Chapter 11 - The Woman in the White Mercedes
Vanessa Cross was waiting beside the white Mercedes when I returned.She stood beneath my porch awning in a camel-colored coat, one hand resting lightly on the handle of a leather handbag. Her hair was silver-blond and perfectly arranged. She looked less like a developer than the host of a television program about gracious living.Noah was not with me. Katherine had brought him to her office, where he was drawing at a conference table under the supervision of her paralegal.Vanessa smiled.“Mrs. Carter.”“You know who I am.”“I make it my business to know the people with whom I work.”“We have never worked together.”“Not yet.”I remained at the bottom of the steps.“You should not be on my property.”“I apologize. I wanted to speak with you directly.”“You could have called.”“A call can be ignored.”“So can a visitor.”Her smile held.“May I?”“No.”She looked past me toward the front window, where the curtains were drawn.“You have a lovely home.”“Thank you.”“The original woodwork is unusual for this street. The lot is also deeper than it appears.”“You’ve studied it.”“Of course.”The polite answer sounded like a confession.She handed me a cream folder.“Cross Development would like to make a formal offer.”“Cedar Meridian already did.”“Cedar Meridian represents one of our acquisition partners.”“So you do know them.”“I know every company associated with this project.”I did not open the folder.“How much?”“Two million dollars.”For a moment, even the rain seemed to pause.Vanessa watched my face.“That is twice the market value,” she said.“I know what my house is worth.”“Then you understand that this is an extraordinary opportunity.”“For whom?”“For your family. You could move anywhere. A smaller home. A condominium. A place without maintenance.”“You have no idea what my family needs.”“I know you are a widow raising a young boy alone.”The words were courteous. The knowledge behind them was not.“My grandson and I are not alone.”“No, of course not.”“And we are not for sale.”Vanessa’s expression remained pleasant, but something behind it cooled.“Mrs. Carter, everyone has a number.”“Then you haven’t found mine.”The smile disappeared.It returned a second later, but not quite in the same shape.“This project will bring jobs, improved roads, and housing to the area.”“Then build it somewhere else.”“We have acquired much of the necessary land.”“Much is not all.”“You are one homeowner.”“I am the homeowner.”Her fingers tightened around the folder.“There are ways to make transitions easier.”“And ways to make them harder?”“I would never threaten you.”“No. You send other people.”For the first time, her eyes sharpened.“Grant Harlan is an independent contractor.”“He assaulted my grandson.”“I’m sorry you experienced a distressing encounter.”“He was paid to frighten us.”“That is a serious allegation.”“You should be concerned.”“I am always concerned about allegations.”She took one step closer. Her perfume was expensive and faintly floral.“You are making a decision based on emotion.”“I am making it based on ownership.”“The project will proceed.”“Not through my house.”“You may be surprised by what can proceed without your cooperation.”The sentence was soft enough to be mistaken for advice.I opened the front door.“Our conversation is over.”Vanessa looked inside. “If you change your mind, call the number in the folder.”“I won’t.”“Everyone changes their mind eventually.”“Not everyone.”She descended the steps and walked to the Mercedes.Before getting in, she turned.“You have a great deal to lose by standing alone.”“Then it is fortunate I am not standing alone.”She glanced across the street. Grant’s house was dark.“We’ll see.”The Mercedes drove away.Katherine arrived an hour later with Noah. He ran through the door and hugged my waist.“Did she offer a lot?”“Yes.”“Did you say no?”“Yes.”“Was she mad?”“She was disappointed.”Katherine placed a file on the table. “She has already bought five houses.”I opened it.The map showed a line of parcels wrapping around my property.“If she gets this one,” Katherine said, “she controls the access route for the entire development.”I looked at the street, the trees, the old porches, and the place where Noah’s ball had first rolled away from us.Vanessa Cross had not come to make an offer.She had come to tell me how much my refusal would cost.
