Page 9 of Demo
Soon, Janice and Jared appeared at our table, fondling each other like a couple of horny teenagers, and said they were ready to leave—for obvious reasons. While I drove myself to the bar, the three of them rode together in Knox’s Dodge RAM.
Before Knox settled our tab, Janice and Jared decided to head out and go at it in his truck. They were making out in there as Knox and I stood outside, leaning our backs against the side of the truck, standing shoulder to shoulder as it rocked back and forth.
We eventually said goodbye. No hug. No handshake. He looked so awkward as he shoved one hand through his hair and dug the other in the front pocket of his jeans to fish out his keys and then slunk into the driver’s seat of his car.
Then he looked at me with those hazel eyes, and I could see something behind them as he obviously raked his eyes up and down my skinny jeans and V-neck deep-blue shirt.
He didn’t drive out of the parking lot until I had gotten into my car, started it, and pulled out first. I was conflicted as I drove away because I couldn’t place the feelings I was having.
And if you had told me my night with Knox wasn’t yet over, I would have never believed you.
Chapter 5
LYZBETH
WhenIentertheoffice, I’m pleased to find Dee is actually doing work, so she can’t distract me. George must be out on assignment, along with Monty, which leaves only me and Zack, who is on the phone.
My desk is its usual organized chaos, with different projects I’ve been working on stacked in little piles that sort of crisscross in sections. The little red light on my phone isn’t blinking, which means no voice messages. That is both a good and bad thing—good, because as a general statement, messages are bad. They are usually left by angry readers or sources who deny everything.
Bad because nobody ever calls a reporter back. Ever.
I shake the mouse and wake my computer to check my email. As always, about 60 percent of it is unimportant.
“Ahem.”
My attention is drawn away from my computer by my editor, standing tall and well put-together in her black slacks and blue cardigan, with her hair twisted into a knot at the back of her head. I tell myself I am equally professional, albeit in my black jeans and flats, and button-up maroon collared shirt. My hair is pin-straight and sleek today.
“So, find anything out about the Clinton property?” Cherice folds her arms across her chest and leans against the cubicle wall.
“Yes, actually …” I pull my notebook out and give her a rundown of the details. “OK, let’s see … The property is owned by a Mr. Cartwright, who also owns the building where DSS is located, and that Visiting Nurses Association. The one up on—”
“The one with the big parking garage?”
“Right. That one. The developer for the project is Gerard Lawler from an architectural firm that focuses on ‘green’ buildings. The deal is, it seems, that as the property stands now, as an inactive parcel, the property owner is paying about $30,000 a year in property taxes. If this Lawler were to develop the property the city would then bring in about $300,000 a year in property taxes. However, as an incentive to the developer to invest the start-up costs, which will likely exceed $2 million to gut and reconstruct the building, the city has cut a deal with the parties involved that it will only collect half of the taxes the first three years, figuring it will still be bringing in $120,000 more in taxes those three years, anyway.”
Cherice ponders this for a moment. “But isn’t that incentive offered for any property? Any business?” she asks.
“Yes, it’s a fairly common practice to offer incentives to attract developers and businesses to the city. However, in a separate department over at good old City Hall, a place we like to call the Finance Department, I was able to secure a list of public donors who have funded the mayor’s campaigning throughout the years, and whose name is on the top of the list with a big fat $500,000 total next to it?”
“Let me guess. Mr. Lawler.”
“Bingo. It seems since he’s been giving our good buddy Cal Denison money to keep his seat in the mayor’s office, he got a break on the building project. Also, it doesn’t hurt he’ll have the support of the entire police department once he secures them a new building.”
Cherice stands up straight and places her hands on her hips. “Dig deeper,” she says.
Huh?
“Um … What?”
“There’s got to be more to it. Don’t get me wrong, what you’ve found out is a great start. It’s just not all that interesting, or incriminating.”
“Okaaaay.” I feel a little deflated.
“Don’t take offense. I know you can get more.”
***
After a long-ass day, I find a parking spot almost right in front of the apartment building. It’s going on nine o’clock, and I’m exhausted.
