by Rayna Morgan
“How you doing, Mr. Austin?” she asked. “Long time, no see.”
“Hey, Birdie. How’s your son doing at the University; has he graduated yet?”
“He sure did. Now he’s got the daunting task of finding employment, which can’t come too soon for me. What can I help you with?”
“Any chance of my bending the director’s ear for a moment?”
“He’s in his office, let me find out. May I tell him the nature of your business?”
Paul crossed his fingers behind his back and presented the story he had concocted.
“Give me a minute,” Birdie told him. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Paul took a seat. He had yet to meet the new Planning Director; helping Tom was giving him an excuse for an introduction.
Birdie returned a moment later. “He has time to see you. Go on back to his office.”
• • •
After congratulating the director on his new position and exchanging pleasantries, the two men got down to business.
“Birdie mentioned you’d like a read on how favorable the city might be toward a new project your client is considering.”
“That’s right. He’s asked me to evaluate a potential land purchase. I’m trying to save him the time and money of a feasibility study by determining whether a subdivision can be done, or at least done in a way which makes financial sense.”
The director nodded. “Always better to perform adequate due diligence before a substantial sum of money is invested. What’s the location and scope of the plans?”
Paul responded with a generic description. “One to two acres per lot, fifteen or twenty lots, on the east side of the river. Ideally, land which fronts on a public road.”
The director leaned forward over his desk. “As long as your client is amenable to bringing necessary infrastructure to the property, he should have no problem winning the Council’s approval. In a robust economy, he’d have more red tape to go through, but the Council is pro-growth right now due to loss of tax revenue.”
“Are you aware of any environmental concerns?”
“It depends on the location,” the director answered. “Of course, your client will need to have an Environmental Impact Report done when they get to that stage of the planning. Overall, the few issues we hear complaints about are water access due to the drought, Indian burial grounds, and endangered bird species. I’m sure you’ve had experience with all those issues.”
“More experience than I care to remember,” Paul said.
“Stop by Birdie’s desk on your way out to read the public reports on the land your client is considering. The Public Works Department will give you information on mineral and water rights. But short of talking about specific acreage, I can assure you the city will be proactive where new development is concerned.”
“That’s good to hear. Thank you for your time,” Paul said, standing to leave.
“Not at all,” the director said. “Those are the same answers I gave the fellow who was in my office last month asking the same questions.”
• • •
Paul stopped at the front desk as the director had advised. “Birdie, I’d like to check the zoning and parcel ownership of some land east of town.”
“Sure, Mr. Austin,” she said, placing an open book in front of him. “Write down the address or the parcel numbers you’re interested in, and sign the register. I’ll bring out the corresponding plat maps for you to examine.”
Paul didn’t hear her final comment. His attention was riveted to the signature of the last person to request information on the Benson, Hudson, and Miller parcels.
“Something wrong, Mr. Austin?” Birdie asked.
“I see my client’s associate has been here ahead of me. I won’t need those plat maps after all.”
As soon as Paul reached his car, he wasted no time calling Jim Mitchell’s office.
“Jim’s at the condominium site on Wheeler Road,” the receptionist told him. “You can find him there.”
“It’s on the way to my office,” Paul said. “I’ll drop by.”
• • •
As he got closer to his destination, his progress was impaired by large trailers hauling construction materials. Driving through the gates of a fenced property, Paul was struck by the sights and sounds of buildings being raised from the dirt, a beehive of activity that got Paul’s blood pulsing.
He parked in front of a large trailer at the entrance which displayed the name of the project and a sign with the wording ‘Opening Soon’. Stepping from his car, he was immersed in the noisy clamor of hammering and welding, the warning beeps of construction vehicles backing up, and laborers hollering to be heard. It was all music to his ears.
He walked through the door and waved to a tall man bending over a table which displayed a model of the project.
Jim Mitchell walked toward Paul, extending his hand. “Hey, Paul. Nice to see you. What are you doing out here in the trenches?”
“I was in the neighborhood,” Paul said. “You know I can never resist an opportunity to visit a construction site. This one’s moving right along.”
“Yeah, this is turning out to be a sweet project. Knock on wood, but so far we’re ahead of schedule and under budget. Grab a chair. We’ve got a pot of the usual construction-site sludge brewing around here somewhere.”
“No thanks; I’m good. Actually, I had you on the brain from my visit to City Hall this afternoon.”
“What made you think of me?” Jim asked.
“I was gathering information for another client and saw your associate’s name, Mike Young, on the register to review parcel data.”
The developer reflected a moment before responding. “I don’t recall sending Mike to City Hall for anything lately, but we’ve got several projects in the fire. He may have been checking on permits.”
“He was looking up information on property owners. Do you have any acquisitions in the pipeline?”
“Not really. A month or so ago, a corporate investor expressed interest in doing a residential project outside of town, but we ran into some early hurdles and their interest waned. It would have been a good-sized project. I was sorry we couldn’t proceed.”
“Where was the proposed location?”
“They were looking at five hundred acres east of town. The concept was to subdivide into two- or three-acre parcels and build ranch-style houses. Each parcel would be big enough for people to grow their own crops.”
