Leslie LaFoy Read Free

course was to sell the land itself in an attempt to recoup the loss. If a buyer couldn't be found, they'd let the bank have it.
    The second letter was from an architect who wanted payment for the design phase of a large renovation project being undertaken on the home of Mr. Henry MacPhaull. With clenched teeth, Lindsay moved it to the bottom of the stack. Richard wordlessly placed the cup and saucer on the wide arm of the divan.
    The third piece of correspondence was from a man on Long Island who indicated that he would be most happy to sell Miss Agatha MacPhaull the land she wanted. He considered seventeen hundred dollars a very fair price and was instructing his attorney to draw up a bill of sale. Seventeen hundred dollars? Lindsay skimmed the letter again. For five acres? Perhaps in the center of the city, but certainly not for land on Long Island. In fifty years, seventeen hundred dollars might be a reasonable price, but not now. Besides, she didn't have the money. Lindsay expelled a long breath and took a careful sip of her coffee before going on to the rest of the news awaiting her.
    The Emerson Bank of Ohio was demanding immediate and full payment from the investors in the Todasca Canal Company. The project had been abandoned and the managers had taken themselves to parts unknown. The bank showed the MacPhaull Company as having a fifteen percent interest in the concern and thus owing twenty thousand dollars of the outstanding debt.
    Todasca had been Henry's idea. An old school chum had been the head of the firm and Henry had made an absolute pest of himself about it, eventually wearing down herpatience. Against her better judgment she'd agreed to invest, just to get him out of the office.
    Her blood pounding, Lindsay went to the last letter. Heavy spring rains had combined with a rapid thaw and led to widespread flooding in western Virginia. The MacPhaull Coal Company managers had been forced to suspend operations until the mines could be pumped out and the lost and damaged machinery replaced. They roughly estimated the temporary loss of revenues at forty thousand dollars, the cost of salvaging and rebuilding at another forty.
    Her stomach leaden, she laid the stack of papers in her lap. She'd have to find the money to replace the machinery and get the mines operational again. There wasn't any other choice. The annual income from the mines last year had been close to a quarter of a million dollars, the revenues providing the fiscal foundation of the MacPhaull Company.
    With cup and saucer in hand, she took a steadying breath and said, “What are we going to do, Richard? We don't have the cash reserves to meet these expenses.”
    “The first thing we're going to do,” Richard answered briskly, “is put an end to Henry's renovations and Agatha's land acquisition.”
    “Agreed.” Despite knowing the soundness of the course, she inwardly cringed. The scenes would be horrible. Henry and Agatha had never learned the difference between wanting and needing.
    “Then there are a few properties we might consider selling,” Richard continued, obviously having given the matter a great deal of thought before she'd arrived. “Henry's yacht, for instance. And Agatha's cottage at the shore. Neither produces revenue; they just consume it. Both are expenses the company can ill-afford given the present circumstances. Selling will not only give us needed cash but free up future money that can be used to keep the revenue-producing ventures in operation.”
    Having her sister out of the house for several months every year was a bit of heaven Lindsay was reluctant to surrender. But times were hard, she reminded herself sternly. Sacrifices were necessary. So was practicality. “Agatha leaves for the cottage in a couple of weeks and it's too lateto change her plans. She won't cooperate in the selling, and being in residence will put her in a position to undermine the effort. I suggest we postpone putting the property up until after she