Homecoming (24 page)

Federica listened to the formal opening of proceedings as if hearing the words from a great distance. Her heart was thudding painfully in her chest though she knew her face betrayed no emotion whatsoever. Russell, on the other hand, was almost quivering beside her. His fingers drummed loudly on the table, irritating her.

Russell had handed her a sealed envelope from Paul Cobb with the negotiating parameters. Its contents lay before her, next to the yellow legal pad where she was idly scribbling, pretending to take notes because she couldn’t bear to look at Jack and Lilly and Wyatt.

The sealed envelope’s instructions bore the distinct imprint of Uncle Frederick’s business tactics. Mansion Enterprises was going to play hardball. Good thing Uncle Frederick was away in Prague, because Federica had every intention of negotiating the best possible deal for her friends.

Former friends.

I don’t want to be here
, she wrote in shorthand, certain that Russell wouldn’t be able to read it. Russell would have considered learning shorthand beneath him.

She let her gaze wander over to the public area, filling up with Carson’s Bluffers, people she had exchanged friendly words with, people who had smiled at her and wished her good day. Horace Milton sat squarely in the front row, glaring unblinkingly at her. He had his battered black beret on and sat with gnarled hands clenched on the top of his walking cane, chomping angrily on an unlit cigar.

On the Mansion Enterprises side, Ellen and Newton sat alone and isolated.

“Let the record further show that pursuant to state law, the following documents have been entered into the public record…” Jack’s voice droned on and Federica tried not to think of the sweet, exciting things that voice had whispered in her ear.

Looking at him hurt.

I want to be somewhere else
, she wrote on her legal pad
. The Caribbean maybe, on a beach, lying in the sun and thinking of nothing at all…

“…document 4035, the deed authorizing myself, John Augustus Sutter, in my capacity as mayor, to act on behalf of the township of Carson’s Bluff…”

Maybe not a Caribbean island. My skin doesn’t take the sun very well…

“…document 4036, the tax records for the past twenty years of Lot 448…”

I want to be in a big, green meadow somewhere up in the mountains with clean air and a view down to the valley below.

“…and document 4037, the surveyor’s assessment of Lot 448.”

I know where I want to be,
she wrote.
I want to be at the Folly
.

Something in the quality of the silence penetrated her mind and she looked up to find everyone looking at her expectantly.

She leaned forward to the microphone in front of her. “Everything is in order, Mayor Sutter, thank you.” The amplification system made her voice sound dead. Almost as dead as she felt. “You may proceed.”

Jack leaned back and looked her full in the face. His own face was expressionless, but the skin was pulled tautly over his cheekbones, making them stand out clearly. His eyes were flat. He stared at her for a long moment, his jaw muscles working, then leaned forward again.

“After due deliberation with my fellow members of the Town Council, we have decided that Lot 448 is not for sale.” He picked up the gavel. “And I hereby declare this meeting adjourned.”

Oh Jack
, Federica thought sadly. She knew what was written in her instructions.
You need legal counsel.

“I’m afraid it is not as simple as that, Mr. Mayor.” Federica’s soft voice echoed in the speakers around the room. Jack put his gavel down. “I refer you to California property law 4478, subsection 5-C.” Jack, Lilly and Wyatt looked at each other in confusion, clearly not understanding what was about to happen. “Lot 448 has an outstanding tax debt of over $100,000.” Federica thumbed unnecessarily through her documentation, which she knew by heart. She hated what she was going to have to say. “$127,500 to be exact. This means that Lot 448 is legally ‘onerous property’ and therefore for sale to the highest bidder starting at double the amount. I have here a cashier’s check for $255,000, which would make the property ours unless the township of Carson’s Bluff can come up with an amount that would cover the tax burden within twenty days of notification of intent to purchase.”

An angry buzz grew from the Carson’s Bluff side of the aisle and Jack rapped sharply twice with his gavel and waited for everyone to quiet down.

“I’m afraid, Miss Mansion,” he said, his voice bitter, “that we’re not a rich community. The amount you mentioned is more than our annual budget for the day care center and the women’s clinic combined and I’ll be damned…er, I refuse to close those two centers down for some mega-corporation’s greed.”

Russell stopped drumming his fingers, and started jiggling his leg, bumping his knee against the table. For a moment, Federica contemplated taking a chain saw and chopping his leg off at the knee joint, then was ashamed of herself. It must be the stress. She was not by nature a violent person. She took a deep breath.

“Mansion Enterprises has no desire to see town services shut down, Mr. Mayor. It has always been our policy to live in amity with the communities in which we run our businesses. Mansion Enterprises has always been a very civic-minded organization.” Out of the corner of her eye, Federica could see Russell gaping at her in surprise at her description of their company. She slowly unfolded once more her instructions and reread the amount written there. The top offer she was empowered to make was three million dollars, though the Folly was easily worth double that amount. “We could take the Town Council to court, but that would entail legal fees and time and ill feeling, which we have no desire to incur. And that is why we put forward our offer to buy Lot 448 for the amount of…four million dollars.” Russell opened his mouth in protest and Federica kicked him sharply in the shins.

So much for non-violence.

A million dollars was the least she could pay Carson’s Bluff for what it had given her. Uncle Frederick be damned.

“You can’t do that,” Russell whispered, scandalized. “That’s well over the amount—”

Federica held a finger to her lips and leaned close into him. “New orders,” she mouthed.

Jack had covered his microphone with his hand and was consulting with Wyatt and Lilly. Finally, he removed his hand. “I’m sorry, Miss Mansion. But we reject the offer.”

Jack,
she thought in despair.
Don’t make me do this
.

