by Anne Hagan
Chloe just had to know what she was up to. Dropping her previous plan entirely, she instead stepped on the gas, made a quick right and then took the next road on the left herself.
She caught Kara quickly because she had the advantage of knowing where on the road the church was while Kara did not. The other woman was cruising along slowly, scanning ahead of herself.
When she found it about a half mile down, Kara turned into the lot and found a place to park near where other cars were parked by a back door that led directly downstairs into the fellowship hall. Chloe pulled in right beside her and jumped out of her own car as fast as her 58-year-old legs would let her.
The other woman extracted herself a lot more slowly from her own vehicle. Chloe waited in front of the car and greeted her when she was finally standing.
“Hello Kara. Good to see you.”
“Have we met?”
“Not in person, no, but we’ve spoken on the phone several times. I’m Chloe Rossi.” Chloe extended her hand.
Kara took it but didn’t shake it. Instead, she asked, “How did you know who I was?”
“I own the store the store in front of the bakery you stopped in the last time you were here when Faye took you down to the opera house. She told me what you were driving. We don’t see too many cars like this around here.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Chloe brushed off the air of disdain in her tone. “I wish we’d have known you were coming. There are several things we could show you. What brings you back here?”
Kara exhaled loudly. “Honestly? I need to get that building sold ASAP. There’s word of another investment opportunity opening up shortly and I don’t want to let it get away too. I don’t need as much this time and so I figured I’d come here, stir the pot a little and see if I could get a deal done with someone…anyone.”
“And so instead of making some calls, you drove all the way down here again? Why not fly?” Chloe gave her an odd look.
“Talking on the phone wasn’t getting anything done and I detest all of the trappings of flying; hurrying to an airport only to wait in long lines where we’re all treated like cattle and, frankly, I’d still end up having to rent a car and drive all the way out here anyway to this…this…” She trailed off but Chloe caught the implication.
“Why are you here; at the church, I mean?” Chloe played a little dumb as she flipped a hand toward it. “We told you the board didn’t bite on the opportunity to buy the opera house. They’re in there meeting now but I’m not sure they’d welcome an interruption, not tonight, anyway.”
“That developer that wants the property is in there. I’m past caring what happens to it. I don’t even care if it gets on the Historical Register anymore. I just want it gone and a decent price for it.”
“Faye’s in there too.”
Kara’s face fell. “Look, I’m sorry that it’s come to this and I hate to disappoint Faye and the Boy Scouts and whoever else is in on this crazy plan that the two of you have concocted but I have to look out for my own interests and I explained all of that to Faye before. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go in there and do just that.”
Chloe put out a hand to stop her. “I understand your position; I do. You need to know that this is a special meeting that’s been called due to a…a very difficult situation. They really need their time to work through that, uninterrupted. Why don’t you wait out here with me or we can even go back into town to my daughters’ home and relax while we wait? I’ll send Faye a message to have Kent stop there…”
Kara mirrored Chloe’s action of moments before and held up her own hand. “I’m well aware of what’s probably going on in there. I have a few things to say about that too.”
With that, she brushed by Chloe and entered the church. Chloe, both put off and curious, followed right behind her.
“…whether that means just listening to him or it means seeking out professional help for him – just as we owe a debt of security to his family,” Evan was saying, when Kara strode into the fellowship hall.
Aiden leaned back in his chair and looked to his right, past Evan seated there as Kara’s heels sounded against the old, polished concrete floor. “Can I help you with something ma’am?” he asked politely and then he realized Chloe was behind her. “Mrs. Rossi, is there a problem?”
Faye caught sight of the two women herself and did a double take.
Kara cut right to the chase. “I understand you’re in the middle of an important meeting and I do apologize for that, however, I’m here to see a Mr. Kent Gross and there are others of you that may be interested in hearing what I have to say as well.”
Kent rose and offered the woman his hand. “I’m Kent and you’re Kara Bradshaw, correct?”
“You recognize me Mr. Gross?”
“Of course. Allow me to preface what you’re about to propose by telling the rest of the board who you are.” He pulled her slightly forward with the hand he was still holding. “Ms. Bradshaw,” he told the other members, “is a Broadway singer in New York who has worked in shows, musicals and operas.”
“She’s also the owner of our little opera house, here in the village,” Faye interrupted.
Kent shot her a look for stealing his thunder.
“Is that why you’re here unexpectedly and unannounced?” Faye questioned her. “You’re hell bent on selling that building right away, aren’t you?”
“Faye Crane!” Mildred exclaimed.
“We’ve been sitting here beating around the bush for the past fifteen minutes and now this. No one is saying what they mean. I’d like to dispense quickly so we can move on with the real business at hand.”
“She’s right,” Kara said. “Mr. Gross is too. I’m in the business of show business; for now, on the stage side of things but, in the future, I want to produce. That building is an asset – my asset – of some value but it isn’t doing me any good to own it. I need to sell it and use the proceeds for a producing investment opportunity.”
