Road to Nowhere (11 page)

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Authors: Paul Robertson

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BOOK: Road to Nowhere
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“I’ll tell Patsy at the courthouse to call your office with that this morning.”

Marty waited a minute to answer. “Joe. When Daddy was vice mayor in Asheville and I was running for state assembly the first time, he gave me a few pieces of advice.”

“I knew your daddy real well, Marty. I expect his advice was worth hearing.”

“It was and it’s sure come in handy. And one thing he told me was to keep an eye on you.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” Joe allowed himself a smile.

“He did. He said if I ever heard from you, I should pay close attention and do as I was told.”

“That’s been twenty years ago.”

“Yes, it was, and you and I have talked fairly often over these twenty years. But I think this is one time that Daddy’s advice might especially apply, at least that I should pay close attention. Because I don’t think you’d call me about a simple road grant unless something wasn’t so simple.”

Marty was a smart boy, just like his father. “I’d be glad to hear that there’s nothing to it, but I’m doubting that’s what you’ll find. I do appreciate your time, Marty. Just when you get around to it.”

“I’ll call you back, Joe.”

Rose was watching him in the doorway, holding her laundry basket. “Decided you can still make a difference,” she said.

“I suppose.”

“Little Joey called you a godly man, in front of all those people.”

“People can think what they want.”

“I think he’s right.”

“Meredith can’t come rafting?” Wade said. First hint of warm weather, and there’d been five walk-ins. Nice to have a busy day, finally, and nice to get home after it.

“She will be working on a class project.” Cornelia looked real comfortable in the recliner. “And Lauren is going to a concert in Charlotte.”

Take off the coat. “So who cares about good old Dad anymore. Just as long as he pays the bills.”

“They are both very sorry. Lauren offered to stay home.”

Hang up the coat. “No.” Toss the briefcase into the computer room. “It’s okay.” Drop into the chair. “I don’t mind.”

“They would love to spend time with you. They are both feeling guilty and despicable. Meredith wanted to talk to you herself, and Lauren was almost crying.”

“Okay, okay!” Women. He was outnumbered three to one in his own family. “If I give them each a new car, would that make them feel better?”

Corny smiled. “Maybe. I’d need one, too.”

“Hey, and what am I supposed to do with this rafting trip? I already paid for it.”

“Can’t you cancel?”

“I’d lose my deposit.” Nothing was ever easy. “For Pete’s sake. You know anybody to go rafting with? Or should I just give the trip to somebody?”

“Well—there must be somebody. Do you have any clients?”

“Not that I’d want to spend a day with.” And then, a strange idea. “Hey, wait. You want to try something different? Randy McCoy. From the board. And his wife, what’s-her-name. Sue. Sue Ellen. Sue Ann.”

“Us? And them? Together? Do you want to?”

“Not hardly. But maybe I could shmooze him into voting for the road. Hey, I’ll think about it. There must be someone we know.”

March 13, Monday

The secretary walked the two steps over to the office door where Roland Coates was sitting plain as day, as short and round and bald and shiny as to make a person think of a bowling ball, and as visible to Randy as Randy was to him.

“Mr. McCoy is here,” she said.

“Come in, Randy,” the man himself said, and Randy did.

It was true that Randy saw Roland Coates once a week at church, where they would say hello and mention the weather, and they lived just two blocks apart. They only had an actual conversation once a year, though, when they negotiated Roland’s insurance contract.

It was not Randy’s favorite annual event. He always worked out the very best offer he could make and then added just a whisker onto it so he’d have something to give up.

Randy felt confident enough to ask him a question as they got started.

“Now, Mr. Coates, what’s this we all hear about you selling the factory?”

Well, that struck a nerve, and he’d known it would as it really was about Jeremy. But the gentleman took the comment in stride.

“I got a good offer. Not as much as it’s worth, but as much as I could expect.”

“When might that happen? I’m only asking so I’d know the term of this year’s insurance contract.”

“Not for a while. There are still a few details to iron out. If there’s time left on the contract, I’ll have you give me a refund.”