“You mean a live-off-the-land concept?”
“More or less. The eco-friendly, living-green notion which is so popular.”
“What were the hurdles you mentioned?”
“We weren’t able to buy the amount of land needed. My associate made inquiries on three adjoining properties. One rancher was eager to sell. Apparently, he’s close to foreclosure. If he can’t sell, the bank will take his ranch. Unfortunately for him, the offer depended on all three properties being purchased.”
“The other two ranchers weren’t interested in selling?”
“No, my associate couldn’t come to terms with either of them. We tabled the project. I didn’t hear any more about it.” Jim’s eyes narrowed as he scanned Paul’s face. “What’s your interest?”
“No specific interest. I like to get a read from anyone who’s submitting building plans to the city. As you know, the City Council’s partiality changes from month-to-month. You never know when you’ll get a green light from them. I try to prevent wasting my clients’ time and money if I’m sure a project will never make it through preliminary plan approval.”
“That’s one of the reasons I hire you. You’re always as judicious with my money as I am. Sorry I can’t be more help, but feel free to talk to Mike if you like.”
“Thanks, Jim. No need for me to take up anyone else’s time,” Paul said, making his way to the door. “Good to see you. Call me when you have time for a game of racquetball. I’ve been practicing, I may be able to give you a run for
your money.”
“I doubt that,” Jim said, “but I’m up for the challenge. I’ll give you a buzz.”
Before returning to his office, Paul called to report his findings to Tom. “My visit to City Hall was unproductive. Someone had checked on the parcels out by the Benson farm, but when I ran down the lead, the developer informed me his client had dropped the project. They’re not pursuing an acquisition. Real estate as a motive appears to be a dead-end.”
“Au contraire,” Tom said, sounding smug. “After our lunch, I went to see Cliff Hudson. From what he told me, I’d say a land deal is still on the table as a motive. Someone may be lying to you, buddy. Come by my office. I’d like to hear more about your client.”
• • •
Lea was working on an employee handbook when she got an unexpected call. “Hey, babe, I thought you were in meetings this morning.”
“I am, or I was,” Paul sputtered. “I’m on my way to another appointment, but I need to see you. Can you meet me at Maria’s?”
“The donut shop in the middle of the week? You don’t usually indulge in pastries until Saturday morning. What’s the occasion? Are we celebrating or commiserating?”
“Something has come up. I don’t have time to come by the house, but I need your input.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Lea agreed, pleased to be consulted.
“Please don’t be late.” The phone went dead.
“Something’s wrong,” Lea told the dogs. “Paul knows how punctual I am; he never reminds me to be on time. Let’s go find out what’s got him upset.”
• • •
Lea inhaled the sickly sweet smell of globby dough being baked into jam-filled donuts.
“Hi, Maria,” she greeted the owner. “Where’s Paul? I saw his car in front.”
“He’s gone to the bank, he’ll be right back. How are you?” Maria asked, walking around the counter to hug Lea and lean over the eager canines.
“Yes, I have something for you,” she told them.
She reached into a canister labeled ‘For Dogs Only.' Gracie and Spirit waited, tails wagging. Maria threw the biscuits on the floor and watched the dogs gobble them up as Paul walked in.
“Two cups of espresso, Maria,” Paul said, “and a croissant for my wife.”
Lea raised her eyebrows as Maria turned to prepare the coffee. “That was abrupt. I don’t even get to look at the goodies?”
“I don’t have much time,” he said. He steered her to a table. “Besides, you always end up ordering the same thing.”
“What’s going on?”
“I have to go see Tom at police headquarters.” Paul explained the events which had transpired.
“Why does Tom want to see you?”
“When I told him that profit from a land deal couldn’t be a motive, he told me I was wrong.”
“What reason did he give?”
“He talked with Albert Benson’s neighbor, Cliff Hudson,” Paul said. “Apparently, Hudson was reluctant to disclose it at first, but he eventually told Tom there was an offer in the works.”
“I thought you said your client wasn’t interested in buying the property.”
“That’s what my client led me to believe. Now, I’m not so sure.”
“Jim Mitchell would never lie to you. There must be another explanation. The offer must be coming from some other developer.”
“That’s what I thought until I saw the name on the register at the Planning Department.”
“Not Jim Mitchell, I hope.”
“No, it wasn’t Jim.”
“Then why are you so worried?”
“It was Jim’s associate, Mike Young. It looks like Mike may have contacted all three property owners. Two of them turned him down, but strange things have been happening since.”
“Like what?”
“Like livestock and crops being poisoned.”
“How terrible.” Shock registered on Lea’s face.
“I know. This whole thing has taken an ominous turn.”
“But if Mike made offers to those ranchers,” Lea asked, “why did Jim tell you his client wasn’t pursuing an acquisition?”
“That’s what I need to find out,” Paul said. Lines burrowed across his forehead. “Once Tom finds out Jim had an investor lined up for a residential development which would net Jim a huge profit, he’s going to consider my client a suspect.”
