The Real Macaw: A Meg Langslow Mystery

us.”
    “They might,” I said. “Or they might try to cut a deal with the mayor. What if they offered to trade all the town buildings back if he got the county to seize some property that the bank really wants—some waterfront property and a few hundred acres of prime farmland. A tract of land one of their other customers might find useful—say a real-estate developer who’s been hankering to build fancy condominiums and a golf course in Caerphilly County and has been beating its head for years against the county’s antidevelopment stance.”
    Randall frowned and pondered for a few moments.
    “Can they do that?” he asked finally. “Seize private property to give it to a developer. Seems … un … un…”
    “Unconstitutional?”
    “I was thinking just plain un-American. Can they really do it?”
    “I don’t know,” I said. “It has worked in some places. And even if it doesn’t work, you can bet fighting it will cost the moon and take forever.”
    “And the whole time that sneaky bastard of a mayor will be doing everything he can to help out his developer buddies. Okay, the first thing we have to do is figure out what land they’re targeting and make sure the owners are ready to fight.”
    “I already know that,” I said. “I found the surveyors working on Michael’s and my land and Mother and Dad’s farm.”
    “I reckon you aren’t interested in selling, as much money as you’ve put into the place.”
    “You’re right.” Randall, of course, had a very good idea how much we’d spent, since Shiffley Construction had done most of the work. “They probably want Seth Early’s sheep farm, too, and I hope the surveyors steer clear of him, or they’re likely to see the business end of his shotgun. And they’re talking about waterfront condos. I can’t remember who owns the farms on either side of the road between us and the creek, but they’re very nice farms, and I doubt the owners want to sell.”
    “That would be my cousins, Orville and Renfrew on the east side of the road,” he said. “And you’re right. Likely as not they’d join Seth’s shotgun brigade at the mere mention of building condos and a golf course on their land. And the farm on the west side of the road belongs to Deacon Washington of the New Life Baptist Church. Just try to pry him off that land—I think his family’s been there since just after the war—and this time I do mean the Civil War. Okay, we know who the developers are after—now we need a lawyer.”
    “I already called one,” I said. “Festus Hollingsworth. One of Mother’s cousins.”
    “No offense, but we probably need a pretty high-caliber lawyer,” Randall said. “You think your mother’s cousin is up to it?”
    “Cousin Festus is pretty high caliber,” I said. “He specializes in making life miserable for sleazy developers and their corrupt friends in local governments. Makes a very good living at it. Wait till you see this year’s Jaguar. If anyone’s up to it, he is.”
    “You have a useful kind of family.” His cell phone rang, and he reached for it automatically. “Now what we need to do is— Hang on a minute. I need to take this. Yes, ma’am?”
    I watched Randall’s face as he listened to his caller. His expression went from one of cheerful respect to shock.
    And clearly whoever had called him had a lot to say. Randall did a lot of listening, interjecting an occasional “Yes, ma’am” or “No, ma’am.”
    “I’ll have them there as soon as possible,” he said finally. “Yes, ma’am. You bet!”
    He hung up and stared at the phone for a few seconds.
    “It’s starting,” he said. “That was my aunt Jane.”
    “Judge Jane?” I asked.
    “The same. She just called up and ordered me to bring as many of my trucks as possible down to the courthouse. That financial company gave notice that they’re seizing their collateral Monday morning and kicking everyone out.”
    “And she’s going?”
    “She’s hopping mad, but she says so far she can’t see a clear legal way around it, and she’s damned if she’s going to give them grounds to cause trouble, so she’s moving. Looks like anyone who wants a warrant or needs to pay a traffic ticket will have to go out to her farm for the time being.”
    “Are they starting with the courts, or have they given everybody notice?”
    “Everybody,” he said. “Whole town’s in a tizzy. Aunt Jane called to make sure she and the courts had first dibs on our trucks.