Nickel City Crossfire by Gary Ross (popular romance novels .txt) 📗

greed. When there’s money to be made dead ahead, poor people are like a roadblock made of helium balloons. That’s why I ran, with the support of several neighborhood associations. But I lost to the incumbent. I didn’t know Ophelia then and had no idea she was the woman Hal had begun to see. Maybe her endorsement would have made a difference.”

“You don’t see Mayor Green as part of the local political network?”

“Not entirely. She broke through the Buffalo Boys’ Club to become mayor, even if she does work hand-in-glove with some of those threatening our neighborhoods. I could have provided a balance and helped keep her responsive to the people.” Recitation finished, she leaned back. “Does my explanation meet your simplicity requirements, or were you testing me?”

“It tells me you’re the one to ask about efforts to gentrify. Are you familiar with any of the developers?”

“The usual suspects. Benderson, Ellicott, McGuire, a few smaller companies, like Onyx Global Group. Merlotta dropped their proposal just a few weeks ago, right after the old man lost his run for mayor. Uniland submitted a new one the next day. So many projects and proposals are floating around nobody can say for sure what’s going to happen.”

Now I leaned toward her. “Ever hear of FBF, Flame Bright Fame? I know, a strange tag for a developer. The board chair is one QC Griffin? Male? Female?”

“A small outfit,” she said, thoughtfully rotating her mug as it sat on its coaster. “An upstart out of Detroit. Looking for investors and hoping to get a foothold somewhere as pay-to-play practices collapse under public pressure. Griffin is a man, I think, but I don’t know much about him. A college kid doing research for our neighborhood groups found another name, somebody who actually runs the company but keeps a low profile. Dante Cuthbert.”

I wrote Dante Cuthbert in my notebook, right beside QC Griffin.

We talked a bit more as we finished our tea. After she answered all my questions about gentrification, we drifted onto other topics, including my friendship with Ophelia and her late husband Danny. But when Glennie pointed to an award and recited its backstory, and then did the same with a citation, I figured it was time to leave. I pocketed my notebook, stood, and thanked her for the tea.

She stood too, accepting my outstretched hand and holding it a few seconds too long.

“Gideon,” Dr. Glendora Chancellor-Pratt said, “I know I’m somewhat older than you and I know from Ophelia you have a lady friend, a lawyer. Now, I don’t wish to embarrass you or in any way make you uncomfortable, but I like you. I get the feeling you like me too.”

“You’re very likable, Glennie,” I said. “But I—”

She leaned across the desk and silenced me with two fingertips pressed to my lips. “I just want you to know if things don’t work out with your friend, I’m available, for occasional comfort. I’m not interested in another marriage or keeping house with another man. But there are things I miss, things I don’t want to give up just yet.” She withdrew her fingers, put them to her lips for a moment, and smiled. “I can be very adventurous.”

I returned the smile. “Even with Will Henry’s heart beating in every room?”

Glennie shrugged. “It’s been a while, but I’ve been known to tell him to close his eyes or go wait in the solarium.”

We both laughed but her face grew serious again almost instantly.

“When you tell your lover about this—and if you’re the man I think you are, you will—please promise me that you’ll be kind. That you’ll both laugh with me and not at me.”

“Promise,” I said.

32

On Thursday morning, Veronica Surowiec was found face down in the Black Rock Canal. Tangled in submerged tree roots along the east bank and bobbing amid chunks of ice, she was spotted at dawn by an employee of the nearby Buffalo Sewage Treatment Plant and recovered from the water by eight. But the body went unidentified until late afternoon. A fingerprint check led to an earlier drug arrest and, finally, to the Humanitas Institute.

Ileana called me around four and told me, tearfully, that detectives were on their way to take her to view a body they thought was Veronica. She asked me to accompany her inside for the formal identification. I agreed to meet her outside the building.

The Erie County medical examiner’s office was located at the rear of ECMC, the county medical center. I got there before Ileana, parked in the lot some distance away, and walked to the entrance. Five or six minutes later, a gray unmarked police car rolled into the parking lot and stopped near my Escape. To my surprise, Terry Chalmers climbed out of the driver’s seat. Wearing his brown fedora, Rafael Piñero got out on the passenger side and opened the door to the back. He offered a hand to Ileana, who got out and waved to me from across the lot.

Chalmers walked toward me, bald head covered by a knit watch cap and dark face wearing a scowl. His hands were jammed in the pockets of his long leather coat. It was obvious they were balled into fists. Even at a normal pace, his long legs would have covered the distance more quickly than Ileana’s. But he strode faster today, bearing down on me with an urgency I had not seen in the couple months I’d known him.

“Imagine my surprise,” he said when he reached me, voice deeper than usual, “when that nice lady told me if we got here early, she would have to wait for her friend Mr. Rimes before going inside. I only know one guy named Rimes, so this shit’s gotta be complicated.”

“You and Rafael aren’t my only pals, Terry,” I said. “I may not be in George Bailey territory, but my friendship portfolio is pretty healthy.”

“Fuck this guy Bailey and your portfolio! I want to know if this is related to the mess downtown the other