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We don’t know any such thing for sure, we only suspect it, but my bluff draws the desired reaction from Jespers.
“That was supposed to be kept under wraps until the spring when construction is scheduled to start.”
I glance over at Tessa, who tries to hide a triumphant smile.
“We don’t want it to become public knowledge, at least not yet,” I share. “But we know, the FBI knows, and we are determined to get to the bottom of this.”
“The FBI?”
I nod in confirmation.
“Mr. Jespers, when was this vote supposed to come before the board of commissioners?” Tessa takes over. “You meet monthly, right?”
“Yes, we do, but the rezoning vote isn’t on the docket yet.”
“I see,” my partner continues. “Have you had a chance to look at the proposal?”
“No. I’m expected to vote in favor of this development, but I haven’t seen any actual plans.”
“Do you know who’s financing it?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I figured it was that developer the mayor paraded through town a year or so ago. His Texan buddy, who was supposedly interested in building some kind of seniors’ home here in Silence.”
“Do you remember the name of this developer?”
“Odd guy. Odd name. I think it was Arlo…something. Can’t remember his last name.”
“Arlo Hudson.”
The answer comes from Hugo, who is in the office when we get back.
Other than confirming our suspicions, that was the biggest piece of new information Jesper left with us. He was able to tell us he suspected there were more members of the board Merrick would need to convince to vote favorably, but had no idea as to who those members might be. We’d have to do the footwork on that.
But the name Arlo Hudson was potentially a big lead.
“Hudson Developments,” Hugo adds. “I remember Merrick was showing the guy around town sometime ago. He was interested in building a seniors’ home or something, but since we didn’t hear anything after, I figured that idea never went anywhere.”
Besides, a seniors’ home would hardly be the type of development that would necessitate the kind of widespread corruption we’re suspecting. But it might be the hook they’re trying to sell to gain public favor in a bait-and-switch development scam like the ones Mancuso mentioned in our meeting.
“This may be a stretch, but Hudson Developments,” Tessa suggests. “Any chance it’s related to HDLink?”
I’ll be damned.
“We’d better brief Mancuso.”
Dana
* * *
Leaving the hospital parking lot behind, I’m glad this day is over.
All in all, it was pretty depressing.
After a rather restless night, Mrs. Dixon, Silence’s beloved former librarian, came in first thing this morning with a nasty sore under her right foot as a result of her diabetes. She’d left it too long and I could see where the infection had started spreading up her foot. I had to admit her and start her on IV antibiotics, but I was afraid it was already too far advanced. Chances are good she’ll need to have that foot amputated.
That was only the first in a slew of bad news I had to dole out today. A suspicious lump that required a biopsy, a fetus without a heartbeat, a torn ACL—possibly ending the dreams of a sixteen-year-old quarterback—and the list goes on.
To top it all off, right before I shut the clinic for the day, I received word the driver in the accident the other day succumbed to his injuries in the hospital in Spokane, where we ended up transferring him.
