Liquid Lies

by Lois Lavrisa

  A little while later, I arrived at City Hall. The mayor had stepped out for a moment. His secretary led me into his office, and instructed me to sit down in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. I turned off my cell.

  His large office had a mahogany desk with a bold print modern rug under it. It was well appointed, with a conference table at one end, and a sitting area with chairs and sofas at the other. Pictures adorned his walls, and bookcases. Many were of the mayor with dignitaries, athletes, and movie stars.

  Vivian was right. Charles had sure come a long way from his underprivileged childhood. It appeared that he fit right in with the best of them now.

  “I’m so sorry, CiCi. I heard about your co-worker Mark,” the mayor said as he returned.

  “Thank you. He was also my best friend. It’s just devastating,” I said choking out the words.

  The mayor sat in the chair next to me rather than the chair behind his desk. His secretary walked in with a tray that held a carafe, two coffee cups, creamer and sugar. The mayor thanked her as she left. He poured us both a cup of coffee.

  “I’m sorry for disturbing you at the office. I know you have so much to do, but Juanita thought that you wouldn’t mind,” I apologized.

  “Don’t worry for even one minute. I’m glad you’re here. I miss Francesca so much it hurts. Seeing you makes me feel like I have a part of her still here with me.” He looked away. “You were like sisters.”

  “You know I loved her and would never hurt her, regardless of what anyone may be saying,” I said.

  “Yes, I’ve heard the rumor of you being a potential suspect. But I believe you would never kill anyone.”

  The secretary buzzed on the speaker. “Excuse me, mayor. You have an urgent call. Can you take it?”

  “Part of me did not want to come back to work yet, but I had to. There are too many people relying on me. CiCi, can you wait outside while I take this call?” he asked.

  “Sure. Take your time.” I walked into the lobby and situated myself on the couch near the secretary’s desk.

  Through the door I heard the mayor raise his voice. Although I couldn’t make out everything, I did make out one word, ‘double-cross,’ and a few choice swear words.

  A new copy of People magazine kept me occupied for most of the time. Maybe ten minutes went by before the mayor opened his door and motioned for me to come back in his office.

  “Please forgive me CiCi, it seems that I’m always putting out fires. But I’m grateful that the citizens of this city have entrusted me to look out for their interests. It is always so nice seeing you, but I’m afraid right now I don’t have any more time to talk,” he said.

  “No problem. I’ll see you tonight at the memorial,” I said.

  “And thank you again for agreeing to do the eulogy.” He escorted me out of his office.

  “No problem.” Big problem.

  So much for asking the mayor any questions. Maybe what Mark said was more like Charles Foster Kane’s dying declaration of ‘Rosebud.’ Maybe it meant nothing related to anything at all.

  ***

  I turned on my cell. I had received more calls in the time I was at City Hall. I listened to my messages. Three of them were from Jacob wanting to see if I was okay. So far I had done a pretty good job avoiding him.

  Estelle had called and told me that she and Hazel had made some big wigs mad at them for holding up the hospital’s expansion. Their grassroots campaign had so far resulted in over one thousand signatures on a petition. They had an appointment at the hospital to present the petition to Round Lake Hospital’s CEO, Robert McNally. They wanted me to meet them there now.

  Estelle said they were gaining a huge following, large enough that those in charge had to take notice. I wasn’t sure yet if Robert McNally was taking notice to try to shut them up, or to actually listen to them. But I headed over to the hospital to find out for myself.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  When I arrived, Estelle and Hazel were waiting in the outer lobby, in front of Robert McNally’s office. We greeted each other with hugs.

  “After he sees this, he’ll have no choice but to cancel the eminent domain order,” Hazel said as she waved a stack of papers in the air.

  “We’ll show them! They can’t take our homes without a fight,” Estelle added, shaking her petite wrinkled fist in the air.

  “Ladies, Mr. McNally will see you now,” The secretary said as she led us to the large wooden double doors. She opened the door, and announced us to the CEO. Then she waved us into his office.

