Tax Cut (14 page)

That was the last straw.
I pulled up my pants, slammed open the stall door and marched out of the bathroom, grabbing Nero by the ear and pulling him straight out of the building. I was fuming mad. The man was psycho. I couldn’t even pee in peace with him around. It was my breaking point, and I had had enough.

“Nero, I’m warning you, I am going to slap you with a restraining order, then I’m going to go to all the newspapers and tell them that you are a stalker.
I imagine that won’t be too good for business.”

“Did you wash your hands in there?
I didn’t hear the water running.”

“Nero!
Concentrate! I…want…you…to…leave…me…alone!”

“Please,” Nero pleaded.
“I have something important I wanted to tell you.”

“Save it for someone who cares, Nero.
I don’t want to hear any more!” I yelled.

“But wait!
Please! I can help you.”

“What on Earth do you think you can possibly help me with?”

“I’ve been watching you.”

“No crap, really?
I hadn’t noticed. Get out of here, Nero. What don’t you understand about me not wanting to have anything to do with you?”

“Seriously, please, let me finish.
I’ve seen the way Marc yells at you. What if I told you that I could dig up some dirt about him? Enough dirt so that he would have to resign?”

I scrunched down my eyebrows in a confused expression. After a long pause, I said, “I’m listening.”

“I have ways of finding things about people. I mean, I’m no private investigator, and some of my ways might border on the illegal, so it probably wouldn’t be anything where I could send him to jail or anything, but…”

“Get to the point, Nero.”

“But, what if I could dig up something that was embarrassing? Something that got out to the public. Something that would make him want to leave public office?”

Nero had my curiosity.
I wondered what he knew or what he thought he knew about Marc. I didn’t take Nero for someone to be involved in politics, so I didn’t know how he’d be able to find any dirt on anyone. I doubted Nero had many friends, with the way he acted and all.

“Exactly what do you know about
Marc?” I asked.

“I don’t know anything…yet.”

“What do you mean? What are you going to do?”

“I’d rather not involve you in the details of it.
I wouldn’t want you to be an accomplice or anything…in case.”

“Nero, you are freaking me out.”

“Have one cup of coffee with me, just one.”

“No,” I said sternly.

“No? But what if I could get Marc to quit?”

“If you are actually able find something out
about Marc that makes him quit,
and
if you also add Winifred into the equation, then I’ll have coffee with you.”

“Deal!” Nero said, excited like a little kid
, almost jumping up and down. His eyes lit up, his smile engulfed his face, and he bounced off to his car without saying another word. I went back into the building. I saw Bonnie was watching us.

“What did he say?” she asked.

“I’ll tell you all about it later,” I told her.

I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of Nero doing anything for me—especially something illegal.
Especially something that might make me owe him. I didn’t want to encourage him. But at the same time, I didn’t know what Bonnie’s uncle was doing with those pictures, if anything. I thought if Nero could drum up some more information, perhaps I could send that to Bonnie’s uncle as well. It was a long shot, but I took the gamble.

* * *

I went back to my desk and realized I hadn’t heard from Babs in a while.
Perhaps I should check on her, given the fact that she wasn’t as off her rocker as I had once thought and also because she was scared the last time I talked to her.
I found her number in my old-fashioned Rolodex, picked up the receiver on the phone, then dialed. The number was disconnected. I immediately started worrying. I wasn’t really friendly enough with any of the police officers or even the police chief where I felt comfortable calling and asking what happened when I reported that she thought the Iceman was going to kill her. And now that I knew the Iceman was a real person—Cal Zamboni, Gino Righetti’s shadow—I was even more concerned for Babs.

I headed out for lunch and drove right to Babs’ house.
I knocked loudly on her front door. No answer. I knocked again. Still no answer. I knocked a third time. Nothing. I went to the next door over. Maybe someone knew something.

“Hi.
I’m so sorry to bother you. I was looking for Babs Todaro; she lives next door to you. I had an appointment with her, but she doesn’t seem to be answering,” I said to the young woman with dark hair who answered the door. I heard her baby screaming in the background.

“Um, I don’t know. I have my hands full here.
I didn’t have time to pay much mind to neighbors today. Maybe check two townhouses down. Mr. Banks lives there. I think he might know. They are friendly.”

