“Wait,” Maggie said, beginning to catch on. “You said ‘actively farmed’.”
Shane nodded approvingly. “I did. Because you have not claimed the farm as neither a source of income – or loss – there are those that are vying to rescind your special tax status.”
“So Maggie’s taxes will go up,” Kieran said, shrugging. “So what?”
“That is a gross understatement, I’m afraid. Unless Maggie uses at least part of the land for agricultural purposes, the entire property will be rezoned and reassessed.”
“I still don’t see what the problem is. Won’t the agreement with the Goddess take care of all that?” Lexi asked.
“It would, if Maggie could retain ownership long enough to see that come to fruition.”
“Shane, what is it you are not telling me?”
Shane blew out a breath. He looked so apologetic Maggie actually felt a stab of sympathy for him. “There’s a motion before the County Board to not only reassess and rezone, but to make the changes retroactive back to when Maggie assumed ownership ten years ago. To make matters worse, they are planning on charging Maggie with tax evasion and fraud, saying she knew what she was doing all along and has deliberately been abusing the privileges of her special status.”
“That’s insane!” Several of them voiced their opinions in creative ways.
“Those charges will tie the property rights up in red tape indefinitely, so that any tentative agreement with the Goddess becomes effectively meaningless. Then, between the fines, penalties, back-taxes, and interest, Maggie – we’re talking about an ungodly sum of money.”
The color drained from her face. “Can they really do that?”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’re not going to let that happen,” Michael assured her, tightening his hold on her slightly.
“Hell, no,” Ian agreed heartily.
The next hour was spent discussing options and ideas. Maggie remained silent throughout most of it. It was hard for her to believe that Spencer would go to such lengths to destroy her, even with the amount of money involved. How could she have underestimated him so?
“Shane?” Maggie asked quietly, laying her hand upon his arm as he walked out into the hallway. She’d been waiting for a chance to speak with him out of earshot from the others. “When we marry, will Michael then become liable as well?”
Shane shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Clearly he did not want to answer the question, but Maggie persisted. “Please, Shane. I have to know.”
“Yes. According to Pennsylvania state law, assets – and liabilities - are shared jointly between spouses unless special arrangements – like a prenup – are made.” He paused, as though unsure whether or not to continue. “But I have to tell you, Maggie, getting something like that done at this point would not be advisable. Not to mention the fact that Mick would blow a gasket.”
Maggie nodded. It was as she suspected. “And Aidan and Lexi? If I sign the papers, then they’re pretty much in limbo until all this gets resolved, right?”
“Yeah, pretty much. But they’re not going to back out on you, no matter what. None of us are.”
“Thanks, Shane.” She patted his arm and turned to go.
“Maggie? You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Thanks.”
* * *
When Shane re-entered the kitchen a few minutes later, he was instantly and violently pinned up against the wall. Ian had his left side, Kieran, his right.
“What did you say to her?” Ian demanded.
“What are you talking about? I just went to take a pi - ”
“You leave the room. Maggie follows you out. Two minutes later she rips the Goddess agreement in half and tells Michael the wedding’s off. What the fuck did you do?”
The color drained from Shane’s face as he realized what Maggie had just done. “Fuck. Where is she?”
“Upstairs. Michael’s trying to talk some sense into her.”
* * *
It was obvious a short time later by Michael’s expression that he hadn’t been very successful, but Ian decided to ask anyway. “Any luck?”
“No,” Michael answered in a low growl. From the set of his jaw and the way he kept running his hand through his hair, his frustration came through clearly. “She says she’s not going to take us down with her.”
“That’s bullshit!” Sean exclaimed.
“Well of course it is,” Jack Callaghan scoffed. “But Maggie’s a good woman. She’s going to protect the ones she loves.”
“Unfortunately, Dad’s right,” Michael exhaled. “You don’t know Maggie. She’s stubborn as hell, and I don’t think she’s going to budge on this.”
Shane stood and said with determination, “Then I guess it’s up to us to make sure this gets cleared up quickly.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“I don’t care. I’ll wait.” Maggie took a seat outside of Spencer’s office, refusing to budge until he saw her. The flustered personal assistant – not the same one from a year and a half ago, she noted – didn’t seem to know quite what to do. But it had been no easy feat to slip out from beneath the watchful eyes of her self-appointed big brothers, and she was not leaving without speaking to him.
“Is there a problem, Janice?” Spencer asked, stepping out of his office.
“This woman insists on speaking with you,” the woman said. Disapproval dripped from her perfectly-coiffed form, evident by the distinct downturn of her scarlet lips and scathing glances from her artfully smudged, lined eyes. “She refuses to leave. I was just about to call Security –“
“No need, Janice,” Spencer said smoothly when he saw who stood there. “Maggie is an old friend.”
Janice looked like she wanted to argue, but her lips, thinned in irritation, softened when Spencer smiled at her. Maggie fought the urge to roll her eyes. Apparently Spencer’s female fan club was still going strong. She wondered vaguely how many “bonuses” this one earned, then realized she really didn’t care.
