“And let’s be honest. Look around you. They’d be happier living here.”
“Doubtful, but maybe,” Adam said. “But see, in the United States, the government doesn’t decide what makes a man happy. The government doesn’t decide that a couple who worked hard and bought their own home and raised their family would now be happier living somewhere else.”
The smile slowly returned to Gush’s face. “May I be blunt for a moment, Adam?”
“What, you haven’t been so far?”
“How much?”
Adam steepled his fingers and did his best movie villain voice. “One billion dollars.”
“I’m serious. Now, I could play games and do it the way the developer asked me to—bargain with you, go up in ten-thousand-dollar increments. But let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I’ve been authorized to increase the offer by another fifty thousand dollars.”
“And I’ve been authorized to tell you no.”
“You’re being unreasonable.”
Adam didn’t bother responding.
“You know that a judge already gave us the okay on our eminent domain case, right?”
“I do.”
“And that Mr. Rinsky’s previous attorney already lost the appeal. That’s why he’s gone now.”
“I know that too.”
Gush smiled. “Well, you leave me no choice.”
“Sure I do,” Adam said. “You don’t just work for the developer, do you, Gush? You’re a man of the people. So build your strip mall around his house. Change the plans. It can be done.”
“No,” Gush said, the smile gone now. “It can’t.”
“So you’ll throw them out?”
“The law is on my side. And after the way you guys have behaved?” Gush leaned in close enough for Adam to smell the Tic Tac and whispered, “With pleasure.”
Adam stepped back, nodding. “Yeah, I figured that.”
“So you’ll listen to reason?”
“If I ever hear it.” Adam gave a little wave and turned to go. “Have a good night, Gush. We’ll talk again soon.”
Chapter 17
The stranger hated to do this one.
But Michaela Siegel, who was now weaving her way into view, deserved to know the truth before she made a terrible mistake. The stranger thought about Adam Price. He thought about Heidi Dann. They may have been devastated by his visit, but this time, in the case of Michaela Siegel, it would be much, much worse.
Or maybe not.
Maybe Michaela would feel relief. Maybe, after the initial devastation, the truth would set her free. Maybe the truth would bring back balance to her life and put her back on the road she should and would have taken.
You never knew how someone would react until the pin in the grenade was pulled out, right?
It was late, nearly two in the morning. Michaela Siegel hugged her noisy friends good-bye. They were all somewhat inebriated from that night’s festivities. The stranger had already tried twice earlier to get Michaela alone. It hadn’t worked. He hoped that now she might head for the elevator by herself, and he could start the process.
Michaela Siegel. Age twenty-six. She was in her third year of residency in internal medicine at Mount Sinai Hospital after graduating from Columbia University College of Physicians and Surgeons. She had started as an intern at Johns Hopkins Hospital, but after what happened, she and the hospital administrator felt that it would be best for all if she switched locations.
As she semistumbled toward the elevator, the stranger stepped into view. “Congratulations, Michaela.”
She turned with a crooked smile. She was, he already knew, a rather sexy woman, which in a sense made this violation all the worse. The stranger felt a flush in his cheeks, remembering what he had seen, but he pushed on.
“Hmm,” she said.
“Hmm?”
“Are you serving me with a subpoena or something?”
“No.”
“And you’re not hitting on me, are you? I’m engaged.”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so,” Michaela Siegel said. There was the slight slur of drink in her voice. “I don’t really talk to strangers.”
“I get that,” he said, and because he feared losing her, he dropped the bombshell. “Do you know a man named David Thornton?”
Her face slammed shut like a car door. The stranger had anticipated that. “Did he send you?” she asked.
The slur was gone from her voice.
“No.”
“Are you some kind of weird perv or something?”
“No.”
“But you’ve seen—”
“Yes,” he said. “Just for two seconds. I didn’t watch it all or stare or anything. It was just . . . I had to make sure.”