The Blackstone Chronicles Read Online Free Page B

The Blackstone Chronicles
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imagine what would happen.”
    “A run,” Oliver said. “Could you stand one?”
    Jules Hartwick shrugged. “Probably. If it got bad, we might lose our independence. In the end, none of our depositors would lose a cent, but we’d be folded into one of the big regional banks and become just one more small branch with no flexibility to do things our way.”
    “Your way seems to have gotten us all into a fine mess, if you ask me,” Bill McGuire said. “What am I supposed to tell my people, Jules? That the jobs they’ve been counting on have simply evaporated? Not to mention my own job.” Though this time he managed to stay in his chair, his voice began to rise. “Do you have any idea how much work I turned down to make this project happen? Any idea at all? I’m already stretched tight, Jules. The new baby’s due in a month, and I—” Abruptly, he cut short the tirade he’d been working up to, recognizing the genuine pain the banker was feeling. What, after all, was the point of yelling at Jules? Once again he forced himself to calm down. “Do you have any idea how long it might be?” he asked in a more reasonable voice. “Is this just a temporary funding freeze, or is the project done for?”
    Hartwick was silent for a long time, but finally spread his hands helplessly. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m hoping it’s only for a week or so, but I can’t promise you anything.” He hesitated, then forced himself to finish. “There’s a possibility it could be months.”
    The banker kept talking in an effort to explain, but Bill McGuire was no longer listening. Instead his mind was already working, trying to figure out what to do next.
    This afternoon he’d drive up to Port Arbello and see if there was any chance of bidding on the condominium project he’d turned down three weeks ago. Although that project wasn’t supposed to start until spring, if he could secure the job, its financing would tide them over for a while. And while he was up there, maybe he’d talk to the developers behind the condo project about finding new financing for the Blackstone project.
    “Well, what do you think?” he asked Oliver Metcalf twenty minutes later as they left the bank. “Is it all over even before it starts?”
    Metcalf shook his head. “Not if I have anything to do with it. All I’m going to run is a small article to the effect that the project is being held up, maybe imply that thereare some permits not in place yet. Then we’ll see what happens.”
    Nodding, McGuire turned away and started up Amherst Street. He hadn’t taken more than a couple of steps when Metcalf called out to him.
    “Bill? Give my love to Elizabeth and Megan. And try not to worry. Things will work out.”
    McGuire forced a smile, wishing he could share Oliver Metcalf’s optimism.

Chapter 3
    O liver Metcalf was already starting to compose his editorial as he left the bank building, but instead of going directly back to his office, he turned in the opposite direction, walking a block farther down Main Street to the corner of Princeton, where the old Carnegie Library still stood in the center of the half acre of land that Harvey Connally’s father had donated nearly a century ago. Though most of the old Carnegie libraries that had sprung up in small towns all over the country had been replaced decades ago by far more modern “media centers,” the one in Blackstone remained as unchanged as the rest of the town. Part of the reason for its preservation was Blackstone’s sense of historic pride; part was lack of funds for modernization. Though there were a few new buildings—“new” being defined as less than fifty years old—most of the town still looked as it had a hundred years ago, some peeling paint and other signs of wear and tear notwithstanding; and some of it had gone unchanged for more than two centuries.
    In Oliver Metcalf’s own memory, nothing about the library had changed at all. Perhaps the trees were a little

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