Spencer led Maggie into his plush office. Little had changed since the last time she was in here, though this time she was able to appreciate the quality décor since her eyes weren’t drawn to the sight of Spencer having sex with his secretary on his desk.
“Please, sit down, Maggie. Would you care for some tea? You were quite fond of jasmine, if I recall.”
“I would love some, thank you,” she said, sitting down carefully in an expensive leather chair. Clearly surprised by her easy agreement, his eyebrows rose slightly, but he recovered quickly. Pressing a button, he made the request.
Spencer stepped in front of his desk, then leaned back against it, facing her in a classic power pose. The dark navy suit fit him perfectly. The striped blue and gray tie was a bit conservative for him, but maybe he was finally growing up a little.
“You look beautiful, Maggie,” he said. “Radiant, in fact. Pregnancy agrees with you. But then I always knew it would.”
Maggie wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. There was no use in denying it at this point, she supposed. Everyone in Pine Ridge probably knew. “Thank you,” she managed.
“Michael Callaghan is a lucky man, Maggie. I hope he has more sense than I.”
It was a good thing she was already sitting down, since his unexpected words would have knocked her on her behind. Not so much because of the words themselves – Spencer could charm the scales off of a snake if there was a profit involved – but because he actually sounded sincere.
How exactly was she supposed to respond to that? Thankfully, she was saved from having to by a soft knock on the door announcing the arrival of the refreshments. Spencer thanked Janice (who glared daggers at Maggie behind his back), then proceeded to pour a cup of tea for Maggie and coffee for himself. Rather than sit behind his massive desk, he took the matching leather chair adjacent to hers.
“So tell me, Maggie. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit today?”
The tea smelled wonderful,
but Maggie’s stomach was doing flip-flops. “I think you know why I’m here, Spencer.”
He raised one eyebrow and sipped his coffee. “Maggie, every time I thought I knew what you were thinking you have proven me wrong. I would not dare to suggest I have even the slightest clue this time.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, the corner of her mouth quirked. She had forgotten how charming Spencer could be when he wasn’t laying it on so thickly.
“Ah,” he said. “You see? A smile would be the very last thing I would expect to receive from you, yet you have surprised me once again. I must tell you, I prefer it to your hand across my cheek.”
Maggie had the good sense to look abashed. “I am sorry for that, Spencer. I should not have lost my temper.”
Spencer inclined his head. “Apology accepted, but I daresay I deserved it.” He lifted the mug to his lips again. “But you did not come by today simply to apologize, did you?”
“No. I came to ask you to call off your hounds, Spencer. I will gladly have the property reassessed, and I will pay the back taxes. But you know that what you are proposing will ruin me.”
“Don’t be melodramatic, Maggie,” he chastised with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It is simply business, nothing personal. And you will be quite well taken care of, I’m sure. You are marrying into a very wealthy family.” He smiled at her look of confusion. “Oh, they don’t flaunt it much, but the Callaghans are the real deal, Maggie. You did well for yourself.”
Her features hardened. The hand holding her tea cup began to shake; she put it down a little too hard, causing it to slosh over the side. “You of all people should know that money is not that important to me, Spencer. Other things – like doing right by the people you care for, making sure they don’t suffer for your mistakes – that’s what is important.”
The steel she tried to instill into her words, the fierce, stubborn pride, was interwoven with undertones of hurt, shock, and betrayal. She’d spoken similar words after she’d discovered his infidelity, when he tried to dissuade her from ending their engagement by telling her that he would lavish her with any gift she desired in penance for his transgression. She had refused, saying that no amount of money was worth betraying someone for.
It still wasn’t.
His smile faded, his brow creased. “Maggie. What did you do?”
She took a deep breath, steadying her voice before answering. She didn’t show weakness before Spencer Dumas last time, she would not do it now. “I’ve called off the wedding.”
“Why on earth would you do such a thing?” For the first time, Spencer seemed shaken. He stood up and paced back and forth a few times. “Do you have an obsession with breaking off engagements or something?”
She flashed him a withering glance. “Do what you want to me, Spencer. But I will not let you hurt them, too.”
“Jesus, Maggie. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I am thinking that it is my home, Spencer, and it was my responsibility to know what was required of my land. It was foolish on my part not to. And I refuse to take good, decent people down with me because of it.”
“But Maggie –“
“But Maggie nothing. You know I’m an honest woman, Spencer, and I’ll make amends. Every cent, without complaint. But even you must understand that if you tie my land up in trumped-up charges and make it impossible for me to farm it I have no hope of earning enough in this lifetime to do so.” She sat forward on her seat. “Please, Spencer. All I ask is that you drop the charges and free my land. It’s been in my family for generations. I’ll work it myself if I have to.”
Spencer looked at her with pity. “Even if I wanted to, there is no way I could contact everyone in time, Maggie. The County Board meeting is in less than four hours. It is too late, Maggie. It’s out of my hands.”
“Surely there is something you can do.”
“I’m sorry, Maggie.”