I thanked her, then walked down to see Mr. Banks.
Mr. Banks was a little old man, appearing to be in his eighties. He stood around five feet, three inches tall, mostly bald with a few white hairs left and he wore reading glasses. He told me that Babs had been moved to a nursing facility. He said her daughter didn’t feel like Babs could take care of herself any longer and they would be putting Babs’ townhouse up for sale. Mr. Banks didn’t seem to know which facility Babs was taken to. I was immediately sorry I hadn’t knocked on Babs’ door the night I had my nails done. At least I could have checked to make sure if she was okay that night. I felt bad and I continued to be worried. I left, wondering if she was really okay.

I returned to work after my lunch break and started making all the arrangements for the special board meeting for tomorrow night. I emailed the board members and asked them if they would like the meeting moved to the theatre, where there would be more room.

Marc replied with a “no.” Nothing more, nothing less. Just no. I decided that short and sweet was a good thing.

Winifred
replied with, “These things aren’t your decision to make. Try not thinking so much.” I decided she was a little twit. She clearly hadn’t read my email asking them what they wanted. I hadn’t made a decision about anything. I was really beginning to hate that old bag. Well, not exactly beginning to…already did was more like it!

Aspen and Jamie said they didn’t have a preference and John never responded. I sent another email out to Aspen, Jamie
, and John stating that Marc had made the decision to leave the meeting location the same as usual—in the boardroom. I neglected to add my opinion into the email by omitting the word “poor” before the word “decision.”

I left a detailed message for the police chief, asking that extra police offers be placed on duty at the board meeting due to the unusually hefty number of residents I expected to attend. Then I made extra copies of the agenda. I hoped one hundred copies would be plenty. I thought the official room capacity was somewhere around fifty to seventy-five people. More than that amount would be surpassing the fire code limits and the police would likely make the extras, if there were any, wait outside.

Toward the end of the day, my cell phone rang. Butterflies swarmed in my belly as I saw the name Kristof Beck scroll across the screen.

“Hey!” I answered the phone.

“Hey yourself,” the sexy Kris said over the phone. “I was wondering if you were free this weekend?”

“Sure,” I said, perhaps a little too anxiously.

“How about a movie on Friday night?”

I graciously agreed. Kris said he’d pick me up at eight on Friday. I think what I liked the most about Kris was that he was able to put a smile on my face, no matter how stressed I was, and no matter how crazy of a day I was having at work. My stress faded into the background when I heard his dreamy voice. I thought about his gorgeous eyes and his boyish smile and I grinned. I couldn’t wait to see him on Friday.

Chapter 14

“What did you find?” Gino
asked.

“I looked everywhere. I completely tore apart the office
, looking for some law, some loophole where we can condemn those properties quicker. I couldn’t find anything,” Marc said as he hung his head low.

“That’s not what I wanted to hear.”

“I know, I know. I tried, I really did. If you want me to check with the village attorneys…”

“I don’t think I want the attorneys involved right now
,” Gino said.

“Please tell me what else I can do. I don’t want any trouble,” Marc said with a spec
k of worry in his voice.

“
You just sit tight, Marc. There are people in high places that aren’t going to be happy with this, so it’s on to Plan B.”

“What is
Plan B?”

“You just let the big boys worry about
Plan B, Marc, and I don’t think I need to remind you to keep your trap shut.”

Gino abruptly left the room
. Marc collapsed in his seat, shaking his head. He feared the worst was yet to come.

* * *

I arrived at work at the same time as Bonnie the next morning. We walked in the office together, making small talk. I quickly told her I had another date lined up with Kris. She so eloquently reminded me that I needed to be a kitten, in a way only Bonnie could. I rolled my eyes.

“Well, my uncle called,” Bonnie said
.

“He did?
What did he say?” I said with anticipation.

“He said we have a
couple of pictures of a guy cashing in his lottery chips.”

“No?
Really?” I said sarcastically.

“I told him the same thing, except my words were more
‘flowery,’ so to speak.”

“I imagine they were.”

“I guess you were right; we really needed a photo of Gino handing Marc the envelope full of cash. And without our testimony…”

“Yeah, we do
not
want to testify. And even if we did, it would be our word against his. No proof,” I said with a frown.

“Yeah.
We need proof. But how do we get it?”

“Nero.”

“Nero? That little turd? What are you talking about?”

“I kind of have him working for me.”

“Working for you? What? Doing what? Are you paying him?”

“No, but I guess I’m going to owe him.”

“Owe him what? Or shouldn’t I ask.”

“Coffee or something. I think.”

