Page 39 of The Aura Answer
“There’s nothing Block owns that isn’t mortgaged to the hilt,” Roark argued. “He has nothing to offer.”
“He had power until we took it away.” Jax taped up an image of Layman and the city council.
Reuben scrolled through more documents. “Someone did a damned good job trying to put Block back into power. Larraine’s opponent tried to overturn the election. A mob of out of towners tried to influence the judge into releasing Block—and maybe into overturning the recount? Both the governor and the council detest Larraine. Before he died, Block was the only one with the influence to control this town. Larraine’s hands are tied unless she gives the council what they want in return for what she wants. No one’s approached her about backscratching. Seems like the powerbrokers would want Block alive.”
“But if it became evident that Mr. Blockwouldn’tregain control, did he become a potential liability because he knew too much?” Nick asked, because it seemed obvious.
“Possibly.” Jax added the image of Judge Rhodes and Turlock Sr. next to Layman’s. “Someone may still be pursuing whatever the goal is without Block.”
“Layman’s habit is to make grandiose promises of investment potential,” Roark reported. “Since he drains his properties of cash, they inevitably end up bankrupt. That leaves the banks selling his assets, usually for half what’s owed, and the contractors with empty pockets. Only someone really stupid or desperate for influence would actually give him money.”
“Influence,” Nick repeated, getting into this brainstorming. “He trades for influence—a council that does his bidding receives a piece of the action, a judge who upholds needed legislation is rewarded with a share, a landowner with nearby property who stands to make a killing...”
“You think like a crook, Brit boy.” Reuben nodded approvingly.
“Takes one to know one,” Nick muttered. He’d known his cousins weren’t on the up and up. He’d ignored the signs because he’d loved the money. And the women. The line between him and the felonious Arthur Block was thin.
He had no clue how to survive without making deals. What the bloody hell did he do with his life now?
Roark hit up his computer. “We went through Block’s files searching on that FL you found. It’s looking like this FL was a client hunting real estate. Because of Block’s arrest, the computer doesn’t have anything more recent than last spring. But FL could stand for Franklin Layman. They may have been working together since last spring. The properties they looked at were all over. If he bought anything, it’s not under FL, but we did find something interesting.”
Everyone waited as Roark printed out a list.
“The files are thick, but here’s a list of what appear to be parcel numbers.” Roark handed it to Jax, who glanced down and shook his head.
Reuben took the list and began typing into a website. “First parcel is owned by Patel and mortgaged toFLAB? Flab? Are you kidding me? What kind of mortgage company calls itself fat? As in fat cats?”
“If Ariel’s file is correct, FLAB is a mortgage company holding the deeds to half the property in Afterthought. It was created last year when Arthur Block was putting together his development plans for Witch Hill.” Roark opened the folder on his computer. “FLAB, as in Franklin Layman Arthur Block LLC. All the mortgages were transferred from Block’s name to this corporation.”
“Crap.” Jax looked over Roark’s shoulder. “Block needed funds and offered up all the property he holds a mortgage on? Why the hell didn’t these people go through a real bank?”
“How many people have the cash to make down payments on houses and office buildings?” Reuben asked, still working through the parcels as far as Nick could tell.
Nick was here to attest that only people who had money could borrow money, but that seemed obvious as well.
“So Block literally owns half of Afterthought?” Jax asked in incredulity. “I thought Loretta’s parents did.”
“Which may be why Arthur thought he owned Witch Hill—he owns everything else.” Reuben sat back and glared at his computer. “Loretta’s parents might even have been trying to prevent him from acquiring more. Not everyone’s land is mortgaged. If I’m reading the parcel map correctly, this house is free and clear, as is the Psychic Solutions shop. But your accountant friend’s office building isn’t, Jax. A lot of those buildings on Main Street are mortgaged through FLAB. No wonder Block had influence. He owned these guys.”
Nick studied the image of the parcel map on Reuben’s computer. “Bertie’s scenes were mostly on the east side of town, Gracie said. That’s where most of those highlighted parcels are.”
Jax slapped an image of a fancy resort with palm trees on the wall. “Mayor Block’s goal was always to make Afterthought a destination for rich city dwellers, with the hopes they’d drive up the value of his cotton fields.”
“But his mortgages were already underwater when he transferred them to the LLC.” Roark sipped his beer.
“And his property is mostly downtown or on the north side, away from the interstate, unlike the Satterwhite farm.” Reuben started tapping fast on his keyboard. “Which isn’t mortgaged at all.”
Jax glared at his suspect wall. “I won’t go into tax laws, but it’s possible, if she was convinced it was for the good of the community, Mrs. S might trade her prime eastside land for theLLC’s ragtag collection and some other bits that might become valuable...”
Nick interrupted Jax. “First, they’d have to frighten off everyone using Mrs. Satterwhite’s property so she didn’t feel as if she were putting people out of their homes and businesses.”
“Bingo,” Reuben whispered. “Get rid of the Antique Barn, the Walkers—what else is there? Then she’s receiving no rent. The devil stops by and whispers in her ear. Why not trade—if it’s good for the community and it’s not taxable.”
“We need to talk to Mrs. S,” Nick said flatly.
“Mavis,” the others cried in unison.
Fifteen
