Last Chance Beauty Queen (Last Chance #3)(33)
Author: Hope Ramsay

Dr. LaFlore put up a hand. “I know what you want. I just got a phone call from Lillian Bray, and she explained it all. I think it’s an interesting idea, but I don’t believe it will fly.”

Since Hugh had yet to meet formally with Lillian Bray, he was momentarily confused. “Um. What does Mrs. Bray think I’m looking for? Because to be quite frank, I haven’t yet spoken with her. I met her for the first time on Saturday, of course, but that was a social affair.”

“Oh.” Dr. LaFlore leaned back in her chair, the springs squeaking. “She said you wanted the town council to condemn Golfing for God.”

“Well, if ya’ll had the gumption to do that, it would sure solve all of Hugh’s problems,” Cissy drawled.

“Not all of them, Dr. LaFlore,” Hugh said. “The land adjacent to the golf course has swamp on it. I’ve been informed just recently that wetlands reclamation can be difficult in South Carolina.”

“It can be. But there are ways to get around some of that regulation. And I don’t think we’ll have too many locals lining up to save water moccasin habitat, Lord knows we have enough of that in our state. What we don’t have is a healthy tax base.”

“I see, so you could help me get through the environmental red tape?” Hugh asked.

“I can’t guarantee that, but I think I can be helpful. My biggest concern, quite frankly, is that committee of church women that Hettie Marshall is chairing.”

“Well, if you don’t have the courage to stare down a bunch of churchwomen, then Lord Woolham will have to build his factory elsewhere,” Cissy said.

Cissy’s threat wasn’t real, of course. If he didn’t build his factory here, he would have to go back to square one and find some additional partners. And before he could get that kind of thing set up, he’d have to pay taxes on Woolham House.

Really, he was sunk. He felt as if he were rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.

Dr. LaFlore gave Cissy a sober stare. “I support your factory. And I wish Bert would sell his golf course. That old place makes our town look like a Bible Belt backwater. But for the town council to legally take Bert’s land, we’d have to be building a road or something.”

“Building a road would make a difference?” Hugh asked.

“Well, yes. If the state were building a road, then we could take the land using eminent domain because we needed the land for a public use. But to simply condemn the place, force him to sell it to the town, and then turn around and resell it to you would be highly illegal.”

“But I only need that small parcel for road and rail access.”

Dr. LaFlore studied him for a long, uncomfortable moment. “Well, that changes things.” She steepled her long fingers. “Of course, public financing for a road through that land would be impossible. Now, if you could come up with some private financing, perhaps we could figure out a public-private partnership. That might make it possible, and certainly worth thinking about. I sure would hate to see Last Chance lose out on this kind of economic development.”

“But this approach would require the state to force Elbert Rhodes off his land, wouldn’t it?” Hugh asked.

She nodded. “Yes, it would. Are you squeamish about that? You ought to be, you know. And the churchwomen will be very unhappy. That could be a problem for my election, but I’m betting that economic development and jobs will trump a putt-putt place every time. Do you really have the money to build a road through there?”

The hairs on the back of Hugh’s neck prickled. He had enough money, barely, to build the factory, which included road and rail connections. But if he had to spend a farthing more for wetlands reclamation, he was sunk. He doubted, very much, that Victoria would be willing to loan him money for this venture. Vicky had already told him that if he were to marry her, he’d have to give up tinkering about with bits of machinery.

“Dr. LaFlore, I’m very tight on cash. I would have to seek additional financing, which I might need in any case because of the swampland. Additional financing is not easy to come by.”

“No, it’s not. But perhaps we can help find you some. I would like to help deliver your factory to my constituents.” The future mayor of Last Chance gave him a big American smile filled with very white teeth.

Haley sat in the backseat of Granny’s van as Granddaddy pulled up to the curb outside Miz Bray’s house. Granddaddy was supposed to be taking Haley to the fairgrounds, where they were going to get dinner and ride on the Tilt-A-Whirl, but Granddaddy said he needed to stop and take care of some business first.

Miz Bray’s house stood on the edge of town and had a really big front yard. The pink and yellow and purple flowers in Miz Bray’s yard were real pretty. Folks said she had the prettiest yard in all of Allenberg County.

Granddaddy stopped the car and then turned in his seat. “You stay put, punkin’. This won’t take a minute, and then I’ll take you twice on the Tilt-A-Whirl.”

Granddaddy got out of the car, and the Sorrowful Angel got out with him. A shiver of something not good took hold of Haley. The Sorrowful Angel had been mad the last few days. She’d stopped crying, but she’d started grumbling. Every once in a while, the angel said a bad word or two.

Miz Bray came to the door, and Granddaddy started talking to her right there on the porch. Haley couldn’t hear what Granddaddy was saying, but she got the feeling—mostly by the way he took off his hat and started slamming it into his hand—that he was not happy.