  “Good afternoon ladies.” Robert McNally greeted all three of us with handshakes, and then motioned for us to sit around a large round conference table. He wore a dark suit and a pressed white shirt with a red tie, his thick white hair was combed back off his rather striking face. He offered coffee and danishes that were on a tray in the center of the table. Estelle and Hazel accepted, and both heaped sugar and cream into their cups while they each plunked a danish onto a plate.

  “I have to say, I’m really proud of you to take it upon yourselves to help your neighbors,” Robert McNally said.

  Hazel handed him the petition. He flipped through the pages, and then set in on the table in front of us.

  “Oh, I’m not only saving my neighbors’ houses, but mine too,” Estelle said, and then took a bite of her danish. “These are delicious. Are these from Baker Betty’s?”

  “Yes, they are. The best in town,” McNally said with a smile.

  “Ooh, I may have to take another,” Hazel said as she reached and placed another on her plate. “The strawberry cheesecake danish is divine.”

  “I can try to make them,” Estelle said.

  In unison both Hazel and I said, “No.”

  “I mean, you don’t have to trouble yourself to make them. Anyway, we’re here about eminent domain, not baking,” I redirected the conversation. “Thank you for seeing us Mr. McNally, I know how busy you are.”

  “Ms. Coe, I have no problem taking time out to see you. How have you been since I saw you and Ken at last month’s fundraiser?” he asked.

  “Great,” I said then added, “Well except for the fact that our house is going to be bulldozed. This brings me back to the reason we’re here. Hazel and Estelle have organized save our streets, better known as SOS.”

  “Indeed. SOS is a powerful group. We’re working nonstop to get people’s support to prevent the hospital from demolishing our houses to build the new wing. We’ve been working really hard,” Estelle said, then bit in her danish.

  “Yes, that you have been. Ladies, I’ve heard that you’ve been all over town, having meetings and gathering signatures. I even saw you on the ten o’clock news last night,” McNally said.

  “You did? They did not get my best side. I told them my left side,” Hazel said as she turned her head and posed in profile. “See, isn’t this my better side?”

  “Hazel, you looked great. I looked poufy,” Estelle said.

  “No, you looked like a super model,” Hazel said.

  “You both looked great, so back to why we’re here,” I said. “Mr. McNally, we would like you to consider our petition to cancel the eminent domain order.”

  “Ladies, I certainly appreciate your grassroots effort. I actually admire your spunk,” McNally said as he leaned back and crossed his leg.

  “Spunky, that’s us. You can’t mess with spunk,” Hazel smiled as she leaned over and patted the top of Estelle’s hand.

  “However ladies, there is no law requiring a referendum on the eminent domain ruling. So unfortunately, these petitions are of no legal consequence,” he said firmly.

  “Surely you don’t want to do something the community objects to? These petitions show that well over one thousand citizens are opposed to it,” Hazel said.

  “There’s no other place for the expansion. Trust us, we conducted an extensive investigation into this,” McNally said.

  “Can’t you just stop it? I mean, isn’t this hospita
l big enough? Why not quit while you’re ahead?” Hazel begged.

  “We’ve already incurred expenses including permitting, architectural drawings, engineering studies and many other facets of the project. Everything surrounding the project has been thoroughly and thoughtfully researched and planned. As you know we broke ground on the vacant lots already. We have construction crews already moving ahead on the first phase,” he said. “I’m afraid it is out of my hands now.”

  “And phase two?” Hazel asked. “Let me guess, that’s the ripping people out of their home phase.”

  “Please stop it. Just do one phase. I’ve lived in my house over fifty years. And we have signatures,” Estelle cried. “What about the petition?”