With that they settled down to their routine. The furniture factory was really a larger business than those Randy mainly dealt with, although that did not mean any particularly larger profit on the deal, what with the way Mr. Coates didn’t see why he should be putting money into other people’s pockets.

“I’ll just remind you,” Randy said, with the papers arranged on the desk, “that it’s a basic policy, like you tell me you want, and doesn’t have any bells or whistles. It’s a high deductible and it’ll get you back in business if you have a major disaster, but not too much else. And the liability coverage is just what you’re required to have and no more. That’s to get you the lowest premium.”

“The factory never has had use for the policy, not in eighty years. Money down a rat hole, mostly. And the premium is high enough.”

“Mr. Coates, I hope you never have to use the policy. But if you do, you’ll be glad you have it.”

Roland humphed and snorted, but he signed on the dotted line, and Randy was wondering if he’d get enough other business that month to cover what this one would be costing him.

“But tell me about this road.”

That took just a moment for Randy to catch up with. “You’re meaning Gold River Highway?”

“If that’s what they’re calling it. I’m talking about the one that’s coming over the mountain and into Hemlock.”

“Yes, sir, that’s Gold River Highway.” He hadn’t heard Coates’ opinion on the possible effects to the neighborhood.

“When is it being started?”

“Started? You mean, when would they start on the construction?”

“What else would I mean?”

“Now, you don’t need to be concerned as it’s not even certain that they ever will. We don’t have funding for it yet, and even if we did, the Board of Supervisors would still be voting whether to accept it, and there are already a few of the neighbors expressing their opinions against it. And I’d guess the board is leaning just a little bit toward a no vote. So I’m recommending that everyone stay calm and we’ll see what happens.”

Mr. Coates was just staring at him. “They might not build the road?”

“I’d call it far from certain.”

Roland did not look calm. “You’ll be voting on the road?”

“Well, sure. And I’ll be protecting the interests of Mountain View and Wardsville.”

“What are you going to vote?”

“That’s what I was saying. I want to keep that road from barreling right down Hemlock as much as anyone.”

“McCoy, what are you going to vote? Yes or no?”

“Well, no. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

“No? Against the road?”

“Yes. Or I mean, yes, I’ll vote no.”

“Then you’re a bigger fool than I thought. Rip up that paper. I’m not insuring my business with a fool.”

This was going to take a bit of working out. Randy stared for a moment, sort of frozen, and then he got himself breathing again, and then thinking. “Now, Mr. Coates, sir, you’re telling me you want the road built?”

“Of course I am. I’m speaking plain English, and you could learn to do the same.”

“Well, sir, now, so far I’ve only heard opinions to the contrary. But if that’s the case, that you’re favoring the road, and it really only does make sense that you are, that’s an important piece of information. Very important. On the weight of that, I’ll retract my statement and just say that when and if the funding comes through, I’ll make sure I’ve heard from everyone on both sides.”

“Now you’re saying you’ll vote for it?”

Randy took another breath and tried to pick just a few words out of the crowd that came to mind. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Haven’t decided. When will you decide?”

“When it’s time to vote.”

“And when will that be?”

“If we get the funding, which is hardly likely to my mind, then we’ll have the last vote in December.”

Mr. Coates didn’t like that, either, but it didn’t look like he’d be yelling at Randy over it. “I won’t know about the road till December?”

“That’s the schedule, and there isn’t anything that would change it.”

“December. Very well. Go ahead and take that contract before I change my mind again. But you’ll be hearing from me.”

“Yes, sir, that’s why I’m here.”

“Bunch of political foolishness. Give me stroke before it’s over.”

About the last thing Randy was going to suggest was that Roland have a doctor check his blood pressure, as that would be Everett. But on the other hand, that might just be taking care of two birds with one stone, with the two of them each giving the other a stroke.

With that unworthy thought, he left for his walk back home. It was a perfect blustery March day and the wind was tugging on his coat, just like a lot of different thoughts were tugging at his brain. Well, sure Roland would want the road. It would be a help for his trucks in getting out to the interstate. And his house wasn’t right on Hemlock, either, but at the back of the neighborhood, against the mountainside.