“Oh my. I don’t think I even want to know what you are up to. You are never going to be able to get rid of him now.”

We parted ways at the entrance to our offices, and I headed toward my desk.
“Good morning, Bryce,” I said.

“Good morning, Chelsey,” he replied.

I sat down and booted up my computer. I took a sip of my coffee and suddenly heard laughing. “Who’s laughing?” I asked Bryce.

“I don’t know, sounds like a party in the next office.”

“I guess we weren’t invited!”

I heard some hooting and hollering.

“Geez,” Bryce said. “Sounds like a bunch of animals.”

I tried to ignore the noise, and I turned my attention to my computer,
which finally seemed to come alive. I went to click on the mail icon, when suddenly, a box opened up. Much to my shock, it was a video of Winifred, in all her wrinkled glory, doing some weird shimmy, sans clothing. I heard Bonnie screaming from the next office over. “Ah! My eyes! My eyes! I can’t watch this!”

It was like watching a train wreck. I couldn’t take my eyes off the computer
, watching the horrific scene unfolding before my eyes. Winifred grabbed a scarf and ran it back and forth between her legs. I made a face and said, “
Eww
!” I heard Bryce say, “What the heck?” Then I heard him laughing hysterically.

Bonnie came busting into my office
. “I’m scarred for life!” she exclaimed. “How the heck did that video get in here?”

I turned my head slowly to look at Bonnie.

“Nero,” we both said at the same time.

“Do you really think he did this?” Bonnie asked.

“I know he did,” I said.

“There’s got to be something illegal about this. Are you going to tell on him?”

“No.”

“Why the heck not?
This is your chance to get rid of him for a while. All he does is harass you.”

“I think I’d like to keep Nero around for a little while longer.”

“Seriously?”

“I know,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “But what choice do I have?
He’s an expert with computers; you can see what he did with this video. I can only hope he can catch Marc doing something as well.”

“And if he does?
How is
that
going to hold up in court? I think videotaping someone without their knowledge is illegal or at least getting them on audio without their knowledge is. I’m not sure.”

“I haven’t exactly figured all of that out yet.”

Bonnie gave me a look.

“Trust me,” I said to her.

“Ooookaaayyy,” she said with a raised eyebrow.

We both glanced back at my computer.
Someone else was entering the picture…a man…shaking his manhood like he had someone to impress.

“Ugh! That’s freaking gross…that’s John Paparazzo!”
Bonnie declared. “Ah! This is a scarier rendition of
Sigmund and the Sea Monster
!” she continued. “She is such a sea hag! And, I’ve never seen a smaller penis in my life! I think I’ll start calling him ‘Shorty’ from now on.
Shorty and the Sea Hag
.
The Sea Hag takes Shorty
. I’m scarred for life!”

In an effort to get Bonnie off her rant, I said, “
I guess she’s cheating on her husband.”

“And I guess he’s che
ating on his wife! Yet another example of the stupidity brought on by dangling participles!”

“Is this a live video?”

“I don’t think so; there’s a window next to the bed…looks dark outside.”

“Holy moly!
Do you think they know about the video yet?”

“If they do, they got some huge explaining to do.”

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I couldn’t believe Nero knew how to get a video camera into someone’s bedroom and how he happened to stumble on this scandal.

“How do you suppose I get this video off my computer?”

“Don’t know, but it appears it’s going to be a while,” Bonnie said as she pointed toward the screen. Winifred and Pops were doing the deed in quite an animalistic way.

I searched for a “close” button to save myself from the post-traumatic stress syndrome that was sure to occur after witnessing such a heinous act.
It was like accidentally walking in on your parents doing it. I wasn’t against people doing their thing, but it was not something I wished to witness…ever! There was no close button. I frowned. I tried opening up a program. No luck, the box appeared in front of any window I tried to open, including the internet.

“Bryce, did you have any luck getting this off your screen?” I yelled into his office.
Seconds later, Bryce appeared in my doorway with a red face and tears in his eyes. He was having trouble breathing from all the laughing. He was wiping his eyes as he continued to giggle. He shook his head and kept laughing.

“My (laugh)…stomach (laugh)…hurts (laugh)…from (laugh)…laughing so hard,” he said. Now it was my turn to shake my head.
How embarrassing for John and Winifred.
I kind of felt bad for John, but not so much for Winifred. Bryce walked away, wiping tears from his eyes and laughing. I turned off my computer. I didn’t want to see any more. I thought about calling Nero to congratulate him on his handiwork, but I didn’t feel like dealing with him. I buried myself with paperwork until it was time for me to deal with tonight’s board meeting.

