Neighborhood Watch (6 page)

determination, but all the pictures he had of her were small. She always let his father believe he was the head of the household, the power and authority, even though it was she who came up with the strategies that made them wealthy. It was actually his mother who had given Philip the idea to develop a picturesque, secure community around Emerald Lake. Too bad she never lived to see the dream become a reality.

To the right of the desk was a drafting table upon which was a scaled model of Emerald Lakes. Sometimes Philip would stand over it and gaze down on the miniature homes,

feeling like a god, gigantic. He was filled with a sense of power and control. Anytime he wanted, he could add a street here, change a street there, extend a fence, build a wall, turn lights on and off, plant grass on the common grounds or change the landscaping. Across his office on the far wall was a large aerial photograph of Emerald Lakes—the

development, the lake, and the surrounding roads—which reinforced this deific feeling.

Aside from that photo, some architectural plans on the cork board, and a few plaques he had been given by community organizations for his contributions and achievements, the walls were bare. Across from his desk were two nail-head brown leather chairs and a brown leather settee. There were no ashtrays. Philip forbid smoking in his presence.

He leaned forward to speak into the intercom.

“Yes, Lorraine?”

“Mrs. Del Marco is here to see you. She says it’s urgent.”

“Send her right in,” he said and put his documents down only a moment before Angela Del Marco thrust open his office door and marched in, her sharp, high heels clicking over the hardwood floor. The tall, dark-haired woman fixed her furious eyes on him. Her lips were pressed so firmly together, the corners of her mouth whitened. She was a bit taller than Marilyn, but stouter and far less graceful. Right now she looked like she might lunge over the desk at him and tackle him like a football defensive end.

“What can I do for you, Angela?” he asked, twisting his lips into a tight smile.

“You can do something about this,” she said and thrust the citation at him. It floated quickly down on his desk. Although he knew what it was, he picked it up and read it.

“Actually,” he said, sitting back, “you’re the only one who can do anything about it now.

Make out a check and get it over with.” He put the citation down as close to the edge of the desk as he could.

“This is ridiculous. Who does Nikki Stanley think she is sending me a . . . a fine?”

“It’s legal and correct, Angela, and it isn’t Nikki Stanley; it’s the Neighborhood Watch committee after a unanimous decision, I might add.”

“But—”

“As I understand it, and correct me if I’m wrong, Nikki did attempt to settle this with you beforehand.”

“And I told her my children have a right to play at their own home.”

“Of course they do, Angela, but that’s not the issue, is it? Just imagine for a moment, if everyone in the development dangled old cans and baskets from their house roofs. You’ve ridden along some of these country roads where the zoning laws are so loose people can do almost anything they want. You’ve seen the houses with broken-down automobiles on their front lawns, houses with cheap signs advertising some home business, houses with mangy lawns, rusted swings, and you know what it’s like for people who have nice

homes nearby. Their real estate values go in the sewer and their equity and life savings along with it.”

“But all we’re doing—”

“Is hanging a basket off a roof, I know. But a flood starts with a little leak, doesn’t it, and then the leak grows bigger and bigger until what do you have?” he asked in a reasonable tone of voice.

“Now,” he continued, pulling out his lower right desk drawer and reaching in to bring out a Xeroxed pamphlet. “If you go back into your Emerald Lakes suggested yard items, you will note that we included a basketball pole and net. It’s on page four and there are even stores suggested.”

“Steve was the one who suggested the homemade hoop to the boys. He said when he was growing up, that’s what he and his friends had, and we thought it was good that the boys learned to make do with things and not have us buy them expensive toys and equipment all the time. Steve says—”

“That was fine for Steve when he was growing up in an urban neighborhood, but Steve’s a man of some stature in the community now and you live in the most desirable

development in the area, if not in the whole state. It’s different,” Philip said firmly.