“Randy!”

If he hadn’t been quite as distracted, he might have noticed Everett and possibly even turned off Hemlock a block earlier. But there the man was, home for lunch, standing beside his car.

“Howdy there, Everett. Nice breath of spring we’re having.”

“Did I see you coming out of the factory?”

“Well, yes, I was. Just talking insurance with Mr. Coates.”

“What’s he saying about the road?”

Either the doctor was reading minds or the road was the only thing on his own mind. “To tell the truth, I got the impression he’d actually prefer to have it built.”

Everett didn’t seem as surprised as Randy had been. He just calculated a few seconds. “That man is set to ruin this neighborhood. First his trucks, and now this.”

“Now, it might be that the second would fix the first, if you understand what I mean.”

“Has he got you in his pocket, Randy? Is that why you’ve been voting for it all along?”

“No, Everett.” He was finally feeling a little put out by it all. “And I haven’t been voting for it. There’s one vote in December that counts, and when that comes, I’ll do what I think is best.”

Everett was calculating all the more. “Then I’ll have to take care of it myself, and I’ve got until December to do it.” He turned away and marched up his steps and into his front door.

Randy sighed and took up his own stroll home. Maybe he should try to get the two of them together, Everett and Roland, and just see if there was a single thing they might possibly agree on. Well, probably that they both were highly dissatisfied with Randy and his representation of their interests on the board. Now, if they were complete opposites in their views, how could he be making them both mad? It almost defied common sense.

Two birds and one stone still seemed like a good idea. And why in the world had Everett gone and bought himself a gun?

Louise couldn’t help herself. She pulled her car into the spot right next to Byron’s, between the warehouse and the factory, and checked her watch. Just right. Byron would be starting his lunch break.

She trotted around the side of the factory to the door the workers used and peeked in there.

That’s where he was, just sitting down on the bench in front of her. She practically ran with the envelope in her hand.

He looked up. “What are you doing here?”

“Just wait till you see,” she said, and sat beside him, a couple other men moving aside to give her a place. There were big saws and wire benders running out on the floor, and the lathes turning, and piles of wood, and the overhead crane swinging along. She held the envelope under his nose.

He looked a minute at it and then he saw the return address. “Matt?”

“All the way from Baghdad.”

“What’s it say?”

She pulled out the piece of paper. It wasn’t very long but it was written by hand. “ ‘Grandma and Grandpa.’ See? He hasn’t forgotten about us. ‘I’m in the mess hall. We just got back from patrol and we’re taking it easy for a while. I want to tell you I just got my orders that we’ll be coming home around September. I want to come see you as soon as I can. You be looking forward to it, all right? Because I sure am. Matt.’ ”

“September,” Byron said. Then he frowned a little at her. “Now don’t you go crying here in the middle of the factory.”

“I’ll cry wherever I want. He told us to be looking forward to him coming.”

“Still a long time till September. Don’t wear yourself out.”

“You’re just as excited as I am.”

“Sure, but I don’t go caterwauling about it.”

But then the man next to him gave him a nudge and pointed his chin toward the front of the big room. Byron followed his look and frowned again. “Looks like they’re at it again.”

Mr. Coates’ office had a big window out onto the floor and people could see in as well as he could see out. And right there in front of everyone, Mr. Coates and Jeremy were standing, facing each other, and both talking at the same time, with Luke Goddard right beside Jeremy, memorizing every word, by the look of him. No one could hear them through the window or the noise, but a person wouldn’t need to, to see that they were shouting at each other and both as furious as they could be.

While they watched, Luke said something, and the two Coates’ turned on him and started laying into him as hard as they had been at each other, and quick as lightning he escaped, and that left Mr. Coates and Jeremy with just each other to be yelling at.

Louise turned around to where she couldn’t see the window, and Byron turned with her. She held his hand to get rid of the thought of yelling and anger. Just being next to him it made her feel like everything would be all right with Matt, and with the Coates and with anything else that she might think of.

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