Tax Cut (7 page)

When the presentation was over,
Marc turned to me and said, “Clerk, when will this come before us for a public hearing?”

Really?
Did he really refer to me as “Clerk”? That’s fairly degrading,
I thought.

“Um, March
nineteenth,” I responded.

“March
nineteenth? March nineteenth?!” he asked, but it was more of an exclamation than a question. He raised his voice. “Are you out of your mind?” he asked, angrily. “Why isn’t this on for next week’s agenda?”

“Um, the planning board…” I quietly said as my eyes peered downward to the floor.

“I don’t give a hoot about the planning board!” he screamed. He didn’t allow me to explain that the planning board is required to review the ordinance and that their meeting was taking place the day after our next meeting. He didn’t allow me to explain that the state laws required ten days in between the introduction and the public hearing of this ordinance, and we only had six days between meetings. He didn’t allow me to explain that the residents had to receive their notices in the mail at least ten days prior to the meeting. He didn’t allow me to explain anything!

Winifred
piped up, “See, I told you she was incompetent.”

My chin hit the floor.
I could not believe she said that in public. How unprofessional! My face was slowly changing from its pale, winter weather complexion to blood red. I was fuming mad! Before I could utter another syllable, Marc yelled at me again.

“You will place this on the agenda for a public hearing for the next council meeting!” he demanded.

Mr. Bellini finally interjected.

“Mr. President, if I may.”

Marc nodded at him to continue.

“Mr. President, under state statute, you have to allow the
planning board to review the ordinance for compliance with the master plan. Ms. Alton, when is the planning board having their next meeting?”

“Next Thursday
, March sixth,” I responded.

“Mr. President, since this ordinance is sensitive in nature, we want to make sure the proper procedures are followed, to prevent a challenge to the ordinance.”

“Fine!” Marc said. He looked like someone took his ball away from him on the playground. “Staff, schedule a special meeting for March twelfth for the public hearing.”

Jerk.
I thought. I smiled with a large, fake grin and muttered through my clenched teeth. “Yes, sir,” I said.

The meeting proceeded.
All five members of the board voted “yes” to introduce the zoning ordinance. No one from the public got up to make any comments, so that was a positive, but only for my own benefit of not having to sit through a long meeting. I was glad the meeting was over quickly—within a half hour. I stayed to clean up the boardroom, then returned to my office to grab my purse. I heard voices outside in the hallway. I hadn’t bothered with the lights, because I was only going to be a second. It was Marc and Gino.

“You better hold up your end of the bargain,” Gino said in a threatening tone.

“You can see that I am. My hands are tied about how quickly these things can get pushed through. There are laws,” Marc said.

“Screw your laws,” Gino said.

“I’m doing the best I can,” Marc said.

“We’ll see,” Gino said.
“You know what I expect, you know what I will do, and you better deliver.”

I heard footsteps walking away.
I hid in the office a while longer. I didn’t know what any of that meant, but I suddenly had the impression that Marc wasn’t pushing to get this work done of his own free will. I wondered if Gino was holding something over Marc’s head. I wondered if Vinny was mixed up in this something as well. I hoped this wasn’t anything that I would find myself caught in the middle of.

Chapter
7

I woke up the next morning and said, “TGIF!” out loud to myself.
I was happy I had almost survived the first week of work. Only one day left. I got out of bed, let the dog out, took a quick shower, dressed, then made Mandy’s breakfast. I woke her up, dressed her, fed her, then loaded her into the very cold car. After I quickly scraped the ice off my windshield, I dropped Mandy off at my parents’ house. A stop at Take Ten was next on my schedule for a chai latte and an oatmeal raisin cookie. Not the best breakfast, I admitted, but warm chai and a sugar high had a way of making me feel relaxed and ready to take on the day.

I pulled into the parking lot at work, locked up my car
, and headed into the office. I shrugged out of my coat, sat at my desk, put down my coffee, and took a bite of my cookie. I hit the space bar on my keyboard to wake up my sleeping screen. I typed in my password, then choked on my cookie. A shirtless Mike Nero was plastered on the screen.

“Are you okay?”
Bryce asked me when he heard my coughing fit. “Do you need me to go get you a glass of water?”

“I have
a drink here,” I told him. “But it’s not stiff enough. You have got to see this!”

Bryce
stopped what he was doing and walked into my office. Looking over my shoulder at the computer screen, he burst into laughter.

“Is that your stalker?”

I nodded and frowned while Bryce continued to laugh. “How the heck do I get this off my screen?”

“That’s not the question I would have asked,”
Bryce said. “I would have asked, how the heck did that get there?”

“I think someone must be playing a joke on me.
Or maybe Nero knows our IT company? I’ll call them and ask.”