She shouldn’t wish for an earthquake to open up the earth and swallow her whole. Carson’s Bluff was perilously near the San Andreas Fault and that kind of thinking was dangerous. So…maybe a
little
earthquake. Just a few square feet. Just enough to let her disappear. Now.

Her hand trembled as she drew the microphone nearer.

“To my regret, I must contradict you once more, Mr. Mayor. If you choose to reject Mansion Enterprises’ very generous offer, then I’m afraid we have no choice but to take legal recourse. And the first step in that process, Mr. Mayor, is to recuse the Town Council and to sue its representative, in the person of yourself, for nonfeasance in the best instance and in the worst for mal—mal…” The word wouldn’t come and Federica put her hand over the microphone and bowed her head for an instant.

Russell impatiently batted her hand away from the microphone and leaned forward. “You’ll be sued for malfeasance, Mr. Mayor,” he said harshly, his voice echoing from the loudspeakers.

There was a stunned silence. Then pandemonium broke out amongst the spectators.

Jack’s gavel went wild.

“Order!” he shouted. “Order! Or I’ll have everyone thrown out. Just see if I don’t.” He turned back to Federica and Russell and his eyes were bleak. “I think this is an appropriate moment to take a break. We will reconvene in an hour’s time.” He banged his gavel sharply again and stood up.

“Nice park, isn’t it?” Federica asked Russell as they walked around the Square.

They had an hour to kill, but going for a cup of coffee at Stella’s was out of the question. Most of Carson’s Bluff would be there and Federica couldn’t bear walking in and seeing everyone look at her with hostility. It seemed as if she had spent a lifetime absorbing hostility toward Mansion Enterprises, instead of just eight years.

“Not bad,” Russell said absently.

There was a time when Federica had mistaken Russell’s silences for reticence. By the time she had found out his reserve wasn’t shyness but a self-centeredness so monumental he was barely aware of the existence of other human beings, it was too late. They had their affair, she had been dumped and she had wasted perfectly good emotions on the jerk.

Russell had cleaned up a bit in the room he had taken at Stella’s. He was clean-shaven and had changed his clothes and looked a little more like his usual handsome self. Federica looked at him as they walked through the Square and mentally compared him to Jack, though it was ludicrous comparing them. The two men might as well have come from different planets.

Federica wondered how she could ever have felt something for Russell. Nothing remained, not even a twinge.

“Do you think we can wrap the whole thing up by this afternoon and leave tonight?” he asked.

“Ah—I’m not too sure,” Federica hedged. “Does it make that much difference whether it’s today or tomorrow?”

Russell beat an impatient tattoo against his thigh with his fist. He blew out his breath in a gust. “I can’t wait to get out of this burg. I hate small towns.”

Federica was silent, thinking of what awaited her. The long drive down to San Francisco, the usual debriefing, leaving the next day for New York, then London…or was it Hamburg? She didn’t remember. Not that it mattered. Wherever it was, it wasn’t Carson’s Bluff.

She took in a long, deep breath, trying to steady her nerves and smelled something…odd. She looked around, wondering what the source of the smell could be.

“Is that a Rachel Douglas?” Russell asked as they turned a corner.

“What? Oh, yes. Yes it is.”

“It’s wasted in this park.” Russell stood looking at the sculpture, considering. In addition to the tic, he had taken to fondling his tie. Federica seriously thought about strangling him with it, then realized that she was taking her own frustrations out on Russell. Poor Russell, who reported directly to Uncle Frederick and who was evidently under so much pressure he twitched.

A lot of people under Uncle Frederick twitched.

“It should be up at the property.”

Federica blinked. “Excuse me?”

“That’s a nice piece of sculpture.” Russell nodded at the miracle of lightness and grace before them. “It would look good on that area right in front of the Folly. I’ve seen photographs of the place and that sculpture would be very impressive on the front lawn, once we’ve landscaped it. We could design the carport to go behind it.”

“You know, Russell, I don’t think you can do that,” Federica said cautiously. “My understanding is that this sculpture is a donation by Rachel Douglas herself to the town. I don’t think you can just…appropriate it and set it up on private property.”

Russell gave her a contemptuous look. “Of course we can.” He snorted. “This time next year that rube will be out as mayor and one of our people will be in. We’ll be able to do whatever we want.” He walked on. “Another thing…”

That smell. What was it?

“What Russell?”

He looked around. “The flower beds. They’re all over the place. These hicks can’t even plant straight. We’ve got to get our landscaping people out here right away.”

The smell of…incense. Of books.

Russell pulled up short. “I can’t believe it,” he breathed. “Will you look at that?” He waved his hand in disgust at the far corner of the Square. “Those are
tomato plants
.”

Federica smiled. “Why, so they are.” Neat rows of tomato vines grew on an orderly plot. Judging from the profusion of small green knobs, Mr. Giannini was going to have a bumper crop come fall, just like Lilly had said.

“This is ridiculous,” Russell said in disgust. “A tomato patch in a public park.”

Incense, books, Don’s gentle voice.

“I can’t believe these people.” Russell crossed his arms and surveyed the Square with disfavor. “What clodhoppers!”

Your heart knows where it’s going, even if your head doesn’t.

The world seemed to do a slow kaleidoscopic dance around her, shifting things so that what had been hidden was now revealed.

Follow your heart, Federica. Follow your heart.

“These people shouldn’t be let out on a leash.” Russell’s chiseled mouth turned down at the corners in a sneer. “Good thing we’re going to take over. That’s the kind of thing that’s going to have to go.”

Oh, no Russell
, Federica thought suddenly.
You’re the kind of thing that’s going to have to go.

It was a crazy plan, dangerous too, and the timing was very, very tight. If it failed… Federica couldn’t even think of the consequences if the plan failed.

For a moment, she had a pang of conscience about Russell, whose career might suffer if her plan was successful.