“At this point,” she continued, “I don’t care who buys the ‘opera house’, as you call it. He can buy it,” she pointed at Kent, “or you can Mrs. Crane for the village, the scouts or whomever you’re representing this week,” she said as she looked at Faye, “or you all can buy it for the church as I know has been discussed.” She waved a finger to signify the board council members.
“Ms. Bradshaw, I’m Aiden Quinn, the President of this council. You’re correct. We have discussed purchasing the opera house from you but we’ve determined as a group that it will not meet the needs of the church without major modifications that it does not have the property to allow nor do we have the funds to accomplish.”
“So, in this group, it comes down to you Mr. Gross and you Faye.” She looked pointedly from one to the other.
“Just hold on a minute,” Aiden said. “The village has formed a community foundation under the direction of Mrs. Crane and also Mrs. Rossi, here. I’m a member of their board and their financial advisor.”
His statement took Faye by surprise but she was stayed quiet. They had talked about it but when the community meeting ended in people taking sides and name calling, the issue of naming people to a board hadn’t been resolved. She was pleased he wanted on board because she knew he wasn’t just blowing smoke at the Bradshaw woman. He was a man of his word.
“Faye and Chloe have applied to get the building on the National Historical Register,” Aiden went on, “and, as a foundation, we’ve also applied to be recognized as a 501c3 non-profit entity which, when granted, will allow us to qualify for financing outright to purchase that building directly for the foundation.”
“Lovely, Mr. Quinn, is it?” Kara asked but didn’t wait for his response. “I don’t have the time to wait for all of that. As a numbers man, I’m sure you can understand my position. I need to sell that building now, not in three or four more months when you have non-profit status.”
Aiden addressed Faye, “For Cole’s project to work, t
he building can be owned by any public or charitable, not for profit entity, right?”
Faye nodded.
He whirled quickly back to Kara. “I’ll buy it myself Mrs. Bradshaw through my own 501c3 organization.”
“What?” Faye and Chloe asked in unison.
“I established…er, I should say, the Quinn family established a charitable foundation years ago to fund scholarships for area high school students to go on to trade and technical schools. We still have it and we still fund it but it’s something we hardly think about now.”
Faye knew he was being modest and others on the board did too. The Quinn family and Aiden in particular were very active in promoting and awarding the scholarships.
“We’ll buy the building from you and, when the community foundation is ready, we’ll re-sell it to them.”
“Over my dead body, Quinn!” Kent said, his face and neck turning a bright shade of red. He jabbed a finger at Aiden, “We talked about this here at council and then again at the community meeting. That old, dilapidated, monstrosity isn’t worth restoring and operating. It needs to go! And you know damn well I want that land.”
“Mr. Gross!” Evan interrupted, “might I remind you we are in a house of God? Please control yourself.”
Kent shrank back a little but his glare at Aiden remained intense.
Quinn didn’t wither. He paid him no mind at all, instead asking, “What are you asking for the opera house, Ms. Bradshaw?”
“$100,000.”
Kent scoffed. “Still out of your ever-loving mind, I see. It’s not worth that. It’s not worth half of that.”
“You told me outside,” Chloe said, “that you need less to do this deal than the last deal you were trying to buy into.”
Faye shot Chloe a grateful look and added, “The roof alone needs more than 10,000 in repairs Kara. There’s almost as much as that required for wiring and code upgrades. You can’t possibly expect Mr. Quinn and his family to take on a building at such a high cost given those fundamental needs, can you?”
“I’ll write you a check right now,” Kent said, “for the value of the land, $15,000. The building is worth nothing.”
“Don’t insult me Mr. Gross. It’s obvious there are others in the room willing to pay more. Perhaps, at a low enough price, even the church will become an interested party again.”
“Young woman,” Evan said to her who, even though she wasn’t young by theater standards, was more than 40 years his junior, “you’ve wasted a lot of time we could have spent on a pressing matter before this board. Tell Mr. Quinn what your bottom dollar price is and let’s go from there.”
Kara actually smiled at Brietland. “You remind me of my own grandfather. Bottom line, huh? Well, with fees and so forth for closing, and considering what Mr. Quinn or the community will have to put in it, I can go as low as $65,000, but no lower, and only that if we can get a deal done in the next 7-10 days. Time is imperative.”
“Consider it done,” Aiden said. “We can work out all the details in the morning.”
Bradshaw gave him an affirming nod.
Kent’s face formed into a full scowl. “You’re out of your mind Quinn but you leave me with no alternative.”
He looked at Kara. “Ms. Bradshaw, I can have a cashier’s check in your hand for $70,000 tomorrow morning as soon as my bank opens but not a dime more and only that with great reluctance.”
Chapter 4 - Bombshell
Faye clenched her fists into balls and started to rise from her chair. Aiden held out a hand to stay her.
He stayed in his own chair but leaned to his right, half way across Evan Brietland and, speaking in a low, controlled voice, said to Kent, “There’s a village full of people here who want to see that building get on the National Register and see it preserved. They’re dead set against you tearing it down.”
Evan spoke up again. “You can count me among them and your foundation,” he looked at Aiden, “and your eventual one,” he said looking toward Faye, “will both have my support for scholarship money and the funds for purchase and repair.”
