A Different Light (9 page)

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Authors: Mariah Stewart

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BOOK: A Different Light
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Tim had seemed so happy there when they visited over Christmas vacation that Quentin hadn’t hesitated to accept when his stepfather offered him their gatehouse as temporary living quarters. They returned to St. Louis only long enough for Quentin to list the house with a Realtor and pack their belongings. The Forbes guys were back in New Jersey by March, and neither of them had looked back. St. Louis held few good memories. Quentin had hoped that the change would be good for Tim, and in some ways it had been. The boy loved his grandmother and his new grandfather, both of whom doted on him. There were stables with horses to ride and meadows to ride through, streams to follow into the woods, and new challenges on the playing fields to be met.

But Quentin had noticed that Tim kept to himself much of the time and didn’t seem to have made any friends. At first he told himself that it was because they’d moved in the middle of the school year. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

“So what’s it going to be, sport?” Quentin came to a stop at a red light. “Burgers? Or no burgers?”

“I don’t care.”

“How about burgers on the way to the beach?”

Tim’s head spun halfway around to face his father.

“The beach is cool. I’d be up for that.”

“In that case, it’s back to the house to pick up our stuff.” Quentin turned left when the light turned green.

“It’s nice of Grandma to let us use her beach house.” Tim smiled for the first time since he got into the car. “It’s such a cool place. I love the ocean.”

“Me too.”

“If we’d stayed in St. Louis, I’d probably never get to see the ocean.”

“We’d have come for visits,” Quentin reminded him.

“It wouldn’t be the same as being able to go any time we want.”

“No, it wouldn’t be.”

Ten minutes later, they were driving through the gates of Quentin’s mother’s home.

“Dad, it’s okay if Callie Moran doesn’t like me,” Tim told him before he got out of the car. “You can still like her mom even if Callie doesn’t like me.”

“What makes you think I like her mom?”

“’Cause you dug up all that stuff for her and carried it down to her car.” Timmy grinned, his parting shot before jumping out of the car. “Besides, her mom’s hot.”

Out of the mouths of babes,
Quentin thought as he followed his son into the house. Callie Moran’s mom was, indeed, hot.

 6 

It was an obviously depressed Dan Rossi who stepped off the elevator on a sultry Monday morning in late August.

“Can I get something for you, Dan?” a concerned Athen asked. “Some coffee? Maybe something cold? Or some aspirin?”

“Aspirin and cold drinks won’t help, Athen, but thank you.”

“Is there anything I can do? Anything I can help you with?”

“I appreciate that. But this is something I have to deal with myself.” He made a gallant effort to smile.

She tiptoed out of the office, wondering at the cause of his troubles. She all but knocked over Edie, who’d obviously been lurking outside the door.

“Find out what’s ailing him?” Edie nodded in the direction of the door.

Athen shook her head.

“If you ask me, it’s that damned city charter,” Edie volunteered.

Athen sat down at her desk and looked for a copy of the email she’d typed yesterday, the one Rossi had her send to Wolmar right at the close of the day. Maybe there was a clue in it. He’d seemed agitated at the time he’d dictated it to her.

“Yup, that’d be my guess. It’s that damned charter, all right,” Edie repeated.

Athen did her best to ignore her. Maybe Edie the chatterbox would see she was busy and go away.

Maybe little people from Mars would land on the
roof and turn them all into marshmallows.

“You know that part that says you can only serve four consecutive terms?” Edie droned on. “A mistake, if you ask me, putting something like that in there. Now poor Dan has to give up the office.” She tsk-tsked. “A finer man never sat in that chair, and that’s the God’s honest truth.” She lowered her voice and added, “Everyone’s waiting for Dan to name his successor, and it’s going to have to be soon, too. The Labor Day rally is next week already.”

“So?”

“So that’s when he has to announce who gets the nod to run. Not that an election means anything in this city. Don’t get me wrong,” Edie hastened to add, “I’m a faithful member of the party. Always have been, always will be. And I’m loyal to Dan. God knows I’ll be just as loyal to whoever it is that Dan picks. It just seems to me to be a waste of money, though, going to the expense of a campaign when everyone knows who’s going to win.” She paused, then added, “Once we know who’s running, of course. That’s the beauty of having a one-party town.”

“I thought there was more than one political party in Woodside Heights.” Athen frowned.

“Well, technically, there is, but only one party has won an election in this city for over a hundred years.” Edie smiled. “It takes the drama out of the election when you know who’s going to win, but that’s okay with me. Who needs the agita?”

The elevator doors slid open noiselessly.

“Oh my, would you look at Himself,” Edie whispered as Jim Wolmar strode toward them, a jovial smile plastered on his face.

“Good morning, ladies.” He nodded cheerfully,
smoothing his tie and shooting the cuffs of the pale ivory shirt under the handsome gray Italian silk suit jacket. “Dan’s expecting me, Athen. Don’t get up. I can show myself in.”

Something about Wolmar had bothered Athen since day one. It could have been the fact that he always wore the same self-satisfied expression. Maybe it was the overly solicitous manner in which he always agreed with Dan, always nodding vigorously, proclaiming, “Absolutely, Dan. Without question,” as if Dan’s words had been Jim’s very thoughts. It could be the way he looked. Tall and trim with a full head of perfectly groomed silver hair, Wolmar might be handsome if he lost that lifeless plastic gaze. He always reminded Athen of an older version of Barbie’s friend, Ken.