I called over to our IT company and asked them to take it down.
They claimed they didn’t know how it got there. I wasn’t sure if I believed them, but what was I to do? At least they said they’d take it down right away.

I
tried to erase the creepy image of shirtless Nero from my mind by diving into my daily workload, which included placing the ad and map for the zoning ordinance in the newspaper, and then stuffing envelopes. Unfortunately, when four thirty rolled around, I had to call my parents and ask them to keep Mandy. The mailing was nowhere near done and because of the ten-day deadline, technically, residents had to receive the notice by Saturday, which was tomorrow. Sunday would have actually been the tenth day prior to the next board meeting, but, as everyone knew, there was no mail delivery on Sunday. I hoped the post office would get the notices out without delay. I imagined if the mail took more than a day to arrive, there could have been challenges to the ordinance for lack of proper notification. I didn’t have a choice but to stay late to get it all done. I finally finished with everything immediately before eight o’clock. I lucked out because the last page of mailing labels were all labels for Righetti Brothers. I concluded they had already purchased numerous properties for the Village Pier project. Lucky for me, I was able to mail them one notice rather than thirty. I then drove everything over to the main post office, a few towns away, which was open until ten.

My parents call
ed to tell me not to wake Mandy—to go home alone and get some sleep. They wanted to take her to the aquarium in Point Pleasant in the morning. I took their advice; I was exhausted! Plus, there was a beautiful vintage of merlot waiting for me at home.

* * *

That piece of paper had remained in the back of my mind since I had found it, but I didn’t tell anyone about it. I wished I had never found it. I also wished I had never overhead the conversation between Gino and Marc. I mean, I was only working for Coral Beach for a week. I couldn’t exactly go around accusing people of murder or other dirty dealings! People who recently hired me, nonetheless. Unless, of course, it was Winifred. Technically, she didn’t hire me. She said no to my appointment. I couldn’t go to the police here; I hadn’t had time to know who could and couldn’t be trusted. I would surely be fired or even sued for slander if I went around saying anything. I had two options. I could simply forget ever finding that note or I could try to figure out on my own if there was any reason for me to be concerned, then go to the police if needed. No, not the police; someone higher. Maybe the county prosecutor. I had no idea where to start.

I decided to leave work at work today.
I had invited Bonnie over for lunch. I gave her a ring. She agreed to come by around noon. I made a quick lasagna with no-boil noodles and I popped it in the oven. Since it wasn’t quite ready when Bonnie arrived, we decided to take the bottle of Concetta’s Casalinga wine from Plagido’s Winery out back. I lived in a small house on a lagoon I inherited from my Uncle Lou after he used his one-way ticket on the great cruise ship in the sky.

It was an unusually warm day for the first day of March.
Spring was definitely on its way. It felt good to get outside for a change after being cooped up in the house all winter long. The seagulls had begun to return from their southern vacation—a trademark of the Jersey shore. The water lapping against the docks created a sound that I associated with peace and relaxation.

“This is good wine,” Bonnie said.

“It’s from a New Jersey winery. They are down south. But forget the wine for a second; did you get the job for sure?” I asked.

“Yup.
I’m starting on Monday!”

“Yay!
Our offices are right next to each other. It will be like old times.”

“Well, I hope not exactly like old times,” Bonnie said.

I knew what she meant. After that crazy resident shot her and held me hostage, we did not want to work in another place like that again. I decided against telling Bonnie about the note I found in the office. I didn’t want to scare her unnecessarily and I didn’t want her not to take the job since I had no evidence of anyone doing anything wrong.

“What did you think of Dingo?” I asked her.

“Let me just say that you couldn’t pay me enough money to smell his underwear.”

“
Eww
,” I said, making a face. “Why would you even think that?”

“Oh
, Chelsey, you are such a prude. It’s an expression. It means I didn’t like him very much. But I can deal with him.”

We continued to make small talk.
She filled me in about her daughters and I filled her in about my Mandy. As she started to ask me what happened with Kris, I saw someone out on the lagoon.

“Huh.
Look at that kayaker on the lagoon,” I said. “I would think it’s still a little too cold to kayak. I mean, what if you tipped? The water is still freezing this time of year.”

Bonnie squinted toward the figure in the kayak.
“I think he’s coming over here.”

I looked over.
“I don’t think so. I think he’s just paddling around.”

We kept talking and watching the kayaker.
He was paddling closer and closer.

“I’m telling you, he’s coming over here,” Bonnie said.

“Nah, maybe he’s the guy that lives a few houses down. He has a kayak.”

“He’s waving to us.”

I glanced over at the shadowy figure coming closer still and waving at us.

“Hi
, girls! Sorry I’m late,” the voice shouted from across the water.

“Oh crap,” I said.

“What? Do you know him? Who is that?”

“It’s Mike Nero, my stalker,” I told Bonnie.

