can a frustrated single mom and failed big city journalist save her family and salvage her career by returning to a town run by a gang of bungling thugs?


“The Resurrection of Puerto Cielo” is a novella published in serial form, 43 posts.




27


Lazy and Arnold were nosing the cute poodle as her mistress pushed an envelope through the Star’s mail slot.

“Go away!” scolded the lady under the big white hat as she hurried off dragging the dog behind. There was no exchange of greetings as she passed the watchful Bernie brothers. They’d seen her here before. 

***

Sitting at a table in the corner, Sam was on the phone when Espy arrived in the editor’s office. She was surprised, her dad was not known as an early riser and it was barely eight.

“Don’t worry, Gloria, your mother’s obituary will be in the next edition,” Sam said,. “You’re welcome.”

He set the phone on the table, inserted ear buds, and started typing on a laptop computer.

Espy was amazed that, blind, Sam could do so much. Using the computer’s text to voice application, the computer talked to him as he wrote editorials, sports features and, yes, even the obituaries. His old manual Remington typewriter now collected dust under the table.

Hearing Espy, Sam swiveled in his chair, “What’s next, chief?”

“Coffee,” she said, suddenly aware she needed a stimulant before plopping down for another day’s work. She turned on her heels. Leaving the office she noticed an envelope on the floor by the front door.

Moments later, Sam sat sipping coffee at Espy’s desk as she opened the envelope and read the latest mystery letter, another single page with simple script,

“Ask Alvin about the secret books.”

Espy folded the letter, gulped her coffee, and stood up, “Looks like I’m going back to City Hall.”

***

Little had changed since her last visit to accounting. Sonya still sat with practiced indifference behind her desk. But the young woman had switched from painting nails to plucking eyebrows.

Sonya concentrated on the image in a handheld mirror as tweezers latched on to an errant hair.

“Ouch!” 

Apparently, the hair’s extraction had been painful.

Espy had no sympathy and intruded, “Excuse me.”

Irritated, Sonya looked up, “What is it?”

Once more holding her tongue, Espy simply said, “I’d like to speak with Alvin.”

Staring at Espy, Sonya yelled, “Alvin, get up here!”

Alvin looked up from the chaos on his desk. His eyes immediately recognized Espy. He stood and scurried to meet her.

Taking her arm, he guided her away from nosy ears.

“Yes, what is it?” he whispered.

Espy whispered back, “We don’t seem to have fixed the previous problem. I’m sure you can straighten this out.”

With that, she handed Alvin the latest mystery letter.

He read the paper. Frowned. Looking back at Espy, he mumbled, “Just a moment,” and retreated to his station.

Returning, he handed the letter back to Espy. She noticed beads of sweat on his brow. 

“Sorry about that,” he muttered, and crept back into hiding.

***

Did Alvin think this was some kind of spy movie? No matter, Espy thought, walking towards another night time rendezvous. So far his information had been golden and she was hoping for more.

Once again, somebody was lurking in the shadows as she approached Tommy’s Tacos.

She strode across the sand.

Alvin pulled her deeper into darkness, glancing around to ensure their isolation.

He handed her an envelope.

Espy noticed his hand was shaking.

He said angrily, “Here is everything you need to bring them down. Everything to expose the crooks who have been stealing from the city.”

“What do you mean stealing?” Espy asked. “How?”

“There are two sets of books, one for the public, one for the crooks. Every time the City puts out a contract for work or supplies and equipment, there are two costs. A higher one which shows up on the official records, and a lower one which is what is actually paid to the contractors and suppliers. The difference is pocketed by the corrupt officials. The unofficial books account for these differences so that the crooks know each of them is getting their ‘fair share’ of the swindle.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“For years, as long as I’ve been working here.”

“So, why are you sharing this now?”

Alvin lashed out, “I’ve had enough. I did their dirty work for years, hoping I’d get a cut, but I never even got a raise. Then, they hired Sonya, the mayor’s niece. She’s worthless and they pay her more than me for doing absolutely nothing.”

He caught his breath, then spat out, “I’ve had it. I’m done. I’m out of here.”

Alvin looked around, pulled his fedora low on his head, pushed hands into trench coat pockets, and disappeared in the darkness.

Really, Espy thought, he’s going overboard with the spy thing.

***

It was two in the morning before she finally made sense of what Alvin had given her.

There were dozens of accounting spreadsheets, with highlights on every page. She sorted them into public and secret and soon caught on to the patterns.

She saw how Prado Construction was supposedly paid one amount for the Pump House Project, but the secret pages showed Prado was paid much less, including a note cancelling final payment for “construction deficiencies.”

The same was true for contracted repair work, furniture, office supplies and equipment. On and on, millions of pesos secreted away in the past two years.

And this was just on the pages Alvin had printed out. There was also a thumb drive with documentation of even more years of criminal deceit.

She smiled when she saw the most current item listed on the public ledger.

Alvin had given himself a hefty retirement bonus. Fat chance that money would be coming back.

Astonished, Espy sat back in her chair.

This was big.

Very big.

***

When Sam came in with the morning coffee, he found Espy pounding out the corruption story. He sat as she explain the dummy contracts, the kickbacks, the junket trips, the city goods and services that had gone to private parties.

“And add to all that, the mayor’s mistress on the city payroll, along with who knows how many other worthless relatives and friends,” she concluded, standing up to stretch.

“This story is going to upset a lot of people,” he said.

Espy looked down at Sam and said,

“I sure as hell hope so.”

***