“Frankly, I was disappointed to hear Nikki tell me about your attitude. We’re only trying to ensure that your home, as well as our homes, maintains its value. The people in

Emerald Lakes, including your family, have a great deal of their financial well-being invested in their houses.”

Angela relaxed her shoulders and picked up the citation.

“The fine’s not going to break us, but I resent it,” she insisted.

“Fines are the only way to urge people to do what’s best for themselves as well as for the rest of us. Unfortunately,” he added.

“I still resent it,” she said. “Nikki Stanley enjoys doing this.”

“Enjoys it?” Philip shook his head. “Angela, don’t you think Nikki resented your

attitude? She’s not being paid to serve on the Neighborhood Watch committee. She and the others volunteer their time, time they could devote to their own families and their own self-interests.”

“I thought you said it was in all our self-interests to live up to the Covenants, Conditions, and Restrictions,” Angela snapped. Philip felt himself redden.

“It is, but it still takes some sacrifice to devote the time and the energy for the good of us all,” he said. “Besides,” he concluded, sitting back again, “if you have any disagreements with the committee’s finding, you can attend the next meeting of the trustees and appeal the decision.”

“It’s the same group of people!” she exclaimed, holding out her hands. Philip was silent.

“And besides, Philip, you know as well as everyone else in the development that what you decide is what the committee decides.”

Philip’s eyes widened with indignation.

“That’s not true. Everyone on my committee has a mind of his or her own and—”

“Everyone on YOUR committee.” Angela stuffed the citation into her purse. “I’ll send in the money. I wouldn’t want to cause any more major trouble and upset
your
committee.

Thanks for your help,” she said and spun around. He watched her leave, closing the door hard behind her.

He wasn’t as angry with her as he was with himself. Philip had misjudged the Del

Marcos and this was his second mistake. He never counted the Ricks as a mistake

because they had built and bought before the formation of the homeowners association and the Neighborhood Watch. Once he realized what they were going to be like, he

simply bought them out. He had to give them a handsome profit, but in the long run, the investment was worth it. But the Feinbergs and now the Del Marcos, they were different.

They were permitted to become members of Emerald Lakes homeowners association.

Actually, he shouldn’t be so hard on himself, he thought. The Feinbergs and the Del Marcos were residents before he and the committee had established the new preview

procedures. They learned too late about Sol Feinberg and now he was learning too late about Steve Del Marco. He thought the man was more dominant in his household and

Angela was a team player. Why did Steve permit his wife to come here to argue with

him? The fact that Steve didn’t call to complain or come with his wife proved that his heart wasn’t in rebellion and defiance.

Steve Del Marco was one of the more successful insurance agents in the area. Philip had directed a great deal of business his way. He didn’t expect anything for it. It was important to him that his residents be financially successful. But as an insurance man, Steve should realize how important maintaining the value of property was.

Of course, Philip couldn’t move in with these people to see what their home lives were really like, but he could see now that he couldn’t make any logical conclusions. People didn’t act logically or reasonably, even if the outcome would benefit them. That’s why they needed the best CC and R’s and why they needed all the preview procedures. It was important to know as much about the prospective residents as possible, and in this, the day and age of computer tracking, he would send out his detective to penetrate the walls of privacy as much as possible.

Actually, Philip admitted to himself, he was furious. Who did she think she was barging in on him like that and then slamming the door on the way out? And all that sarcasm . . .

why did he have to endure it? Spoiled, selfish, immature behavior, that’s what it was. And damn if he would tolerate it.

He reached for the Emerald Lakes directory, which was always just to his right on his desk, and looked up Steve Del Marco’s work number. He poked out the combination

quickly and leaned back in his chair.

“Steve Del Marco, please,” he said when the receptionist answered. “Tell him Philip Slater.” He drummed the arm of his chair with his fingers, his gaze focusing on the tiny spot in the aerial photograph that he knew to be the Del Marcos’ residence. “Steve. Sorry to bother you at work, but I was just interrupted myself, and by your wife.”

