“But you weren’t the one doing the earwigging,” Bruce said.
“Exactly. I can’t understand why she felt the need to inform me that she thinks my case is weak. What did she gain? I’m really baffled. I’ve been here only six years and I rarely appear in her court. I’ve talked to a couple of local guys who do a lot of chancery work and it seems as though she has a reputation for loose lips. She’s well regarded and there are few complaints, but she drops comments from time to time when she doesn’t like a lawsuit or the testimony of a witness. I guess that doesn’t matter. What matters is that she tipped her hand in favor of Panther Cay.”
“And if you called her out?”
“It would only make things worse. As you know, there’s no jury. She is the sole decision-maker. The verdict belongs to her. We can always appeal, but the Florida appellate courts rarely overturn a Chancellor in matters like these. She has enormous power and her verdict will be given great deference on appeal.”
“Hard to believe she would bring this up at a bar lunch.”
“Well, the lunch was over and we were alone. Still, it was strange. And I got the clear impression that she sort of wished she hadn’t said anything.”
“Lucky she did. At least you know where you stand. Can’t you ask her to step aside?”
“That rarely works. In fact, it usually backfires. When you ask a judge to recuse herself, guess who makes the decision. The judge. And if she says no, then you’re stuck with a judge who’s really pissed off at you.”
The pizza arrived and they had a bite.
Steven said, “And your dirt?”
“Nothing compared to this. Just a bit of gossip, which, oddly enough, is related to Her Honor. Do you know Aurelia Snow, lives in that big blue Victorian on Elm Street?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Nice lady. Husband’s in memory care or one of those places and she’s downsizing, selling the big house and moving into a new condo. She wanted Noelle to buy back a boatload of French antiques she’s collected over the years. Anyway, Noelle drove her over to see the new place yesterday. It’s in Old Dunes, the latest planned development on the back bay.”
“I know all about it. We thought about stepping in, filing suit, trying to fight it, but found nothing to hang our hat on. Just another development, one of too many, and we decided to keep our powder dry.”
“For Panther Cay.”
“For Panther Cay, and after Panther Cay there will be another one. This is Florida.”
“I love it. More books are sold per capita in Florida than any other state. Don’t forget that. The population is a bit older and folks like to read.”
“I bought a hundred books from you last year. Hardbacks, no discount.”
“God bless you. And I’ll bet your bookshelves are beautiful.”
“Indeed they are. And the dirt?”
“Well, small world. The guy building Ms. Snow’s fancy new condo is none other than Lenny Salazar, son of the judge.”
“Didn’t know she had a son. She’s divorced, right?”
“Yes, a long time ago. She doesn’t live on the island so I don’t know much about her.”
“What’s your angle?”
“I don’t have one. That’s your world. I’m just a small-town bookseller.” He took a bite and chewed. “But I wonder who owns Old Dunes.”
“I thought it was some Texas swinger.”
“Maybe, maybe not. The first newspaper story said it was a Houston company with an office in Tallahassee. I called Sid at The Register and he knew little. Might be worth digging into.”
“Wait a minute. You’re not thinking it might be Tidal Breeze?”
Bruce was nodding.
4
At four that afternoon, Steven returned to the bookstore and brought Diane with him. They found Bruce in the rear stockroom, boxing up unsold books to return to the warehouse, an unpleasant task that he refused to delegate. He still opened every box of new books and placed them on display with great confidence that they would be sold, read, and enjoyed. Six months later, he sadly sent some back in defeat.
Steven and Diane collected espressos at the upstairs coffee bar and waited for Bruce at a quiet corner table. When he climbed the stairs, he ordered a latte and sat down. “This must be serious,” he said with a smile.
“Diane’s on the trail,” Steven replied.
“It’s not much of a trail, yet,” Diane said. “The land for Old Dunes was purchased five years ago by a Houston company that set up a new corporation in Florida. It has done business here before, primarily in the Naples area. It leased an office in Orlando and went to work, got all the permits and approvals, promised to be good boys and productive citizens. So far, no complaints. The Texas guys have a nice reputation for building quality resorts, hotels, golf courses, the works. It’s a private corporation so not much in the way of public records, though I did track down some of their other developments and learned that they prefer to build, then hold and manage themselves. Not in the habit of flipping. However, in September of last year, they sold Old Dunes to a company registered in the Bahamas. Proper paperwork was filed here by the new owner, Hibiscus Partners. Couldn’t find a thing about them. Like a lot of offshore havens, the Bahamians keep things private, for a nice fee, of course. Then, in early October Hibiscus sold Old Dunes to Rio Glendale, and the weeds get thicker. Rio Glendale is registered on the tiny Caribbean island of Montserrat, a rather notorious haven for shady corporations and tax evaders.”
“I’ve never heard of Montserrat,” Bruce said.
“They advertise in travel magazines and that’s about it.”
“Where is it?”
“It’s a British territory, down the road from Nevis and St. Kitts.”
“Sorry I asked.”
“Most of it was destroyed by a volcano a few years back.”
“And they call it a haven?”
“Anyway, it’s impossible to penetrate the record-keeping on the island, same as the other Caribbean fronts.”
“So, another dead end?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Diane was in her element, slowly peeling the onion. “You might not be surprised to learn that Tidal Breeze has a history of tax troubles. I’ve found two newspaper articles about dust-ups with the IRS, and both led to investigations in the Bahamas and Cayman Islands.”
Steven said, “It’s possible that Tidal Breeze bought Old Dunes through Rio Glendale and is keeping it offshore.”
“And does this little conspiracy have a motive?” Bruce asked as he tried to keep up.
“Ever heard the word ‘earwigging’?”
“Not since lunch.”
“We’re dreaming here, Bruce, speculating. Playing a game of what-ifs. Panther Cay will be far more profitable to Tidal Breeze than Old Dunes, so what if Tidal Breeze figures it can have both? It uses Old Dunes to snag Lenny Salazar, who just might be able to influence his mother.”
“You’re really throwing darts here, Steven.”
“True. But as I said, we’re just playing a game, for now anyway.” Steven nodded to Diane, who said, “I’ve spent the past two hours studying building permits, something I don’t recommend, both in Camino and Duval counties. For the past three years Lenny Salazar has built fourteen duplexes in Duval, federal government housing, average value about two hundred thousand. He also built a small apartment complex and a strip mall. He’s a hustler, stays busy, good reputation with the trades. Last September he appeared at Old Dunes and started building condos worth a lot more. I called his office, said I was looking for a builder, and was told Mr. Salazar was too busy to call me back.”