This made Haley feel kind of warm inside. Granddaddy really loved her, in spite of the fact that she could see the Sorrowful Angel.

Miz Bray slammed her front door in Granddaddy’s face. And then things got out of hand.

Haley should have known something bad would happen the minute the Sorrowful Angel got out of the car and followed Granddaddy to the porch. The angel let go of a shriek that hurt Haley’s ears, and then…

Well, then she took after Miz Bray’s flowers. She started pulling them up—the tall spiky ones that grew along the porch. And after she pulled them out of the ground, the angel threw them, roots and all, at Miz Bray’s front window. Granddaddy just stood there and let it happen.

When the Sorowful Angel had finished pulling up all of Miz Bray’s flowers, the front door to the house opened again. Miz Bray came out with a broom that she took to Granddaddy’s head. He fended it off and took the broom from her. Then he used it to give Miz Bray a swat across her broad behind. Granddaddy knocked Miz Bray right off her feet. She landed right in the middle of her messed-up flowerbed.

Granddaddy and the angel hightailed it back to the car before Miz Bray could get up. Granddaddy started the car up, and they got going. Then he tilted the rearview mirror and gave Haley a long, funny look. “Little gal, we’re not going to tell a soul about what just happened, are we?”

“No sir.”

Haley was no dummy.

Chapter 17

Hugh studied Cissy Warren as she guided her cherry red Corvette down Palmetto Avenue, heading toward Miriam Randall’s boardinghouse. She was thin and well dressed and definitely knew how to air-kiss.

Granddad would have adored her.

Hugh, not so much.

He was exhausted. His meetings with individual members of the town council had made him increasingly uncomfortable.

He wanted his factory. But he didn’t want to be a villain. It wasn’t fair to force Elbert Rhodes off his land.

Cissy turned into Miriam’s drive. “Look, Hugh,” Cissy said as she killed the engine, “if you don’t want to go for it on this whole condemnation thing, then you should cut your losses and rethink.”

“Rethink in what way?”

“Well,” she said, reaching out and running her long fingernails across his cheek in a gesture that was supposed to be alluring, “first of all, I think you should go get your things. Then we should drive back to Columbia and find a nice restaurant and a good hotel for you.”

“Are you propositioning me?”

She giggled. “In a way, yes.”

“Well I—”

“No, listen.” She pressed her finger against his lips. He didn’t really like being silenced that way.

“You want to build this factory and make your loom, right?” she said. “But you don’t have the money to get the job done. The fact is, even if they condemn that piece of land, you’d be hard pressed to find the money to build the road and deal with the swamp. You are undercapitalized. You are going to fail.”

Anger bubbled down in his gut. He’d heard this before. So many times, on so many things. “How do you know I’m going to fail?” He bit off the words, momentarily losing his cool.

“Because I’ve taken a look at your personal balance sheet.”

“Right. Caroline told me all about that. Did you put a private investigator on my trail?”

“Yes, I did. And don’t look like that. A woman like me has to be careful. I know you’re underfunded. And I know you’re considering marriage to a woman whose only assets are her assets. But it’s okay, because you’re smart and classy. I like classy men. And I happen to be rich enough to afford you.”

“I’m so glad I have your approval,” he said, the sarcasm barely disguised.

“Don’t be angry. I had a feeling we weren’t going to get very far with these yokels today. Now you need to listen to me.”

“Why should I?”

“Because, dear Baron, we’re wasting our time here. Daddy’s taken a look at the specs for your loom, and he thinks you’re brilliant—as an inventor and engineer, not a businessman. Given that, it just makes sense for Warren Fabrics to buy your design. Then we would have exclusive rights to this technology, which is going to revolutionize textile manufacturing. We’d finance the production line. You could be in charge of that if you wanted. Or you could spend your time inventing the next big thing, which I imagine is what you’d rather do.”

Hugh stared at her for a long, tense moment. Cissy had just offered him the perfect solution. She’d even offered him an opportunity to get out of the business end of things and concentrate on what he loved the most—tinkering around with bits of machinery.

So why was he hesitating?

One single thought came to his mind—Caroline on Sunday morning talking about how she loved Last Chance and all of its citizens. Her passion had touched him. She wanted to save the chicken plant and find a way to build Hugh’s factory here, where it would matter to a bunch of ordinary people.

If he said yes to Cissy, the factory would go elsewhere. No doubt there would be people in the I-85 corridor who would welcome new jobs, but they wouldn’t be Caroline’s people.

He should say yes to Cissy. Caroline, herself, had suggested that Cissy was the solution to his problems.

But he couldn’t. For some reason, the people of Last Chance had gotten under his skin. Especially one particular senatorial aide.

“So what do you think?” Cissy asked, pressing her advantage.

“Can I think about it?”