Maizie reached for the phone in the opposite corner from the computer monitor when something on the desk caught her eye. An open letter, paper clipped to its envelope, the golden letterhead glinting in a stream of sunlight. She recognized the name, Judge Charles Woodsmen, from Granny’s Green Acres phone bill. The nursing home tracked both incoming and outgoing calls for security reasons.
She hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, figuring the guy was humping for reelection votes or something. Was it just a coincidence he knew Gray? She scanned the letter.
Gray,
Enclosed are the papers and procedures we discussed for gaining guardianship of Ester Hood. I spoke with her over the phone and I don’t foresee a problem supporting an argument for mental incompetence, provided there are no family members to protest your filing. Should such a dispute arise, I will of course fully examine their argument. In the meantime, as you surmised, you will retain full control of the holdings. All sales and transfers undertaken during this time will not be easily overturned. I hope this information is of use to you.
I look forward to our game on Sunday. I’ve got a new seven-iron I’m dying to try out.
Sincerely,
Chuck
Judge Charles Woodsmen
District Judge
Pittsburgh County Courts
Maizie couldn’t breathe. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her ears. She’d been right all along. Gray was after Granny’s land.
“What’s this?” Anthony Cadwick took the stack of papers from Gray, glancing every few minutes back to the crowd of reporters milling around the spot of his soon-to-be riverside restaurant.
“A copy of an amendment from the township zoning board, stating that the sale of property will be kept to a two-acre maximum for residential, eight acres for commercial. Passed at last night’s meeting. Unanimously.”
Cadwick pinched his fat cigar between his fingers and yanked it from his mouth. His gaze slid to Gray, brows tight. “Ya don’t say. When’s this get filed?”
“Monday.” Gray loved the smell of defeat in the afternoon. “Goes into effect in sixty days.”
Cadwick grunted, scanning the papers. “That’s fast.”
“People want to keep a lid on growth. Keep the community quaint. Rural.” Of course they didn’t realize they wanted to control growth until Gray had pointed it out to them. Once he told them about Cadwick’s plans for superstores and parking lots, his battle had been won.
“Buncha tree huggers like you. No wonder you like it there.” He shoved the papers back at Gray, crumpling them into his chest.
Gray rolled the documents then held them in his hand at his side, the other hand slipped into the front pocket of his slacks. Cadwick’s sore-loser display only made the victory all the sweeter. “Glide’s a quiet town. Good people. I’ve made friends.” Several of them sitting on the zoning board. “Yeah, I like it there.”
Cadwick shoved his cigar back between his teeth and turned to stare at the reporters hammering his PR man with questions. “Look at ’em. Wettin’ their panties about my riverboat casino. Not one question about the restaurant or the twenty other businesses that’ll benefit from the boat docking here.”
Cadwick made his voice high, mocking. “How’s Mr. Cadwick gonna have a riverboat casino when the state won’t pass the gambling laws?” He snorted. “Idiots. Always two steps behind. Do I look like a man who doesn’t consider every contingency? Do they think I got to where I am-that I built my business-by being stupid?”
He turned to Gray, pinching the cigar out of his mouth again. His eyes narrowed, a telling grin pulling the corner of his mouth. “What about you, Lupo? Do you think I got to where I am without thinking ahead? Without planning for state laws, politicians and township zoning boards?”
Gray’s jaw tightened, his fist squeezing the worthless documents. He’d been afraid of this. Cadwick must’ve gotten Granny to sign. It’s the only way he could have beaten the system, had the sale grandfathered in. Damn it, when had he done it? Gray had checked on her yesterday.
Cadwick wouldn’t be able to resell the land, but that wouldn’t stop him from developing it himself. Even if Gray could close the loophole, it’d be too late. His beast roared inside his head, angry, frustrated. But he kept his face an empty mask. He wouldn’t give Cadwick the satisfaction.
Cadwick laughed, chewed on the end of his cigar. “Just like old times, huh, Lupo? You always took a little too long to figure things out. Hell, even Donna got tired of waiting around for you to realize you were losing her. Though, God knows why she was with you to begin with. You didn’t deserve her.”
His expression sobered, Cadwick gazed out over the river. “If she had belonged to me, she’d have never gotten away.”
Tension rippled along Gray’s back, pulled his muscles into a tight knot. His hands fisted so hard he knew there’d be half moons in his palms from his nails. Cadwick had guts talking to him about Donna. Even after all these years. Did he think Gray didn’t know?
A low growl rumbled in his chest. He couldn’t help it. When he spoke the deep resonance made his voice sound deadly. “My wife was never something to be possessed or kept. Maybe if we…if I had remembered that, she’d still be around. She wouldn’t have gone away.”
Chapter Fourteen
“What’d he say when you asked him about the letter?”
Maizie shrugged. “I didn’t ask. I just left.”
Cherri sprinkled the final bit of flour into the churning mixer. “’Course not. Why give Mr. Tall-dark-and-wonderful the opportunity to explain? I mean, he’s pretty much perfect. Gorgeous, smart, rich, romantic. Gorgeous-”
“You said gorgeous twice.”
Cherri looked at her. “Yeah. I know.”
Maizie rolled her eyes. “No one’s perfect.”
“He does a pretty good imitation.”
The smell of licorice tickled Maizie’s nose. “Too much anise,” she said with a nod to the mixer.
“You haven’t even tasted it.”
“Trust me.” She hadn’t told Cherri about Mr. Wonderful’s other attributes, like his ability to turn women into sex-crazed werewolves who could smell anise and creamed panties at a hundred yards-among other things.
Granted, he wasn’t the one who’d turned her, but still, she didn’t want to hear Cherri come up with any more excuses for the man. She’d tell her eventually. Probably.
“I just can’t believe I was right all along. I let my hormones get in the way of my brain. Dammit.” She thrashed a rubber spatula through the bowl of butter-cream icing she held, taking out her frustration. “And poor Granny. How am I going to break this to her?”
“She really likes him, huh?” Cherri dipped a spoon in the cookie batter and cringed when she tasted it.
“She adores Gray. It’ll crush her when she finds out he was just being nice to get her land.”
“I’m surprised how well you’re taking it.” Cherri added more flour and sugar to the batter. “I mean if I thought the love of my life was just using me to nail a real-estate deal I’d bawl my eyes out.”
Maizie didn’t mention she’d cried the whole way back through the forest from Gray’s house and more than half the drive in from the cottage. She felt as though it was a piece of her heart he’d conspired to steal away with those papers, not just her grandmother’s land. Except Granny still had her land, Maizie couldn’t say as much for her heart.