“Oh,” Steve Del Marco said, his voice quickly losing whatever light tone it had. “I’m sorry. She threatened to do that this morning, but I thought I had talked her out of it. I’m sorry, Philip.”

“There’s a time and a place for these things,” Philip said sternly, not satisfied with the repentance. “I’m the president of our homeowners association, but that’s not my full-time job. I have a company to run.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll speak to her.”

“I wish you would and I wish you would talk to her about her attitude. We’re all in this together, Steve.”

“Understood.”

“What’s good for one is good for everyone at Emerald Lakes, and what’s good for

everyone is good for one. It’s always been that way and it always will be. No one’s out to discriminate against an individual resident.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Philip.”

“We’re always trying to help each other,” Philip continued. He knew that sometimes he sounded like an evangelist, preaching to his residents, but from time to time, they needed a little preaching.

“You’re right. She was overreacting. She’s been a little on edge lately. Her younger brother’s getting a divorce. He’s got three children, all under ten, and—”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but my committee is not anyone’s whipping boy.”

“Of course not.”

“Cooperation, that’s the key word at Emerald Lakes. I wish you would have a little

discussion with Angela about it,” he insisted.

“I will.”

Philip felt his anger recede, and as always when he had a compliant resident who offered no resistance, no arguments after a dressing down, he began to feel a bit generous, as generous as a father who had driven his lesson home and now wanted his child to love him again.

“I’m sending someone over to see you later today,” he said. “Bob Morrison. He’s

managing a small printing company in Wurtsboro and I think he’s paying too much for employee health insurance. I told him you were the man to see.”

“Thank you, Philip. I appreciate the referral. I’ll be happy to help him. I’m really sorry about Angela. It won’t happen again.”

“Good. I like Angela, and Marilyn always says nice things about her, too. It bothers me whenever we have any dissension at Emerald Lakes, especially since the ugly business with Sol Feinberg,” Philip said. Steve was silent. “Well, I don’t want to take up any more of your time or any more of my own with this.”

“I understand,” Steve said. “Thanks again.”

Philip cradled the phone and clasped his hands as he put his elbows on the desk. He lowered his chin to his knuckles and stared at the aerial photograph. Viewing it from the air, the way the property was delineated, it took on the shape of a head, a shape similar to his own, he thought. Was that just accidental or was it some divine sign?

He shifted his eyes slowly to the space on the wall where his little boy’s picture had once hung. He stared at it, blinking rapidly. Marilyn didn’t want to try to have another child.

She harbored a fear that he or she would be taken, too. Or was that his fear?

If there was only a way to build a wall so high nothing evil could enter Emerald Lakes, no disease as well as no criminal element.

Damn that Angela Del Marco. Why couldn’t she see what he wanted for all of them: a

wall, protection, a sense of security which meant that they could harvest happiness in their homes? Philip wasn’t confident about her husband bringing the message home and getting her with the program. He would need help. But that was all right. Help was at hand.

He lifted the receiver and tapped out a number.

“Hello, Philip,” Nikki said. He smiled, knowing she had one of those identification devices so she could see who was calling before she picked up the receiver. She didn’t let the phone ring twice when she realized it was him.

“Nikki, Angela Del Marco just left my office, upset with the citation.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Nikki said.

“Well, it does me,” he said sharply. “It always surprises and disappoints me when one of our own residents is uncooperative.”

“I understand, Philip. It upsets me, too,” she admitted once she saw his gist.

“I want the Del Marcos to know how lucky they are to have a Neighborhood Watch

committee looking after their interests as well as everyone else’s.”

“Of course, Philip.”

“And the best way to drive that home is to scrutinize them even more closely for a while so they understand completely where they are.”

“All right. I’ll speak with the others and have everyone give them a second and third look from time to time. I know their backyard fence is overdue for a whitewash.”

“See that they know that and give them a deadline. We can be lenient only with those who appreciate leniency and respect our codes and property values.”