Page 39 of Fake-Off with Fate
“Why don’t we all go sit down,” I suggest.
After the rest of the council members have arrived and wetake our seats, Phillip walks into the room and demands, “Where is Mayor Thompkins?”
Councilman Mitchell echoes, “Yes, whereisthe mayor? I don’t know about everyone else, but I had plans with my family this afternoon and I’m curious why we’ve been summoned. This is highly unusual.”
Standing up, I address the group. “Most of you know that I’m Mayor Thompkins’ daughter, Ashlyn.” After a few grunts and greetings, I continue, “My dad isn’t feeling very well today. He’s asked me to make his apologies for being unable to attend. I’m here in his place.”
“What do you mean he’s not coming?” Phillip raises his fists like he’s carrying a torch and leading a pack of rioting townsfolk. “I talked to him myself and he said he’d meet me here. He never mentioned feeling unwell.”
First off, Phillip never spoke to my dad. He’s just saying this so he can look important, which is pitiful. Secondly, Phillip is a turd, and I want to smack him. “I don’t know when you talked to my dad, Phillip, but he’s been sick all morning. He thinks he might have food poisoning.”
“Oh, dear.” Mrs. Fishman’s face collapses in concern. “I hope he didn’t get it anywhere local.”
“I’m sure he’ll let the establishment know if it’s food poisoning,” I tell her. “Now, as to the reason we’re all here.” I look around the table meaningfully before announcing, “Victor MacDonald’s heir has come forth and is demanding the return of his ancestor’s property.”
Councilman Mitchell bangs the table loudly with his fist. “That property was turned over to the city decades ago when an heir couldn’t be found!”
“That’s correct, Mr. Mitchell. But in the state of Washington there is no statute of limitations in an inheritance claim. Therefore, if Alexander MacDonald can prove he’s the rightful heir, the property is legally his.”
“How do we know this isn’t all a hoax?” another council member calls out.
“I’ve been in touch with the claimant’s lawyer, and he’s promised to send documentation,” I tell them.
Excited chatter erupts like I just announced the next winter Olympics are going to take place in our town. I call out, “If you’ll please quiet down a moment, I’d like to tell you what our plan is.”
Once the room settles, I explain, “My father feels the best way to deal with this is for Maple Falls to raise enough money to offer to buy the land from the current Mr. MacDonald.”
“How much are we talking about?” Councilman Mitchell demands.
“There are five hundred acres, and we’d like to offer five thousand dollars an acre.” The murmuring starts again, so I hurry to add, “Which may not be enough, being that the arena is also on that property. If Mr. MacDonald is hoping to capitalize on the Ice Breakers, we may have to come up with more.”
I gesture toward Jamie, Troy, and Dale. “We have representatives here from the Ice Breakers who are going to start us off by hosting a bachelor auction.”
Mrs. Fishman’s eyes practically bug out of her head. “We’re going to sell men?” She sounds more excited than disturbed by the idea. I look at her closely to see if I read her reaction right.Yup, she’s practically salivating.
“The Ice Breakers are getting a lot of media attention these days, Mrs. Fishman, so we’re hoping to bring in big dollars from outside Maple Falls for this.”
Councilman Dryer, who used to be my dentist when I was a kid, raises his hand. “You think we can raise over two mil selling hockey players?”
“Again, Dr. Dryer, we’re not selling them. We’re merely renting them for an evening.”
Coach Hauser calls out, “A couple of hours, tops.”
Jamie inserts, “Forty-five minutes.”
I wave them both off. “We’ll work out the particulars later. But no, Dr. Dryer, we are not going to make all the money with this one endeavor. We’re going to need the town’s participation. That’s why we’re here—to brainstorm fundraising ideas, as well as to figure out how to tell everyone what’s going on.”
Anxiety is clearly running high, which makes me glad we started small and didn’t invite the whole town right off the bat. That would have been a huge circus.
In the end, we decide the best way to share this information is through the local newspaper. That way people can read the facts, and the story won’t alter between tellings. That’s not to say folks won’t gossip and start adding to the tale, but at least there will be something on record to support the truth.
“What if the heir reads the story and finds out what we’re doing? Won’t that tip him off?” Mrs. Fishman wants to know.
Picking up a piece of paper, I fan it across my face. “He’s going to find out anyway, Mrs. Fishman. I’m going to talk to his lawyer to see if he’s even willing to consider an offer. In the meantime, we’re going to start raising money in hopes that he will.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Phillip demands. “What then, Ashlyn?”
Inhaling deeply, I tell the room, “Then we’ll find another way.”