“But you can tell Tom it was Mike Young who made the offer.”
“It doesn’t matter. Jim’s responsible for the actions of his employees. Tom’s never going to believe Mike wasn’t acting on Jim’s behalf.”
“What did Jim say when you told him you’d be talking to the police?”
“I haven’t told him yet,” Paul said. He avoided his wife’s stare by looking down at his coffee cup. “I have no doubt if I tell Jim about Tom’s suspicions, he’ll deny any knowledge.”
“And you think that’s the case?”
“Absolutely. I’d stake my reputation on the man’s honesty. If he says he has no knowledge of offers proffered for the purchase of land, I believe him. The question is whether proposals were presented without his knowledge and why. That’s what I came to talk to you about.”
“Me?” Lea’s eyes widened. “How am I involved in all this?”
“You know the last thing in the world I want to do is involve you in a murder investigation—”
“I know your feelings on the subject all too well,” Lea said, noting the pained expression on her husband’s face. “Considering how many times you’ve told Maddy and me to keep our noses out of anything remotely related to crime, I’m finding your request for help more than surprising.”
“It will only require a minimal level of involvement on your part, but your instincts about people are impeccable.”
“You and Tom usually ridicule my woman’s intuition, as you call it. Interesting,” Lea continued, “how that same instinct turns into a valuable asset when you need help.”
“Since Jim denies his company’s involvement,” Paul said, ignoring her rebuke, “I have no cause to approach Mike Young. I’m hoping you can initiate a conversation with Mike to determine if he’s done something behind Jim’s back.”
Lea scrunched her shoulders. “What excuse would I have for talking with Mike? I’ve seen him at Jim’s ground-breaking ceremonies, but I have no reason to request a meeting.”
“Don’t worry; I’ve worked it all out. I asked Jim if he would be open to your submitting a proposal for a grand-opening event and marketing materials for his condominium project. He was more than receptive to the idea. I suggested he make his associate available to provide the information you need. Mike Young is expecting your call to set up a meeting.”
“You did all that without talking to me?” Lea said, dismayed.
Paul smiled seductively and grasped her hand. “Are you telling me you’re going to turn down the chance to get involved in a mystery?”
“No way,” Lea beamed. “Especially not when I have your blessing.”
• • •
Lea called Maddy at the furniture store. “Can you take a break? I need to talk to you about the Benson murder.”
“Give me fifteen minutes, and meet me at the Starbucks down the street.”
“I’ll be there.”
• • •
Lea was sitting at an outside table with a frothy latte in front of her when her sister arrived. “You won’t believe what Paul has asked me to do.”
“Charter a fishing boat?” Maddy suggested, alluding to Lea’s previous narrow escape from drowning at the hands of a ruthless thug.
“Very funny,” Lea said, blowing on her coffee. “He wants me to pursue a lead on a possible suspect.”
“Now you’re the one who’s being funny. I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true. He’s worried one of his clients may come under suspicion. He wants me to uncover the truth before the man is falsely accused.”
�
�Something Tom is totally capable of doing,” Maddy quipped, still smarting over the innuendos Tom had made about Scott. “Who does he want you to check out, Sherlock?”
“An associate of Jim Mitchell’s who’s been making offers to buy up land around Albert Benson’s property without his boss’ knowledge.”
Maddy reached over to scoop the whipped cream from Lea’s drink. “That sounds interesting.”
“Hey,” Lea objected, “where are you going with that?”
Maddy popped the cream in her mouth and licked the spoon. “What does Paul think the associate is up to?”
“He’s not sure,” Lea said, “but he’s worried that Jim Mitchell could be implicated even if Jim has no knowledge of his associate’s actions.”
“Why doesn’t Paul handle it?”
“He doesn’t want to get the employee in trouble with Jim if there’s a good reason for his behavior,” Lea said. “Besides, Paul has no plausible reason to question Mike.”
“I assume that’s where you enter the picture,” Maddy said. “Not that you’ve ever needed a reason to snoop, but what cover have you come up with?”
“Paul’s arranged a meeting for me to get information to submit a proposal for the advertising campaign on Jim’s condominium project. I’m meeting with Mike Young tomorrow morning.”
“You seem very pleased with yourself,” Maddy said. She pinched her lips into a pout. “It was like pulling teeth to get you involved when it came to Scott. Paul asks for help, and you’re all in.”
“Don’t be silly,” Lea said, reaching across the table to grab her sister’s hand. “Look at it this way: by finding the real killer, we’ll take care of both your friend and Paul’s client.”
“Isn’t there some kind of conflict in trying to prove two people innocent?”
“We aren’t representing anyone,” Lea insisted. “We’re simply fact-finders, trying to make certain that justice is served.”
“Yeah, whatever. The only service I’m interested in right now is having a slice of carrot cake delivered to our table.”
“Get your mind off your stomach, and tell me what progress you’ve made on your end.”
“I’ve set up a different kind of meeting,” Maddy said. A smile like a Cheshire cat spread across her face. “You and I are going to pow-wow with an Indian chief to find out the cause of the ruckus among the ranchers.”