  “Even though there is no legal effect and I’d like to respond to your petition, there simply is no other location for the new wing. We need this addition to keep up with the demand of our community and to offer a cutting edge cardiology unit in addition to other critical needs. So as much as I appreciate and empathize with your concerns, the expansion will proceed as planned. Please be aware that there will be appropriate compensation given to those affected. Certainly we want to look out for the well-being of both our city and our citizens,” he said.

  “Please forgive me, Mr. McNally, but what I gathered is that eminent domain will continue, regardless of Hazel and Estelle’s’ petition against it,” I clarified.

  “No, you have to stop it,” Estelle pleaded.

  “Yes, please reconsider. All these people are against the expansion. You have to listen,” Hazel said as she pointed at the petition on the table.

  “Please know that I understand your concern, but that everything is in place to continue with the original plans. Again, just compensation will be awarded to affected homeowners,” he said as he cleared his throat.

  “Just?” Estelle asked.

  “There is nothing fair about tearing down people’s houses,” Hazel added.

  “And, no disrespect meant, but what compensation? Exactly how do you compensate for memories? I have a billion dollars worth of memories in that house,” Estelle said, her voice quivering and her eyes watering up.

  “You can’t kick her out of her home,” Hazel said as she held Estelle’s hand. “You just can’t throw her out on the street like that.”

  “While I certainly understand your concern, you have to recognize this is the best for the city. Of course we will pay adequate market value. I’m afraid that the constitution doesn’t require compensation for memories, but you will get a fair deal. I assure you of that,” he said as he stood.

  “Mr. McNally, you have to admit that this is very distressing. People in this community are losing more than their homes and their cherished memories. They’re also losing their neighbors, their lifestyle,” I said as I swallowed back a sob.

  Both Estelle and Hazel dabbed tears from their eyes.

  “While I acknowledge the valiance of your efforts, there is nothing that can be done.” He sighed and looked at his watch.

  “But this can’t be it. There just has to be something we can do,” Hazel pleaded.

  “Will you please forgive me? I have to end this meeting,” he said.

  Hazel, Estelle and I stood.

  “Can’t you reconsider? What about the people on the petition who are against this? It’s not just the three of us in this room. I mean, can’t we have a town meeting, get it voted on, anything at all?” Hazel inquired.

  “Yes, is there anything that can be done?” I asked.

  He strode to his desk. I followed him as Estelle and Hazel stood motionless by the conference table. A credenza adjacent to his desk, held framed photos and a variety of sailing trophies. The largest trophy caught my eye. Engraved at the bottom: First Place, Robert “Ace” McNally.

  My mouth fell open. Holy smokes. He’s the married guy who was involved with Francesca. And come to think of it, he’d had more than a little physical contact with the hostess at the Round Lake Bed and Breakfast this morning.

  I turned to Mr. McNally, in almost a sigh I said, “You’re Francesca’s Ace?”

  He glared at me. He narrowed his eyes then abruptly turned away from me and marched toward the door.

  Mr. McNally announced, “If that is all ladies, I must get back to business. Thank you for coming.”

  “Then I’m taking the rest of these,” Hazel walked over to the table, opened her purse and threw the rest of the danishes inside then trudged out the door.

  Estelle followed, her shoulders slumped. I was the last out.

  Before Robert McNally closed the door I whispered to him through the crack, “I know who you are, and I think I know what happened to Francesca.”

  He slammed it in my face.

  I stood outside the closed office, until Estelle and Hazel tugged my arm to go.

  ***

  We talked about the meeting during the walk from the hospital. Estelle and Hazel decided to consult an attorney, hoping that he would find a loophole in the eminent domain. I had to admit, they were tenacious.

  “But will we have enough money for an attorney? We had some funds in our SOS account, but now with our treasurer gone,” Hazel said.

  “Who was your treasurer?” I asked.

  “Mark. God rest his soul,” Estelle added.

  “He hated the idea of everyone losing their homes,” I said.

  “Yeah, we were getting so many new SOS members. I mean, even Francesca wanted to join,” Hazel said.

  “Francesca too?” I asked. My voice raised two octaves.

