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Authors: Paul Robertson

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Road to Nowhere (19 page)

BOOK: Road to Nowhere
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“When it comes to Gold River Highway, those two are the same. Now, I’m saying Joe Esterhouse and Wade Harris are for it, you’re against it, Eliza Gulotsky always votes no, and Louise is trying to decide.”

“I don’t know,” Randy said.

“But you don’t say I’m wrong on any of those?”

“I don’t say anything.”

“Then I’ll quote an unnamed board member, and everyone will know it’s you.”

“Why don’t you just ask each of us?”

“That’s work, and I already know what they’ll say.”

“Then why are you asking me?”

“So I can quote you.”

“Then talk to Wade Harris, so you can quote him.”

“I am, actually. When he’s in town next Monday. And he gives me better quotes than you. Now I’ve thought of another question.”

“Good gravy, Luke. Why don’t you just make up your answer to it?”

“I can’t for this one. Who owns the land on the mountain where they’d build the road? Over on the other side, it’s all Gold Valley Development land, but what about on the Wardsville side?”

“I don’t know. Do you know?”

“If I did, why would I ask you?”

“So you can misquote my answer,” Randy said. “I’m trying to think. Whoever does is going to make some money selling it to the state.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Who’d have thought that old mountainside would be worth anything?”

“That’s the thing about owning land.”

“I wish I owned some,” Luke said. “Just what family you’re born into, I guess.”

But just then there was a clatter in the hall. Patsy had her things to leave, but she backed into a corner to make room for whoever, or whatever, was coming, and Luke finally stood up from the desk.

Kyle came bouncing in as eager as a puppy.

“Dad?”

“Right here, son.” Sue Ann must have told him that he’d be here in the courthouse.

“Mrs. Clark, Mr. Goddard.” The boy nodded to the other adults, polite as his mother had taught him to be. “Dad!”

“What’s after you?”

“Coach put up the list for varsity football.” The boy dropped onto Patsy’s chair, but he was leaning so far forward he was hardly touching it. “I’m quarterback.”

“Well, sure you are.” Randy felt a big smile spreading across his own face to match Kyle’s. “Starting?”

“Yes, sir. Starting quarterback.”

“Congratulations, Kyle.” Randy took hold of Kyle’s hand and shook it. “What I would have given to say that to my dad. But you deserve it.”

“Practice starts in May. And Coach wants seniors for weight training all summer.”

“You’ve got some hard work ahead of you, Kyle. I am so proud of you.”

And at that point, a handshake just wasn’t the right thing, and he stood up, and Kyle did, too, four inches taller than his daddy, and Randy gave him the biggest hug he could.

There was a bright flash, and they both looked around to see Luke and his camera both smiling at them.

April 30, Sunday

Sweet sunset. Wade finally had a minute’s pause, just in time to appreciate it. He’d take a picture, but how many sunset pictures could one person use?

Corny was coming out from the back office. “I took a call,” she said. “Somebody from last month, wanting a second look.”

“It’s a busy week.”

“He wanted Monday evening, tomorrow. It’s the night of your board meeting, but I think it’ll be early enough that you can fit it in.”

“Uh—okay. Whatever. I’m going in to Wardsville for the afternoon, and I was going to meet Joe before the meeting. I’ll figure it out. I’ll just catch Joe afterwards.”

“And I’m out of here,” she said. “I’m thinking stir-fry.”

“Whatever’s easy. I’ll be about an hour.”

“See you at home.”

Off she drove, into the sunset, and Wade settled into his chair. Paper, paper. No job was finished until the paper work was done.

The front door opened.

It was kind of late on a Sunday for a customer, but anything could happen in April. Wade started out to the main room.

Oh boy. This was going to be a disaster.

“Dr. Colony,” he said. “Welcome to Gold Valley.”

“Thank you.”

Calm words, the first Wade had heard from that mouth. Maybe they were going to be adults for the evening.

“I guess you’re not here to look at houses,” Wade said. “But I’d be glad to talk.” He waited. “I’d be glad to try to find some common ground.”

“I don’t think there is any.” Colony had a big bulging thick manila envelope in his hand. “Not here. I want to make you an offer.”

“Okay. Come on back to my office.”

They abandoned the big room. Wade offered a chair to his guest and then sat himself. Then they were facing each other, and Wade waited.

