The Major's Wife (Jubilant Falls series Book 2) by Debra Gaskill Page B

would I? What was my real reason? To salvage a failing ego? Rebuild myself in my best friend's and my boss's eyes? Remind him that I was the real journalist we both remembered? Or simply to make myself look good in the eyes of the woman I loved?
    * * *
    Elizabeth's eyes were shining, as she opened the door.
    "Mizzer Henning! They were here today!" she crowed triumphantly. "Wait! Who did 'at to you?"
    "Never mind. Who was here?"
    "A man to fix my apartment! Look!" Her bony finger indicated two new panes of glass in the living room window.
    "Did he do anything else? Did he leave his name? A card?"
    She shook her head to all three questions, but she was clearly thrilled that at least something had been accomplished. "But he said he come back and do the rest real soon!"
    "Good. The man that you give your rent money to, did he come with the repair man?"
    She shook her head again.
    "That's okay. He sure didn't waste any time." So my visit made a difference. I only hoped Aurora Development would complete the job. "Elizabeth, do you happen to know his name?"
    She puckered her sallow brow. "It was on his desk."
    "Desk? What desk? The office was empty when I was there this morning." Damn it, this was getting weird.
    Elizabeth opened her arms wide. "Big brown desk, right inside the door."
    "And it's there on the first of the month, when you go to pay your rent?"
    "Uh-huh."
    That's strange. "Listen, I have to get back to the newsroom. It looks as though things here are on the upswing. If someone doesn't come back in the next week or so to start the rest of the repairs, you let me know."
    I wanted to believe that my one confrontation had caused all of this activity, but a niggling voice deep inside said that I had not heard the end of this.
    At the clerk of courts office, I learned Aurora Development was a tangle of dummy corporations that ended with a firm called Land Management Limited. The owners were not listed, just the names of Martin Rathke of Rathke, Fitzsimmons, Wyler and Dean, the prominent legal firm in Jubilant Falls.
    A bunch of lawyers wouldn't be so stupid as to be messed up in trash housing, would they? Or is it all a front for someone else?
    Rathke, Fitzsimmons had a large staff of fresh, starving young attorneys who handled most of their corporate legal affairs in Jubilant Falls, as well as ninety percent of the civil cases. Privately, Jess and I referred to them as the Thundering Herd. The senior partner Martin Rathke was a large man, resembling not so much your average well-to-do barrister as a remnant from the days of snake oil salesmen and hanging judges.
    I remembered our crime reporter John Porter asking once why Rathke never ran for a judgeship.
    "He's got more power right where he is," an old-timer had cryptically answered. I hadn’t understood, at the time. I was too busy writing up weddings and engagements. I could use the old guy's knowledge here and now, but he died a few months after his retirement, from a heart attack finishing his final fishing trip off the Gulf Coast. Instead, I made a call.
    "Rathke, Fitzsimmons, Wyler and Dean."
    "Martin Rathke, please."
    "May I ask who's calling?"
    "Marcus Henning, Jubilant Falls Journal-Gazette ."
    "One moment." There was a click, as I was put on hold and music to drill teeth by played in my ear.
    Halfway through some mindless string arrangement, there was another click, and Rathke's oily voice came on the line.
    "Good afternoon, Mr. Henning. What can I do for you?"
    "Mr. Rathke, can you tell me who wons Land Management Limited, the company behind Aurora Development?"
    "Son, that's privileged information. I can't tell you that," he chortled.
    "Can you tell me if the people behind Land Management are aware of the condition their tenants live under?"
    "I'm sure they are, son. What's this all about?"
    "I have spoken with a woman who claims to have repeatedly contacted Aurora Development about repairs on her apartment, and they’ve not been completed. Do you have any