It was generally believed that Wolmar was Rossi’s protégé, that Dan had been priming him to take over the office someday. Apparently, Jim believed that day was now near. Contrasting Dan’s mood to Jim’s lively steps, it seemed only one of them was happy about it.

Jim was still wearing that same sappy smile when he emerged from Dan’s office ten minutes later. The smile seemed to slide to one side of his face somewhat when he approached the opening door of the elevator as Harlan Justis was stepping out. The two men greeted each other warily, like opponents who were sizing each other up for the first time. Athen caught Wolmar trying to steal a peek through the closing elevator doors as Justis entered the confines of Rossi’s office.

Harlan Justis looked exactly the way a solicitor of a small city should look. He was well-spoken, well dressed, and well manicured. He was also apparently certain that when the dust settled, he, not Wolmar, would be Rossi’s
choice to succeed him.

Justis, too, stayed behind closed doors for about ten minutes before emerging with a hopeful look about him. Until Jack Sheldon, the front-runner from the third ward, stepped out of the elevator, smiled, and walked confidently into the mayor’s office.

And so it went till noon, resuming again at two. Prospective candidates in, prospective candidates out.

The usual Council meeting was subdued, lasting less than an hour before Dan stood to indicate the session had concluded. As an apparent afterthought, he added that he’d come to no final decision on “that other matter.” Wolmar and Justis both seemed inclined to linger for as long as possible, as if waiting to see if Rossi had words of encouragement for either of them. Both were disappointed when it became clear there’d be no further discussion that day.

Athen was in the process of gathering up the used coffee cups when Dan closed the office door.

“Can you sit and talk with me for a few, Athen?” He slumped into his chair.

“Of course.”

He motioned to a chair close to him, and she sat.

“I have a terrible dilemma, Athen, a terrible decision to make.” He shook his head as if the weight of the world rested upon it.

“The election?” she ventured quietly.

“Yes, of course, the election. How insightful of you to pick right up on that. I have to choose the right candidate, and my heart’s burning over it. There is no clear choice here, you see. Jim is a good man, but he’s never developed a true feel for the people. Harlan’s years away from being the man he needs to be to lead this city. Ah,
and the worst of it, Athen, is that in my heart I know I haven’t finished the job. There’s so much more I’d wanted to do for all those good people out there.” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the windows that fronted on the town square.

He turned his head from her, as if to shield her from his display of emotion.

“And the saddest part is that I know all the good things I’d planned will go undone.”

“Well, surely your successor . . . Jim, Harlan, whoever . . . will follow your agenda.”

“Ah, Athen, you’re so naïve.” He smiled kindly, as a father might at his child. “Everyone has their own priorities. No, I’m afraid that Dan Rossi’s plans for a better Woodside Heights will leave this office with him.”

“But, Dan,” she reminded him, “you’ll still be head of the party, you’ll still be able to influence how things are done.”

He shrugged, cavalierly waving his right hand. “There will be other appointees to Council, Athen. Whoever is elected will force a retirement here, challenge a position there, until he has his own people in place. It breaks my heart to say it aloud, but there’s not a man among them who won’t use this office for his own gain. Not one person who won’t put his own interests ahead of the city’s.”

“Maybe you should look around a little more, Dan, maybe there’s someone else you hadn’t considered.”

“Ah, now there’s an idea.” He smiled quickly, almost, she thought, as if the idea had been his own and perhaps not a new one. “Perhaps someone who’s outside the realm of the obvious. Yes, you may have hit upon something, Athen. You’ve given me something to think about.”

“There are a lot of bright people in Woodside
Heights. I’m sure you’ll find the right one.” She glanced at her watch and stood, preparing to leave. There would be open house at Callie’s school tonight, and she didn’t want to be late. “There’s Ted Raspanti in the finance office. Julian Taylor in the solicitor’s office. Jeff Keegan, Harold Greenly …”

“Yes, yes.” He nodded. “But who knows where their loyalties …? Ah, well, I’ve kept you too long. I’ll see you in the morning. And thank you for listening to an old man whose days in public office are running out.”

Poor Dan,
she thought as she drove home through the late rush hour traffic.
He’s so dedicated to this city.
She didn’t often agree with Edie, but it did seem a shame that he’d be forced out of office because of some clause in the charter.

She had just enough time to throw together a quick supper, though not enough time to change her clothes, before dragging Callie off to the open house that preceded the first week of school at Woods Academy.

“I haven’t had dessert,” Callie protested.

“They always have a dessert reception after the welcome speeches and you know it,” Athen reminded her. “Now smile and act like you’re glad to be here.”

“I’m not glad to be here.” Callie dragged behind her mother as they entered the large gray stone administration building of the private school Callie had attended for the past three years. Her tuition had been paid in part by John’s overtime, the balance in gifts from John’s family, particularly his sister, Meg, who believed that nothing was too good for her only niece.

“The only good thing about this place is the athletic program,” Callie continued to whine.

“Soccer tryouts are next week,” Athen reminded her
as she directed Callie into vacant seat toward the back of the auditorium.

“Yeah, but the public school kids get an extra week of summer vacation,” Callie whispered none too discreetly. The boy seated in front of her turned, and, recognizing her, smiled shyly.

“Oh, brother.” Callie rolled her eyes and slumped into her seat.

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