Foreclosed: A Mitzy Neuhaus Mystery (A Mitzy Neuhaus Mystery, a Cozy Christian Collection) Read online

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons either living or dead is completely coincidental.

  Foreclosed: A Mitzy Neuhaus Mystery

  Proverbs 31 House LLC

  Edition 4

  Copyright 2009 (5/13 LD)

  All rights reserved

  Cover Photograph by Michael Rothery

  Cover Design by Andrew Rothery

  Dedicated to Daniel, Norah, and Lucy, who love stories.

  Mitzy Neuhaus pulled her desk chair up to the microphone. The radio booth was small, and Johnny, her host, nudged her with his elbow, and smiled. Mitzy slipped her headphones on.

  Johnny Headly, host of the morning show on the local Christian talk radio station began his morning chatter. “Hey, Mitzy, baby. How’s the real estate business?” It was the same every Wednesday morning.

  She smiled her wide, bright smile. “Business is good, John. Not fast, not hectic, not for the fearful, but good.”

  “How can it be good, Mitz?”

  “It’s not perfect, of course.” Mitzy shifted in her seat. “But there are great deals and brilliant Realtors ready to find you one. If you have some equity or savings and are ready to make a move, the best Realtors are reading and waiting.” Mitzy wasn’t just putting a good spin on a bad economy. If only people would grab the houses while they could, Realtors could save the economy.

  “Mitzy is ready and waiting? That sounds too good to be true,” Johnny drawled.

  Mitzy cringed. How did he manage to make that sound so dirty? “Ready and waiting—to sell a house, Johnny.” She wished the radio audience could see her roll her eyes. “It’s all about the money, friend. If you need to get out of your house, a good Realtor can still make you some money. And good Realtors are available.”

  “Mitzy, I’ve been dying to know for years; are you available? And can I change that?”

  “If you need your house sold, John, I’m your girl. Anything else…well, leave your card with my assistant.” Mitzy scrunched her nose at Johnny.

  He winked.

  “But speaking of experienced professionals in the homes industry, I want to spotlight my professional peers who work tirelessly in the mortgage business.”

  “Not those devils that wrecked the economy.”

  “Of course not! The economic crisis has sifted the wheat, and the chaff has blown away. The sub-prime creative loan element has been kicked to the curb.” Mitzy leaned in to the mic and lowered her voice. “But rates are sooo low. If you have any equity, my friends can save you some serious cash each month. I have links on my website to my recommended lenders.” Mitzy leaned back in her desk chair and popped her shoulders. She could run on about the industry forever.

  John gave her the keep going signal.

  “Listen, it’s 2008. Interest rates are less than five percent. Don’t sit there with a 2007 mortgage at seven percent. That’s foolish.”

  “Preach it, sister.” Johnny nodded his head in time to music only he could hear.

  “My job for you all today is this: consider the terms of your current loan, contact your local credit union or check out the links on my website, and see if they can do better for you. It is always the right time to save tens of thousands of dollars.”

  “Thank you, Mitzy. You make common sense look real good.” Johnny chuckled.

  “Thank you?” Mitzy laughed. “I know I talk sense, but if it were common, I don’t think our economy would be in such a mess.”

  With that her spot was over. She turned off her microphone, waved through the window at the producer, and slipped out of the booth.

  Johnny read the police reports from the Vantage Heights neighborhood for a few quick laughs.

  Mitzy didn’t laugh when she thought of Vantage Heights.

  Yes, they called the police when the new neighbor put up a basketball hoop and yes, they called 911 when someone parked a Kia on their block, but too many of them were losing their homes because they never should have bought them in the first place.

  She stifled a laugh as she left the radio station. The week Vantage Heights biddies called 911 on the neighbor who planted corn in the front lawn was pretty funny. But those old biddies weren’t the ones losing their homes.

  The radio station was hurting now, the same way all the local businesses were hurting. Advertising dollars were short all around. As Mitzy pounded the pavement back to her penthouse, she thought it was probably a good time to negotiate for a better spot.

  She wanted a larger audience share, but she didn’t have the time to be on the radio everyday. She considered the Saturday morning line-up. They called it ‘The Fix-it Show.’ She could seriously improve that program. If it was Neuhaus’ All Things New Show or maybe Fixing Your House with Neuhaus, they could keep all of their regular programming and add another spot for her.

  But owning the fix-it weekend wasn’t exactly right either. Mitzy wanted to inform and educate and there just weren’t enough people listening to the radio these days.

  And then Mitzy knew.

  She went straight home and sat down for a late breakfast with her Tivo-ed morning shows. She savored her cup of coffee as she evaluated the First Things with Alma and Bob. They were funny. They were local. They seemed to have their fingers on the pulse of town. Mitzy had always liked their show.

  Everything on their program clicked, except they skirted around the issue of the failing economy. They needed Mitzy and her keen real estate sense. First Things with Alma and Bob was exactly where she needed to be. She tucked this tid-bit into the back of her mind, cleared her dishes and made her way to the office, just on time, for a Wednesday.

  Sabrina, Mitzy’s assistant, sat at her computer studying the multiple listing service site for any recent activity.