Gross rolled his eyes to the ceiling, tipped his head back and shook it. “You’re all thinking with your hearts and not your brains,” he said, as he tapped his chest with his hand several times. “That building will be a constant drain on your time and on your finances. I wish I could make you see that.”
“You’re not going to win this one, Mr. Gross,” Faye ground out, making his name sound like the something distasteful that it implied. “Go ahead and try to buy it. I’ll get an injunction to stop you while we get it on the National Register and much of the town will back me.”
“You can’t get an injunction to stop me from buying something if Ms. Bradshaw wants to sell it.”
“Oh, but she can,” Evan put in. “An offer was tendered and accepted before yours, and counter to your previous low ball offer. We’re all witnesses. We all heard it. I didn’t get where I am today by not knowing a thing or two about verbal contracts.”
“Except, Kent said, “that Ms. Bradshaw didn’t exactly say anything. I didn’t get where I am by not knowing anything about verbal contracts myself.”
All eyes turned to Kara. The once confident diva began to wither under their glare.
Aiden broke into the stare down between her and the other members of council by addressing Kent again. “Maybe you need to let this one go; be a little community minded. You have a lot of property. You could re-think the location of your little foo-foo inn; either use some of that golf course property for it after all or put it out of town on a bigger tract and make it a real hotel and spa.”
It was quiet in the room for several long seconds then Kent broke the spell. “Who here believes in ghosts?” he asked. He looked around the table and over at Kara. No one said anything. “I’m being serious. You’re all church people. Surely you believe in ghosts?”
“The afterlife,” Mildred said, “but not ghosts.”
“I believe,” Chloe spoke up. “I’ve seen one.”
Faye nodded and admitted, “I have too.”
Kent said, “And so do I.” He sighed, “This is going to sound bad coming from me at this point but there’s something else we all need to think about.” He paused for effect. “A man died in that building under mysterious circumstances. It may well be haunted.”
“You can’t be serious,” Evan thundered.
Everyone else shot looks at each other around the table. Doris was wild eyed at the thought.
Faye looked over at Kara. Her expression was impassable. The woman was hard to read until she opened her mouth. She looked next at Kent and then she thought of something.
“How do you know,” she asked him, “that his death was under mysterious circumstances?”
“It’s obvious to me that everything about that situation is odd,” Kent said.
He stood and walked halfway to where Kara and Chloe stood. “Ms. Bradshaw; it seems you have two offers on the table. One for $65,000 which ensures the preservation of the building, at least for a while and possibly the restlessness of your husband’s spirit.”
“Ex-husband,” she said firmly.
“Ex-husband then; or my offer for $70,000 with my full acknowledgement that I’ll be tearing the building down no matter if Mrs. Crane over there files for any sort of court action against me or not.”
“That could slow the sale Mr. Gross and I’m not stupid. I don’t believe in ghosts and I need the money sooner, not later. Waiting through court proceedings could cost a small fortune and take months and all for another $5,000. That’s time and money that I don’t have.”
Kara stepped away from Kent, walked over to Aiden and extended her hand. He took it and they shook as she said, “Mr. Quinn, you have yourself a deal. $65,000 with the details to be worked out tomorrow.”
Faye beamed and so did Chloe.
Kara continued, “I’m staying in Zanesville again this trip.” Her shudder was visible, at least to Faye. “Can we meet in th
e morning, Mr. Quinn?”
“It’s Aiden and we absolutely can. How about I meet you in the hotel lobby at 9:00? We can go by my lawyer and talk about the contract, if you like?”
“I actually have a contract drawn up. We just have to add the figures, but you’re certainly welcome to have your lawyer look it over.”
“That’d be fine and I can get money transferred from my personal holdings to the foundation and then a cashier’s check drawn up for you in town too.”
Kara nodded to him. “That’s settled then.” She looked around the room. “Everyone, it’s been real and I’m glad that most of you, it seems, will be getting what you wanted. I wish you well with the building…the opera house, as you insist on calling it, whatever you eventually decide to do with it. In all honesty, I’ll be glad to be done with it and most of all with your bigamist pastor.”
“What?” Aiden asked.
Kara looked at him and then back at the puzzled expressions among the group. “I said your bigamist pastor. I thought that’s why you were meeting. You mean you didn’t know?”
Aiden shook his head no. Doris fainted.
About the Author
Anne Hagan is an East Central Ohio based government employee by day and author by night. She and her wife live in a tiny town that's even smaller than the Morelville of her Mystery fiction novels and they wouldn't have it any other way. Anne's wife grew up there and has always considered it home. Though it's an ultra-conservative rural community, they're surrounded there by family, longtime friends and many other wonderful people with open hearts and minds. They enjoy spending time with Anne's son and his wife, with their nieces and nephews and doing many of the things you've read about in her books or that will be 'fictitiously' incorporated into future Morelville Mysteries and Cozies series books. If you've read about a hobby or a sport in either series, they probably enjoy doing it themselves or someone very close to them does.
