Tax Cut (5 page)

“No, Mike, now please…don’t call again.”

I hung up the phone.
He called me right back. I hit the “do not disturb” button. I had enough of Mike Nero for one day, and I was still upset about the Marc incident, so I decided it was time to call it a day.

Chapter
5

In the dark of the night, t
wo men had been digging with shovels.

“This would be a lot easier with a backhoe,” the first one said, gritting his teeth.

“The backhoe will be too noisy. It’s four in the morning. It’ll wake up the neighbors,” said the second man.

Nosy neighbors would not have been a welcome disturbance.
Tired and sweaty, the men continued to dig for close to two hours.

“We’re running out of time. This will have to do,” one announced.

They dragged the bodies that were wrapped in plastic from the office building. They laid the bodies in the freshly dug graves. The sun was due to rise in thirty minutes. There wasn’t much time to cover them. The men worked diligently until daybreak. The bodies were covered, but not deeply. It didn’t matter, though. Foundations to new townhomes would be poured in this area within days. No one would find the bodies under the thick concrete.

The hissing and screeching of the turkey vultures could be heard. They circled around the recently disturbed soil. Their keen sense of smell could detect the gases emitted from the decomposing flesh. As the scavengers searched for their food, the men headed inside to clean up.

* * *

I shuffled outside to get the morning
newspaper. It was freezing out. I was tired of this cold weather. I ran back inside the house and unfolded the paper. The front page had a story about a married couple reported missing by their daughter in the village where I worked. I hadn’t known the couple and didn’t recognize their photos. They lived in an oceanfront house, so I assumed they were well to do, as oceanfront homes in Coral Beach sold for quite a pretty penny. I heard Mandy stirring, so I put down the paper to get her ready for the day.

After I had left her with my parents, I
headed into work and nestled into my chair.

Bryce peeked his head into my office.

“Good morning, Madame Clerk.”

“Good morning, Mr. Assessor.”

“Would you like a cup of coffee? I’m pouring one for myself.”

I took him up on the offer. “Yes, please! With that hazelnut creamer we have and Splenda.”

Bryce returned moments later with the coffee for me. I thanked him.

“How have your first couple of days been?”

“As good as can be expected,” I answered.

“You mean, stressful, then?” Bryce said with a smirk.

I lo
oked into his brown eyes. “You’re perceptive,” I remarked.

“Nah, I just remember what my first week was like.”

“How long ago was that?” I asked.

“Oh, I’ve only been here for a few months.”

“A newbie, like me!” I pointed out.

“Yeah, us newbies need to stick together.”

“I agree.”

“Well, if there’s anything you need…” Bryce’s voice trailed off.

“Thanks, Bryce.”

He left my office, so I turned by attention to my voicemail messages.

The
sound of Mike Nero’s voice, like nails on a chalkboard, filled my ears…over and over again. I discovered he had left me at least ten voicemails.
Persistent little bugger
, I thought.

The first message was casual
. “Hey, Chelsey, it’s Mike; call me back.” The next nine got progressively creepier. By the end of message ten, he was proclaiming his undying love for me and telling me he would fight to the death for my honor.

“Oh
, great! I’ve got a stalker,” I said under my breath. This was just my type of luck. I wondered why I couldn’t have a gorgeous guy like Kris calling me and professing his love, but instead, I had this nut head over heels for me. I realized I hadn’t heard from Kris recently. Despite the embarrassment, I was disappointed that I hadn’t seen him since our catastrophic meeting at Federici’s. I had been too busy with starting a new job to call him, and I guess he was still having his own issues at work. I sighed.

The phone rang, and
my heart leapt into my throat, and not in a good way. I went into a panic, thinking it was Nero calling. Luckily, I had caller ID at work. It was Babs Todaro.

“Hello, Babs. How can I help you?” I asked.

“That village president is a crook,” she said. “He is taking all of our money and giving it away.”

“How is he giving it away?” I asked, humoring her.

“He is giving it to those people to build their cemetery.”

I was
amazed she was still on the cemetery kick.

“I saw him,” she said.
“He handed an envelope filled with money to the tooth fairy.”

“The tooth fairy?” I asked, trying not to laugh.

“Yes, the tooth fairy. My nephew is friends with the tooth fairy.”

“Who is your nephew?” I asked.

“I have to go now; they are outside. I’m going to go tell them they don’t have a permit for their cemetery and they are going to have to move it somewhere else.”

“Okay, Babs, have a nice day.”

“What did Babs want this time?” I heard a voice say. It was Bryce. He must have overheard me talking. No surprise there. I could spit on his office door from my desk. I hadn’t noticed his clothes earlier, but I realized he wasn’t dressed so nerdy today. The last couple of days, he had worn a sweater vest overtop of a button-down shirt with a tie. Today, he skipped the sweater vest and was donned in a royal blue button-down shirt and black pants that fit perfectly in all the right spots. It was the first time I thought he was handsome. I might have been interested in him if I hadn’t had Kris on my mind and if I hadn’t had an aversion to dating coworkers. Once upon a time, I had been interested in someone from work—a cop at my last job. I was a nervous wreck around him because I had such a crush on him, then, as luck would have it, he turned out to be a criminal.
No more coworkers for me.

“I don’t know
—something about money, a tooth fairy, and the cemetery.”

“I think she told me about the tooth fairy once too,” he said with a giggle.
He turned and stepped back into his office.