  “She came by the same day, she um…” Estelle stumbled over the last word.

  “That very day she passed. When she met with us, she was in an uproar. She said that she had to take action. Like she was angry at the hospital or something. She felt that she had to get back at them for taking away our homes,” Hazel added.

  “Yeah. She was in a tizzy. Of course we let her sign. We already had one thousand signatures.” Estelle added, “All of our board members were determined to keep the homes.”

  “Do you have a list of the SOS members?” I asked.

  “Sure, it’s on the kitchen counter at home,” Estelle said before she and Hazel headed off.

  Maybe it was just a coincidence, but both Mark and Francesca were dead, and they were both involved in the SOS group. A group that was against the hospital expansion. The same hospital that had Robert McNally at the helm.

  Robert “Ace” McNally. Francesca’s boyfriend. The same boyfriend that Detective Wurkowski mentioned Francesca wrote about in her journal. The same boyfriend she told her aunt Vivian that she had fought with. Was he also the person she had to meet with the night I saw her at H&K’s? And did Robert McNally kill her? Everything was getting more complicated. But, let’s say Robert McNally killed Francesca, why would he also kill Mark? And, if it was him, would he kill again?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Francesca’s memorial was in four hours. And now I needed to write a eulogy and find the killer. Time was running out.

  The underlying grief I felt for both Francesca and Mark was so tremendous that it filled me with a profound heaviness throughout my entire body. It could have crushed me. Instead of letting my sorrow take over I replaced it with absolute determination. No matter what, I would find their killer. If my hunches were right, the killer was McNally. Although Jacob was not completely off of my suspect list, yet.

  What I needed was help. Although I wanted to go it alone, maybe it was not the best way to proceed. I needed help, another set of eyes and ears on the case. Who could I trust? Ken was out of the picture.

  Estelle and Hazel had their hands full as it was with SOS. Lucas was swamped at the newspaper, plus it might not be good to have someone from the newspaper involved before he needed to be. Samuel had too much going on taking over Mark’s job on the mail boat and with the funeral home.

  As much as I felt that I needed to stay away from Jacob, maybe he was someone who could assist me. That is, if he
could be cleared of murder. On his deathbed, Mark said ‘not Jacob,’ but on the other hand, Jacob did fall for my bait at the pavilion. Only one way to find out.

  I scrolled through the list of received calls in my cell. I found Jacob’s and hit the call button. He picked up on the first ring. I no idea of what to lead with so I just said, “Hey.”

  “Well hi, you’ve been impossible to get a hold of,” Jacob said.

  “Yeah, I’ve had my phone off a lot today. Listen, can I ask you a question?” I asked.

  “Sure, what’s up,” he said.

  “Where were you last night between the hours of eight and eleven?” I asked.

  “Are you a parole officer?” he said.

  “Jeez, do you have one?” I was stunned.

  “No,” he chuckled. “You’re so easy to rattle.”

  “So where did you say you were last night?” I asked.

  “I feel like you’re already my girlfriend, checking up on me. If you really need to know, a few guys and I were having dinner at H&K’s,” he said.

  “You were? Why?”

  “We were hungry,” he said.

  “No. I didn’t mean why. Of course you go to a restaurant to eat. This sounds so nosy, but I promise in time I’ll let you know. How long were you there?” I asked.

  “Listen I don’t mind. I have nothing to hide. I think we met up at eight thirty or so. We’re working on forming our own construction company. Trying to iron out a business plan over dinner and drinks,” he said.

  “When did you leave?” I asked.

  “You know I was home at one a.m., remember you came over?”

  “Um yes,” I got distracted thinking about our romp. Then I continued, “How long were you with your business partners?”

  “I guess until eleven or so. Actually eleven thirty. That’s right, because the band announced that anyone who wanted a request to get them in because they were wrapping up at midnight,” he said. “They were still playing when we left.”

  “Okay,” I said. I knew I had to go and check out his alibi.