Turn Over(140)

“I told her you would be willing to convert the sound side property into a natural protected habitat where we could relocate the endangered insects in exchange for the resort permits.”

I clenched my fists and kept my voice low. “That doesn’t work for Lachlan Corporation.”

“It’s going to have to, Mason. If Janet goes public with the endangered insects you’ll have environmentalists showing up faster than you drive. She’ll shut the resort down. You’ll still have the sound property but what are you going to do with that? Nothing. It doesn’t do us any good.”

“There has to be something else she wants. What did you take to the table?”

He shook his head. “She wants more natural areas on the island. And you and I both know that piece of land you bought is the only one available. Set it up as a natural habitat. We get the bugs transported and you can build the resort.”

“But I have nowhere for the residents to go. Ten families need a place to live. Including that Arnie Cratchett. He’s caused a lot of problems.” I knew he was the one who got Janet involved in the first place. “He’s crazy, but people listen to crazy.”

The waitress returned with our plates. I shoved mine out of the way.

The commissioner didn’t seem to have lost his appetite like I had. He bit into his steak sandwich.

“I’ll have someone in my office send over the requirements for the habitat. You’re going to want to get that started right away. You know, as a good faith gesture to Janet.”

I slammed my hand on the table. “I didn’t buy that tract of land to create a bug zoo. It’s for the Cove residents.”

“Not any more, it’s not.”

I stood, tossing my napkin on the table.

“I will find a way around this, Carlos.”

“If you try, you’re going to end up without a resort. I’m telling you. It’s your only option.”

I leaned against the table. “It’s my only option because you didn’t include me in the negotiations.” I stood back, my knuckles white.

“What matters is I saved the jobs.” He was so wrapped up in his campaign promises he was clueless to what he had done.

I stormed out of the restaurant. I didn’t care I had left the commissioner with my bill or an uneaten plate of food. The man had just become an enemy. He would find out what that meant.



The condo had never felt smaller. The walls were closing in. I had talked to everyone on the Lachlan Corporation legal team. We were screwed. There was no way around the damn insect problem.

I made another circle around the kitchen. If I didn’t sign the contract for the bulldozer, I would lose another two weeks of time. They were on a tight schedule to rent the equipment. If I signed it, I was about to displace everyone in the Cove with nowhere for them to go.

I picked up the phone to call Mark.

“Good afternoon, sir. How’s the beach?” He answered on the first ring.

“Mark, I need you to check every real estate tax record on Padre. Find some place I can put a campground.”

“Sir, we did that last week, remember?”

“Do it again. Find something.”

“All right. I had a call from Hattman and Jones. They need your final approval on their schedule. Once you sign the contract, everything will get rolling at the site.”

I sighed. I was stalling. I had to trust that we could find a solution before the equipment rolled into town. I had the best team. I had to trust they could do it.

“All right. I’ll sign it today and have it over-nighted. But, Mark, find a piece of land I can convert. Call before the end of the day.”

“Yes, sir.”

He was hanging on the line, but I cut the call short. I pulled open the manila envelope and stared at the contract.

I knew what this meant. It wasn’t only bad for Lachlan Corporation to go back on the deal, it was going to be bad for me. But the alternative was losing millions. I could afford to do a lot of things, but that wasn’t one of them. With my new venture in the gas and oil market and three properties waiting to be sold, I couldn’t leave Beach Combers Cove undeveloped. I was in a corner.

This could go one of two ways. Knowing the kind of man I was, I knew which option I would choose. The one I always chose. Decisions like this one came to me naturally. At least they used to. They should. I wasn’t the type to get bogged down in ethics—or consequences. Not the emotional kind anyway. I analyzed the black and the red of a deal. Nothing else mattered.

I prided myself on the size of my bank account, not the number of friends I had. I could spot a liar a mile away. A swindler even farther. Call it natural instincts. Call it growing up with a liar as a father.