“You moved here to sell these houses,” Colony said. “You aren’t from here. I don’t think you even like it here.”

“It hasn’t been real welcoming.”

“Why don’t you move back to Raleigh?”

That was a question that could mean a lot of different things. From the way he said it, Wade couldn’t tell which.

“My job is here,” he said.

“There must be other jobs back there.” Colony set the envelope on Wade’s desk. “This place doesn’t mean anything to you. You don’t care what happens except to make money. Well, here’s money.”

Wade stared at the envelope. “What are you saying, Dr. Colony?”

“Look at it.”

Wade picked up the envelope and looked inside. Lots of hundred-dollars bills, bound neatly in bank wrappers.

“It’s fifty thousand,” Colony said. “If you’ll leave, or resign, or anything, but just kill that road, then you can have it.”

“It’s worth that much to you?”

“It’s worth that much.”

“I think I’ll have to say no.”

Everett Colony started to blow his top. But he held back.

“Why? Isn’t it enough?”

“It’s a lot.” Wade had to give him points for generosity. “It’s better than the going rate. But I’d make more than that selling houses if the road gets built.”

“Then how much?”

Wade shook his head. “That’s not it. I’d have to trust you, and you’d have to trust me. Not just now, but for a long time. That’s how these deals work.”

“It’s cash. There’s no record.”

“It might be marked. You might have the serial numbers recorded.

There’ll be a record of you withdrawing it from your bank. See, Dr. Colony, you’re an amateur at this stuff. That’s enough of a reason to turn you down.”

“Then how should I do it?”

“Don’t.” Now he was feeling sorry for the guy. It had taken a lot of guts for him to get this far. “I’d get fired anyway.”

Except that he’d already quit. That was where it got complicated. Why not take the money? He could use it, and Colony was taking the bigger risk.

“Besides,” he said, “that still might not kill the road.”

“I think it would.”

Wade pushed the envelope back. “Thanks anyway. But keep it.”

The envelope was snatched and the chair shoved back and then the front door was slammed. And Wade was alone with his thoughts.

May

May 1, Monday

Time to start—already! Poor Byron, left there at the dinner table alone with just a heated up noodle casserole, of all things. That was
not
going to be enough of a supper.

Joe knocked his little wood hammer on the counter.

And she hadn’t even left him any green beans or . . . or even a glass of milk! They were still in the refrigerator.

“Come to order.”

Well, Louise was trying to come to order. But she couldn’t get that picture of Byron out of her head.

“Go ahead, Patsy.”

“Mrs. Brown?”

The man was just going to have to survive on his own. “Here,” she said, and tried to pay attention.

“Mr. Esterhouse?”

“Here.”

“Eliza?”

“I am here.”

“Mr. Harris?”

It took a moment before Louise realized something wasn’t right. Well, Wade hadn’t answered! What with worrying about Byron, she hadn’t even had a chance to look around the room. His chair between Joe and Eliza was empty.

“Mr. McCoy?”

“I’m here.”

“Four present, Joe,” Patsy said. “Mr. Harris is absent.”

“Thank you, Patsy. That’s a quorum. Jefferson County North Carolina Board of Supervisors is now in session.”

“Do we know where he is?” Louise asked.

“I was expecting him,” Joe said. “Did he talk to you, Patsy?”

“No, Joe.”

“He’s probably running late,” Louise said.

And now she’d had a chance to notice the crowd in the first rows of chairs. “Or maybe you all have scared him off,” she said. It must have been half of Mountain View sitting out there. That meant it was looking like a long meeting tonight, and Luke Goddard was even awake. Well, at least Everett Colony wasn’t in the room.

Someday she’d put a mirror up on that sheet of plywood over Luke’s chair so she could read in it what he was writing.

Steve Carter was there, and maybe one or two others who looked like they were from Gold Valley.

“Motion to accept last month’s minutes?” Joe was all business.

“I’ll move that we accept last month’s minutes,” Louise said. It was going to have to be her and Randy, with Wade gone and Eliza never voting for anything and Joe was chairman and couldn’t move or second.

“I’ll second that,” Randy said.

“Motion and second,” he said. “Any discussion? Point of order, with only four members voting, it still takes three votes to be a majority to pass a motion. Go ahead, Patsy.”