* * *

I pulled my car into the parking lot at six thirty. I arrived a little earlier than usual so that I could set up, knowing I’d probably have a large crowd at the meeting, compliments of the zoning ordinance hearing. I noticed immediately that I wasn’t the only one in the parking lot, like I typically was. I was greeted by twenty rowdy, sign-holding hecklers. They were none too happy to see me. In their minds, I was part of their problem, simply because my employers wanted to take their homes away. I couldn’t blame them for being angry, but their anger was displaced.

My
uneasiness grew as I stepped out of the car. I grabbed my papers for the meeting from the back seat and pulled out my key to the building. I felt like I was about to commit a mortal sin by crossing the picket line.

“Stop the insanity,” someone shouted in my ear.

“Don’t take our homes, leave us alone,” others chanted.

“Vote no for eminent d
omain; you’re all insane,” I heard another voice yell, and saw that their signs matched their shout outs.

As I attempted to put my key in the door, I was stopped by a chubby woman in her
fifties. “You’re ruining our lives,” she shouted in my face.

A very tall and intimidating man walked over and stood between me and the door. My hands started trembling.

“Does it make you happy to make someone homeless?” he asked.

“I’m not on the b
oard; I’m only here to open the building and take notes,” I explained.

He stepped out of my way and let me open the door.

I turned on the lights. A handful of people followed me into the boardroom, but the others stayed outside with their signs, repeating their axioms.
They are going to make it clear that they aren’t going to give up their homes without a fight,
I thought.

I placed out the agendas I had with me, but realized I might need more, so I headed into my office to make some
copies. When the copier stopped running, I heard voices. I listened carefully and overheard Dingo talking to someone. I was surprised that he was still at work. He normally left by four thirty daily. I left my office and practically bumped into Gino Righetti leaving the tax office. I had thought it was strange that Gino was there at that time of night and not during normal business hours.

I headed back to the
boardroom to find more seats filled in the audience. I set out the nameplates, passed out the board members’ mail, then took my place on the dais. I started up the recorder and computer, then sat patiently waiting for the meeting to start. As I waited, I saw several police officers standing around the back of the room. Crowd control had arrived. This made me feel relieved; at least there were officers around should anyone get out of hand.

Each of the b
oard members arrived with a police escort by their side. Winifred arrived wearing a skirt shorter than one I would put on my two-year-old. It was beyond unprofessional and it certainly didn’t rise to the level of being age appropriate…yet again. I would have thought that after that video, she would be afraid to show her face. Or at least afraid to show up in an outfit like that. Maybe she didn’t know about the video yet. Luckily, she couldn’t read my mind to see my newly found disgust of her.

I
forgot about Winifred’s skimpy wardrobe and started to wonder if the picketers were out of control or multiplying, but I knew better than to go out and look. When the meeting finally started, it was standing room only. The police wouldn’t allow everyone in the room because the masses would violate the fire code.

After
Marc called the meeting to order, he announced that there would be a two-minute time limit for each speaker and that speakers would only get one opportunity at the microphone, in an effort to allow many people as possible to speak. I was thrilled when I heard the last of his announcements, that there would also be a one-hour time limit on the comments for this public hearing. I had thought for sure that this meeting would have lasted all night, and now it gave me hope that I would be done with the meeting at a reasonable hour.

For the next sixty minutes, almost
thirty residents arrived at the microphone, pleading for the board not to take their residences and businesses. The beach club owners were among them. Most people expressed their dismay about changing the zoning from mainly residential to include zoning uses such as a casino and a hotel. They expressed extreme displeasure over the amount of traffic there would be in their neighborhoods. There were concerns about noise, lighting, the effect the Village Pier would have on their homes’ values. Some complained that their taxes would be going up due to the astronomical costs involved in purchasing the beach club. The beach club owners complained that this was their livelihood, that they worked hard to build the business, and they begged for the village to build their project around them. This, I comprehended. What I didn’t get were all the other people asking that their homes not be taken away from them. I wasn’t sure if their words were figurative or literal. Were they afraid of the fact that they lived in a quiet neighborhood now, which could become a bustle of activity, or did they fear their properties would actually be taken away? The zoning ordinance certainly didn’t take anyone’s home away from them. The condemnation ordinance was only to purchase the beach club, not for other properties.