Maggie’s eyes filled with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. She stood to leave. Spencer put his hand on her arm. “Maggie, go back to Michael. Let him take care of you.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “You really don’t understand, do you? I don’t want anyone to take care of me like some helpless child. If you believe I can do that, Spencer, then you never knew me at all.”
“Maggie – “
Maggie wrenched away from his hand, refusing to listen. The only thing she wanted to do was to get as far away from Spencer Dumas before she did something she would really regret.
* * *
Spencer’s day, it seemed, was not about to improve. He arrived at the County Board meeting late because of the throng of people that had shown up. Every folded chair was occupied; people stood two and three deep in the limited available space. The crowd even spilled out the door.
Spencer’s feeling of dread only got worse when he saw the first two rows before the head table were comprised entirely of Callaghans and their ilk. A closer look showed him that Maggie was noticeably absent.
Some of the Board members shot him irritated glances when they spotted him. Spencer’s acute self-preservation instinct had him deciding to stay in the back near the doors and observe from there.
The Chairman called the meeting to order. Introductions were made along with a brief welcome. The Secretary then rose. The first order of business, as always, was to approve the minutes from the last meeting. When that was taken care of, the room grew silent once again.
“It is encouraging to see so many concerned citizens here this evening,” one of the board members said with a twinkle in his eye. Dirk Bailey was one of the few who could care less about Spencer Dumas or his company. His warnings to the others about leaving sleeping dogs lie went unheeded, and as he gazed out on those gathered, he looked as if he was going to enjoy the results of that. Deep laugh lines were etched in his weather-beaten skin, a result of many hard years farming his own acreage before his sons took over. With his bolo tie and cowboy hat he looked more like he hailed from Texas than northeastern Pennsylvania.
Another member of the board, Lance Williams, cleared his throat. He was a large man, dressed in casual slacks and a designer sweater, no doubt purchased for him by his wife on one of her 5th Avenue shopping sprees. Unlike Dirk Bailey, Lance Williams’ hands were smooth and manicured, a result of his VP position at a Dumas subsidiary. It paid to marry into the Dumas family.
“Yes. Especially when this particular meeting was not on the public schedule.” Lance Williams muttered the words, clearly forgetting that his microphone was turned on.
“The only item on the agenda for this evening is to vote on the motion to rezone certain sections of the county and allow our tax board to reassess any affected properties as soon as possible.”
“How many properties are affected?” a disembodied voice asked from the back of the room.
“For those of you not familiar with the protocol for these meetings, questions or comments must be first recognized by the Board,” the Secretary said icily, shooting another irritated glance toward the back.
At least two dozen hands shot into the air, but the Chairman ignored all of them. It was Shane who stood up. “I wish to speak on the matter.”
“And you are?”
“Shane Callaghan.”
The chairman’s lips grew into an even thinner line.
“Proceed.”
“As I understand it, you are looking to rezone the Flynn property because it has not been used for agricultural purposes. Is that correct?”
“It is not our intent to target a single property, Mr. Callaghan,” Lance Williams said with a forced smile that did not reach his eyes. “We seek to make the tax base more equitable for everyone. The zoning ordinance is very clear on this.” He looked out into the audience, hoping to see some agreeable nods, finding none.
“Yes, it is,” Shane said in his calm, quiet tones. Shane didn’t have to raise his voice or use a microphone to be heard. When he spoke, people couldn’t he
lp but listen. “It clearly states that the land be used for agricultural purposes. Nowhere does it state that such purpose must be for profit.”
On the raised dais, a few members of the board shifted on their seats. “Excuse me?”
“Maggie Flynn has been using the land for agricultural purposes. She cultivates organic herbs for home remedies, which she provides to several members of the community on a regular basis free of charge. She allows the local elementary schools to make use of her land for educational purposes, hosting field trips every fall. She opens the orchards up to the locals of Pine Ridge so that they might pick from them, again without charge. She donates untold bushels of produce to the local shelters and charitable organizations throughout the year.”
Lance Williams shuffled a few papers. “None of that appears in our documentation, Mr. Callaghan.”
“Obviously. That is why there are over one hundred constituents present here this evening, willing to provide testimony.”
The Board members exchanged glances. “How many of you wish to speak on this issue?” the speaker asked. Nearly every person in the audience stood or raised their hand.
Far in the back, Spencer Dumas slipped away, smiling to himself.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Maggie unplugged the land line and turned off her cell phone; she couldn’t stand the incessant ringing any longer. Her answering machine was full, the voicemail maxed out. She closed the curtains and locked the doors. If it had been dark she would have turned out the lights, but the brilliant early summer sunshine prevented her from hiding in the shadows.
She sat at the kitchen table, staring at the scarred top, running her fingers over the wood worn smooth as glass over the years, relishing the feel of each nick and gouge. How much of this would she lose? She would probably end up selling everything just to try and make a dent in the balloon payment she knew was forthcoming. It would only be a matter of time now.
House Calls: Callaghan Brothers, Book 3 Page 22