Louise still couldn’t think where Wade might be.

“Three in favor, one opposed,” Patsy said.

“Motion carries,” Joe said. “Minutes are accepted. Next is receiving public comment. Looks like we’ll have some this evening. Please state your name and address.”

Well, Joe was right about that. She’d been on this board eight years and there’d been hot tempers before, but there’d never been anything like this road. Why, most of these people had never set a foot into a Board of Supervisors meeting, and now look—more than half the room full.

There was a little looking around while people were deciding if they’d be first. Then Fred Clairmont got to his feet. Louise only knew him through his wife, Lynn, but she did know they lived in Mountain View.

“Fred Clairmont. 715 Washington Street, in Wardsville. I know there’s been a lot of comments on Gold River Highway and Hemlock Street. I just want to make sure all of you know just how much all of us are against that road. There might be reasons for building it, but I don’t think any of them are worth the damage that thing will do to the Mountain View neighborhood.”

And just at that second, the door slammed open and Everett Colony barged right in.

“I guess I’ve said all I wanted.” Fred said to Everett.

“Well, I’ve got quite a lot more to say,” Everett said and pushed past and set himself right at the podium. Most of Louise’s thoughts of Byron had gotten pushed away, too. It was time to be listening now.

“You know what we’ve got to say,” Dr. Colony said, and not in a good humor. “First I want to say that I don’t understand why this road is still being considered—”

“Excuse me,” Joe said. “You’ll need to state your name and address.”

“You know who I am!”

“Required by law,” Joe said. “Otherwise you’ll need to step down.”

“This is ridiculous! Oh, all right. Everett Colony, 712 Hemlock, Wardsville. We’re all here tonight to show you that we’re not putting up with you or anyone forcing this road through our neighborhood.”

He kept on from there, and Joe let him go past five minutes. Watching him reminded Louise for all the world of one of the five-year-olds in church throwing a temper tantrum. He didn’t say a single thing he hadn’t said before, and he didn’t leave out a single thing he had said before.

But he finally sat down. While all his neighbors were just starting to see who would come up next, a man in the back row got right up and beat everyone else to the podium.

The whole front row of Mountain View folks saw him coming, and they started whispering and frowning.

“Good evening. My name is James Ross and I live at 4500 Eagle’s Rest Drive in Gold Valley. I want to comment on Gold River Highway.” He looked like a Gold Valley person, too, with his bright sweater and tan pants and loafers. There probably wasn’t a sweater that color of green in all of Wardsville. “Frankly, I’m surprised at what I’ve heard here tonight. When I heard that the highway had been funded, I was thinking it would be automatic that the board here would vote to approve it. It’s been on the plans forever. I bought my house in Gold Valley partly because I understood that the highway would be built when the funding came through. It had never occurred to me there’d be any reason for it not to be.”

Mr. Ross leaned forward, toward the board, leaning on the podium a little and smiling a little.

“I looked through the plans. There’s some interesting wording there. Those plans aren’t just a daydream. They’re published so developers and planners know what to expect.”

There was something about the way he was talking. Louise couldn’t take her eyes off of him.

“And of course, this board has approved all the Gold Valley subdivisions. Gold River Highway is a big part of those plans.”

In fact, she was hardly breathing.

“I would consider the plans a type of legal commitment, in fact.”

Mr. Ross had paused. Nobody was breathing.

“And if the board didn’t carry out its responsibility in that commitment, legal action might be appropriate.”

He was staring right into her eyes. She couldn’t even move.

“He’s a lawyer!”

She was startled. Everett Colony had jumped up and was pointing at the podium.

“He’s a lawyer and he’s trying to threaten you! Don’t listen to him.”

Joe Esterhouse hadn’t moved, but now he tapped his hammer. “Mr. Ross is entitled to his comments.”

“What was that first name again?” It was Luke.

“Let me be clear that there are to be no further interruptions from the audience,” Joe said.

“Joe?” Louise said, once everyone had settled down. “Is that right?” A lawsuit sounded serious. “Can people sue us if we don’t go by the plan?”

Joe shook his head. “Transportation planning and implementation is government policy, and policy is set by due process of government action. That’s the law in North Carolina, and government action would be this board voting.”

BOOK: Road to Nowhere
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