Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Surely he didn’t have her that fooled? Everyone knows who Jed Ford really is. That I share at least some DNA with the man is a badge of shame for me.
I stand to greet them, noting that since my office is already a small space, with the three of us, it’s downright claustrophobic.
“Hello, Oliver, Aunt Chrissy. Did we have a meeting this morning?” I know the answer—we definitely don’t, and my hackles are already up because this smacks of a surprise attack. I’m just not sure why. I don’t have a dog in the fight between Chrissy and Jed, other than to represent the city’s interest.
“No—” Oliver frowns, his eyes flicking to Aunt Chrissy as if to blame her for this interruption. “But we were hoping for a little of your time?”
Given that they’re already helping themselves to the chairs in front of my desk, they don’t care about my answer.
Oliver’s sitting tall and still, like a military-esque statue. He’s definitely tenser than usual.
“Of course.” I glance at my morning coffee that’s long since gone cold, wishing I’d chosen something other than my favorite coffee cup, a gift from Hazel, that reads I’M HOT, STICKY, AND SWEET with a cat dancing on a stripper pole. “What can I help with?”
“I’m going to take that no good, cheating jerk for every penny he’s got!” Chrissy bursts out as she yanks her sunglasses off to reveal perfectly made-up eyes that obviously haven’t shed a tear in days. “I’ve had to put up with him for years. His grumpiness—” That gets an overexaggerated scowl that bears an uncanny resemblance to Uncle Jed. “His expectations—” That earns double air quotes and a sneer. “And his grunting like a wild hog in rut when we . . . you know.” Thank goodness she doesn’t demonstrate that because there’s not enough eye bleach in the world for me to unsee it. “I’m done with all of it. He’s gonna get what’s coming to him.” Chrissy’s rant is surprising, not in content, but in volume. I’m sure people all up and down the hall can hear every word. “He’s not using what we built to take care of some home-wrecking baby-mama whore. I want it all.”
Holy shit. Aunt Chrissy has gone off the deep end. She’s usually the “seen and not heard” type, though I guess that’s maybe at Uncle Jed’s direction. If that’s the case, she’s definitely out from under his thumb now, ready to be loud and demanding. I’d applaud it normally, but Township muddies my “I am woman, hear me roar” mentality this time. Especially in city hall, in my office.
Oliver places a firm hand on Chrissy’s shoulder. “Remember what we talked about?” She settles, though I can see that she has loads more she wants to say. “Of course, her anger is understandable.” He directs that at me, justifying Chrissy’s tirade. “From a legal standpoint, we’re seeking a forensic accounting of Ford Construction so that Mrs. Ford can receive her fair share.”
“I’m not sharing anything! I want it all!”
Oliver takes a steadying breath, his eyes begging me for indulgence.
I take a deep breath myself. “This is going to be an issue for Cold Springs, isn’t it?”
That’s why they’re here. I can see the train barreling down the track, but I want to hear Oliver spell it out for me. Officially and straight from his mouth.
“We believe Jed is hiding personal funds that belong equally to Chrissy and him inside his corporate LLC accounts.”
I’m surprised Oliver is sharing that with me, but truth be told, I wouldn’t be shocked in the slightest to find out Jed’s doing exactly that. It’s the type of slimy, self-serving thing he’d come up with, and assume he could get away with regardless of its legality.
“Okay, and . . . ,” I lead.
Oliver looks at Chrissy, a question in his eyes. She nods once firmly, and he turns back to me. In clipped and unemotional tones, he tells me, “You’re aware that the Fords are prominent landowners in Cold Springs. Separating their assets is potentially going to be messier than we anticipated.”
Chrissy interrupts. “Yeah, Jed owns property all over Cold Springs. I mean . . . we own property.” As she says “we,” she presses a hand to her chest, clearly meaning she owns it, or plans to.
“What exactly does that mean?” My eyes jump from Chrissy to Oliver and back.
Oliver firmly sets Chrissy back in her chair and gives her a punishing glare. She answers with a huff but then seems to realize what she’s said and clamps her mouth shut. Interesting.
And terrifying.
This is my town, my home, and my responsibility in so many ways.
“What’s going on?” I demand.
Making a concerted effort to appear remorseful, Oliver reveals, “It means Township will need to be put on pause. No further building until we can account for every penny of the company’s money and this is settled.”