I
went over to the coffee machine, helped myself to a second cup, and snuggled back into my chair, starting my paperwork for the day. If nothing else, Coral Beach provided me with an awesome leather chair, which was super comfy. My phone rang again. Mike Nero. I hit the “do not disturb” button.

Bryce
came to my office several minutes later and told me someone was calling his extension for me. When he revealed it was Mike Nero, I asked him if he would do me a huge favor and tell him I was in a meeting. I told him I would owe him one.

Nero told
Bryce he needed help with a dog license. Bryce fibbed and told Nero that he knew all about dog licenses and that he could help him with something. He refused Bryce’s assistance and insisted I call him back. Bryce took his phone number and handed it to me. I pitched it into the garbage. Bryce looked at me and started to laugh.

“What was that all about?” he asked.

“I’m quite embarrassed. I feel silly telling you this, being that I just started working here. But it appears I’ve picked up a stalker.”

Bryce
laughed harder.

“I hope you feel sorry for me, and that you’re not just mocking me,” I said jokingly to him.

“A little of both,” he replied.

I guessed I would have been more embarrassed if it
was anyone else, but there was something about Bryce that I liked. He was down to earth and made me feel at ease. I knew he and I would be friends.

The bell dinged.
Bryce and I both glanced at the counter. It was Bonnie arriving several minutes early for her interview. I invited her in to wait until Dingo was ready. She was drop-dead gorgeous. She probably could have been a supermodel. Her hair was dyed back to her natural deep brown color and her big brown eyes sparkled. She was glamorous, had a killer body, and was married to a neurosurgeon. She was also a good person, but had a raunchy side in a comedic kind of way. She was dressed in a sexy, red, form-fitting dress. I guess after I told her Dingo was a dog, she figured she would use that to her advantage.

“You look great!
Good luck!” I told her.

“Thanks!” she said.
“Who was the hottie with you when I rang the bell?”

“That’s Bryce Coach, the
Tax Assessor.”

“Huh.
You told me he wasn’t hot.”

“I guess he’s not bad.”

“Now I really hope I get the job. I get to look at that fine tush every day.”

“Oh, brother!” I said with a roll of my eyes.

Dingo came out, took one look at Bonnie, and casually unbuttoned another button on his shirt, revealing more of his hairy chest. I cringed in disgust. Since Bonnie couldn’t make a remark, which was customary for her, I could see her stifle back a smirk. She followed him back to his office for her interview. He asked if I wanted to interview her as well, since she would be working for me too. I declined. Bonnie had already been my assistant once—I knew she was good. I went back to work at my desk. I noticed the phones were quiet this morning. Besides Babs Todaro and Mike Nero, the phones had barely rung at all in the few days of my employment. I knew this was because Coral Beach was a summer resort type of a municipality, and there wasn’t much in the way of activity this time of year.

There was still no word from the attorneys about the zoning ordinance, and without the ordinance, I didn’t know which properties were affected.
So, I couldn’t get a jumpstart on the mailing I needed to do. I was also finished with the agenda items I had been given for the board meeting next week. With nothing left on my plate, I decided to clean out my new desk, finally, and sort things the way I liked them.

It seemed as though someone had already cleared out Vinny’s personal items.
I was grateful for that. I was apprehensive about finding something that belonged to a dead guy. I was sad for Vinny and almost felt a sense of guilt at the fact that I had this new job because of his death. I was deep in thought, sorting letterhead and envelopes, when I came across an envelope with something inside. I pulled the piece of paper out of the envelope and opened it.

Chills ran down the entire length my entire body, followed by the feeling of terror.
My hands trembled as I read the note. It said, “If you are reading this, and I am dead, please tell the police the boss is responsible.”

“Chelsey.
Chelsey,” I heard Bryce calling my name.

“Huh?” I looked up.

“What’s the matter, Chelsey? You look as pale as a ghost.”

“Uh…I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me,” I said.

“Is Marc harassing you again?” he asked.

“Oh, no, it’s not him.”

“I have that Mike Nero guy on the phone again,” Bryce reported.

Without thinking, I said, “Put him through.”

“Really?” Bryce asked.

“Uh…yeah, I guess.”
I wasn’t thinking rationally after reading that note. I picked up the phone.

“Yes, Mr. Nero, how can I help you?” I asked.

“Mr. Nero? What’s this Mr. Nero stuff? If we are going to get married, you’ll need to start calling me by my first name.”

“Married?!” I asked or exclaimed
—I’m not sure which. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, you’ll see.
I know it. I can feel it in my fingers. I feel it in my toes.”

“Isn’t that a song?”

“No, I just made it up.”

“You didn’t make it up, it’s a song.
By the Troggs.”

“You know I love you, I always will.”

“Knock it off, Nero. What do you want?” I said angrily.

“I want you.”

“Well, you can’t have me.”

“Go out with me this weekend.”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“I’m washing my hair.”

“No
, you’re not; go out with me.”

“I’m hanging up now,” I told him sternly.

“Wait….It’s written on the wind, it’s everywhere I go…”

I hung up the phone. “Idiot!” I said out loud.

“What did he say?” Bryce asked.

“He was reciting song lyrics to me,” I told him.

“What a weirdo,” Bryce said.

“Yeah, seriously.”

I tried to get back to work, but couldn’t concentrate. The words that I saw on that piece of paper resonated in my head along with questions that I didn’t have answers to:
Who killed Vinny Buttiglieri? Was it one of my bosses? If so, which one? And why?

Bonnie’s interview came to an end while I was deep in thought.
She strutted into my office and took a seat.

“Well?” I asked her.