“Stalker?” she asked.

Nero pulled his kayak up to my dock.
He was wearing a black wetsuit and had a swim mask on his head.

“What the
eff are you doing, Nero?” I asked.

“I wanted to see you,” he said, “a
nd since you wouldn’t give me your home phone number, I thought I’d stop by.”

“In a kayak?” Bonnie asked.

“Sure, why not? It’s more romantic that way,” Nero said.

“Romantic?” Bonnie asked, sounding disgusted. “It doesn’t seem to me like you have one ounce of an idea of what romance is.”

“I’m very romantic!” Nero declared, seemingly offended.

“Stalking someone by kayak isn’t romantic. It’s nuts,” Bonnie said.

“Seriously, Nero, you have to leave. I am busy and I don’t want you here,” I told him.

“Oh, come on.
I paddled all this way. My arms are killing me. The least you can do is give me something to drink,” he pleaded.

“Oh
, please, allow me,” Bonnie said as she walked to the other side of my yard. She grabbed my garden hose, pulled it over, and shot Nero with it before he could ask her what she was doing.

“Ah!”
Nero screamed like a little girl. “Knock it off, knock it off, you’re going to make me tip over.”

“Go home to your mommy, Nero,” Bonnie yelled.

“You are mean. That was not nice—squirting me with a cold hose.”

Bonnie shot him with the hose again.

“All right, all right,” he said. “I’m going, I’m going!”

“And don’t come back!” Bonnie shouted as Nero paddled away.

“So, were you going to tell me about this wacko?” Bonnie asked.

“Yeah, I was going to get around to it today,” I said.

I filled Bonnie in on the details of Nero and gave her a history on Babs while I was dishing out gossip about Coral Beach. I finally felt guilty enough to tell her about the note that I found from Vinny. I couldn’t let her start working at Coral Beach since there was a nagging feeling on my part that things were not on the up and up.

“Interesting” w
as the only word out of Bonnie’s mouth for a very long time. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally uttered, “You can tell that Nero guy’s brain is about as big as his genitalia.”

That’s my Bonnie,
I thought. “What were you doing looking at his genitalia?” I asked.

“Couldn’t help it. Not much was showing through that wet suit. I was trying to figure out if it was a man or a woman at first.”

I laughed. Then Bonnie turned serious. “Did you tell anyone about the note?”

“No. I haven’t told anyone.
I wasn’t sure if it was a joke or something.”

“Why didn’t you take it to the police?”

“Because I’ve only had the job for a week. I didn’t want to go around accusing people of something they didn’t do. I already have two bosses who don’t like me—Marc and Winifred.”

“Why don’t they like you?”

“I don’t know. I know Winifred voted no on my appointment and Marc has been a total jerk to me all week. And anyway, if it is true, then I don’t know who I can trust. If I go to the cops, and they are involved, then someone could easily kill me. I could end up like Vinny.”

“Oh my, you are so melodramatic.”

“So, you think I’m overreacting?”

“I would just say, don’t go jumping to so many conclusions.
You don’t know what any of this means. You don’t know that the cops are involved. You are making this a whole lot bigger than it needs to be.”

“Thanks for being so supportive,” I said sarcastically.

“Well, now that I’ll be working there, I can help you snoop around.”

“You still want to work there after hearing this?”

“Sure. I’m up for an adventure. Now, where do we start snooping?”

“I was thinking Joni—the girl that used to have your job.
I really want to know why she up and quit with no notice.”

“Get out your laptop.”

I got out the laptop and we searched for Joni Cabana, not having much luck. It looked like she fell off the face of the Earth. Bonnie picked up the phone and dialed her uncle, a retired police captain turned P.I., Alfred Auletta, or “Uncle Freddy” to Bonnie. He was able to locate an address for Joni in Philadelphia.

“Well, what are you doing tomorrow morning?” Bonnie asked.

“Looking for Joni, I guess,” I said.

We agreed to meet at seven in the morning
. Bonnie checked in with her husband, Jayce. He said he wasn’t on call for the hospital, which meant he would be home to watch all the kids while we went on our recon mission.

* * *

Sunday morning at seven a.m. felt awfully early. Since Joni was only twenty-five, I thought that early on a Sunday would be a good time to catch her. With any luck, she would be home, sleeping in after a night of partying. I picked up Bonnie and we took the Garden State Parkway to the Atlantic City Expressway. I filled Bonnie in on everything I knew so far and I swore her to secrecy. I didn’t know much, but there were the newspaper articles about Vinny’s death, the suspected mafia involvement, and the fact that I wondered if Vinny was somehow mixed up in this Village Pier thing.

“Good thing I’m packing,” Bonnie said.

“What? You’re packing? Do you mean you brought your gun with you?”