She paused. “Was this your idea or your mother’s?”

“A little of both,” he admitted. “Mom mentioned she was going to meet up with Cait in the city and asked if she could take Timmy. When I told her what I was planning, we both agreed that Callie might be a fifth wheel if she came along with us. Besides, she’ll have more fun with Tim and my mom and Caitlin than she would with us.”

“All right. Callie can go with your mother and Tim, and I’ll go with you on the condition that there is no more talk of elections or Dan Rossi or me running for anything until we get back from … wherever it is that we’re going.”

“Agreed.”

“Great.” She grinned. “When do we leave?”

“SO WHEN DO I FIND
out where we’re going?” Athen snapped on her seat belt.

“When we get there.” He grinned and started the engine.

“When will we get there?”

He turned on the radio and searched for a contemporary station. “In about an hour, hour and a half. Just sit back, relax, listen to the music.” He backed out of her driveway and, two blocks down, followed the signs for the Garden State Parkway.

“We’ve got two days to ourselves and a couple of bottles of champagne. The kids are being taken care of, so what’s not to love?” He reached over and took one of her hands.

“It sounds very romantic.”

“It will be, I promise.”

“You told me to pack all warm clothes.” She thought of her suitcase packed with heavy woolen sweaters, socks, and a pair of long underwear.

“You’re going to need them.” He nodded.

“So what’s your definition of romantic?”

He pondered the question for a moment. “Having a sense of the moment.”

She sat back and thought about that. “Carpe diem, eh?”

Quentin laughed. “More or less.”

The conversation was light for the first forty minutes, until Athen announced, “I swore I wasn’t going to do this until we were on our way home, but I had a long talk with Diana last night. I told her everything about Paul Schraeder. She said she was going to talk to my dad about it first thing this morning.”

“And …?”

“And she called right before you came to pick me up. She said we were right about Schraeder offering my dad a bribe.”

“How does she communicate with him if he doesn’t speak?”

“She asks him questions and he responds by blinking. You know, one blink for yes, two for no. Once she knew about Schraeder, she knew what to ask. He confirmed that Schraeder approached him and offered him a very large amount of money to help him get his hands on the entire block of Fourth Street. Of course, my dad turned him down. When Dad saw the picture of Schraeder and Rossi in the paper, he figured out what had happened. He went to Dan’s office and told Rossi that he was blowing the whistle on him.”

“And then your father had the stroke that silenced him.”

“I’ll bet Dan couldn’t believe his luck when he heard that Dad was taken to the hospital.” She crossed her arms and stared out the window at the passing scenery without really seeing it. “I can’t believe how I let him play me. I really did believe that he and my dad had been close friends. When Dad was in the hospital, Dan came to the house several times, and he was so kind to me and to Callie. Then when John died, he made such a big deal out of John being this big hero …”

“John was a hero, Athen,” Quentin reminded her. “Dan didn’t make that up.”

“I know that. But looking back, I can see how Dan used John’s death to keep himself in the press, to appear to be the kindly uncle. Just as he used my father’s stroke to win votes from my dad’s district.” She shivered. “It makes me sick to my stomach to know that I fell for it.
That I let him use first my father, then John, and later me, all for his own politic ends.”

“I thought we weren’t going to use the
p
word.”

“I know, I know.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “I’m feeling guilty because now that I know what a crook Rossi is, I’m pissed at myself for letting him use me to make it possible for him to run again.”

“Did you ever figure out why he didn’t ask Wolmar or Justis to run instead of you?”

“Sure. He knew that if either of them got into office, they wouldn’t be so quick to leave. He knew he could manipulate me in ways he could never manipulate them.” She looked across the console. “They know him for the weaselly little rat that he is. I can’t believe how naïve I was.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. At least not until after the New Year.”

At some point he’d gotten off the parkway, and they were headed south on Route 9.

“We’re going to the beach?” She raised her eyebrows.

“To a private little place overlooking the ocean.”

“I love the beach!” she exclaimed. Dark thoughts of Dan Rossi and her feelings of guilt at having let him use her faded away when she rolled down the window and breathed in the salt air. “I can smell the ocean.”

“That would be the marsh there on your right,” he teased.

“How close are we?”

“A few more blocks.”

“Did you rent a cottage or something?” she asked.

“Or something.” Quentin smiled.

The “or something” was a large, rambling weathered house that overlooked the Atlantic. A stream of smoke drifted from the chimney, and lights burned invitingly inside.

“Quentin, it’s breathtaking,” she exclaimed as they climbed the steps to the deck overlooking the sea.

“I knew you’d love it.” He dropped the overnight bags he’d carried from the car and draped an arm over her shoulder to share the view with her.

The beach was deserted save for a foraging gull whose call was all but lost in the sound of the pounding surf. The air was crisp and cold and smelled of salt and the dunes below the deck.

“It’s wonderful. Perfect,” she told him. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s been forever since I’ve been to the beach. I can’t think of a better place to ring in the New Year.”

“Let’s go inside and see what Mrs. Emmons has cooked up for us.”

“Mrs. Emmons?” Athen ducked inside the door he held open for her.

“She’s the housekeeper,” Quentin explained. “I called her from St. Louis and asked her to freshen things up and prepare one of her wonderful dinners for us.”

“Wait a minute. Whose place is this?”

“My mom’s. Well, hers and Hughes’s.”

“They have a housekeeper who lives here all year round?” Athen inquired. “By herself?”

“She and her husband live a few blocks inland. She takes care of the house, and her husband takes care of the grounds and the boats, that sort of thing. Ah, there she is.” He smiled as a pudgy woman with salt-and-pepper hair and a pleasant round face toddled into the kitchen.

“Hello, Quentin,” she greeted him.

“This is my friend, Athena Moran.” He made the introduction. “She’ll be staying with us for a few days.”

“Nice to meet you,” the woman told Athen. “I hope you like seafood.”

“I do,” Athen assured her.

“Good. Dinner will be in about an hour or so. Now, Quentin, if you wouldn’t mind.” She smiled good-naturedly. “Out of my kitchen so I can work.”

“I’ll give you the downstairs tour.” He took Athen by the hand and led her from the kitchen through a butler’s pantry and into a wide front hall.

“This is not exactly my idea of a cottage.” Athen looked up at the high ceiling.

“You were the one who used that term, not me. Come this way. There should be a fire and … ah, yes. There it is.”

The stone fireplace dominated the enormous living room that was comfortably furnished with deep-cushioned sofas and chairs. In one corner stood an evergreen. Several cardboard boxes were piled off to the side.

“So, what’s with the bare-naked tree?” she asked.

“It’s waiting for us.” He sat on the edge of a large hassock and patted the space next to him. “Sit down, and let’s see what we have here.”

He reached for one of the boxes and opened the lid as she sat. They both peered inside, and he smiled with genuine pleasure.

“These will be just fine. Perfect. What do you think?”

“They’re seashells,” she said, slightly puzzled.