  Ben, the graphics artist, was sketching something in his pad. It made no difference to Mitzy what he was working on, but it probably had something to do with his web design consulting.

  Joan, the stager Mitzy loved the best, was in just to chat, but found that there was nothing to talk about.

  Mitzy paced the room, drumming her pencil on her fist, and chewed on the idea of breaking into television.

  Sabrina would be of use in whatever she did. Ben’s work probably wouldn’t increase, but if she could increase confidence in the marketplace, all of their regular work would return to normal.

  Joan.

  She appraised her friend closely. Joan was artistic, no doubt. She was also well-spoken. Mitzy could put Joan on the air in her morning show segment, and Joan could get commission work from the exposure.

  There was nothing wrong with her television idea, as far as she could tell.

  “Sabrina, I need a proposal. We need to get our Neuhaus New Homes Spotlight onto First Things with Alma and Bob.”

  “Ooh, I like that idea,” Joan said. “Mitzy, that’s just the right medium for you. You could spotlight some of your favorite houses, give tours, everything.”

  “I could,” Mitzy said.

  “But you have something else in mind.” Joan raised an eyebrow and leaned in close.

  “I think that this town needs to relax and gain confidence in their ability to survive the crisis. They really can survive, you know.” Mitzy swept her arm out towards the city on the other side of the window, longing to give them all a hand up.

  “Marketplace confidence through First Things? Really, Mitz? We have twelve percent unemployment right now. Who cares what Alma
and Bob think about it?” Ben rocked back in his desk chair.

  “Ah, but, Ben, that’s close to the same thing as eighty-eight percent employment.” Mitzy chewed on the end of her pencil. “There are a lot of people out there with secure jobs, and the ability to invest in their town. They’ve just got to realize they can do it themselves.”

  “You can call the show Bootstrapping with Mitzy the Republican.” Ben smirked.

  “It’s not a political idea, Benjamin.” Mitzy shook her head. “Let’s say your business has just received some money, stimulus money.” Mitzy sat down on the edge of her desk. “Say you are building a new community center. The people in charge need to view that money, not in the light of how much building they can get for it, but as how far they can spread the money into the economy, to create more jobs.” Mitzy’s heart was racing, her face was heating up. It was one of her personal goals to make Ben less of a pessimist.

  “Yeah, yeah. We all know that already.”

  “But it’s the same for people who have savings and business reserves. This is the time to spend our money employing people.” Mitzy started pacing again and drumming her purple fingernails on her tightly clenched fist. “The segment needs to be fun, and touring homes is fun. But it has to increase consumer and investor confidence, or it is completely worthless.”

  The phone rang. Sabrina jumped at the sound. “Neuhaus New Homes. This is Sabrina speaking, how may I help you?” She wore her big smile as she spoke. It was Neuhaus policy; the person on the other line could hear the smile. “Thank you, can you hold?”

  She covered the receiver with her palm and looked up at Mitzy with a little fear in her eyes. “It’s Alonzo.”

  Mitzy grimaced. She had a desk in the front with her staff, but she also had a private office where she could sign papers with clients. She rarely did other business in that office. She turned on her heel and disappeared into it now.

  “I’ve quoted you the lease terms at least three times, Alonzo. You know what it will take to get into my office space.” Mitzy sat on the edge of her desk chair. She had to stay calm.

  “Let’s be realistic, Neuhaus. I want to own the whole building, and you know it. I’ll say a number right now that you can’t refuse. Then you can take your little office friends back to the suburbs.”

  “It’s not for sale.” Mitzy spit the words out. Who was this man to call her business ‘little office friends’? She knew without a doubt that her bottom line was better than his.

  “Everything is for sale.”

  Mitzy took a deep breath. “My tenants need security right now. I am not going to make a move that would threaten their businesses.”

  “Who’s talking about threats? I’m talking money, and a lot of it.”

  “That’s enough. We’ve had this same conversation three times. I’m not selling. You don’t have enough money to tempt me to put my tenants out on the street.”

  “You’re location is perfect for me. Access to building supplies. Access to transportation. Your little street-front shops might have to move, but new tenants would move in and that would be good too. There’s no end of space for little music shops and crafty places.” Alonzo’s voice was suave but it set Mitzy’s teeth on edge.

  “If you need office space you can have the whole top floor. It’s yours. You know my lease terms are fair.” Mitzy closed her eyes and prayed for patience. It was his tone that really had her. He talked to her like she was a child.

  “Maybe if you’d sell me the top.”

  “It’s not for sale. I own this building and that won’t change.”

  “I’m not in a rush, Mitzy. We’ll talk about this again.”

  Mitzy pinched her mouth shut.

  “Now, don’t be upset. Just think of all the shoes you could buy when you sell out to me.”

  Mitzy stood up. “Thank you for your interest in my property. I’m pleased to know that I have something of value. If you are interested in a lease, feel free to call again.”

  Alonzo was silent for a moment. “Oh, we’ll talk.”

  Mitzy didn’t want to be the first to hang up. She waited a half a second longer. “Would you like me to let you know if I hear of a similar property for sale?”

  Alonzo laughed. “You’d be my buyer’s agent?”

  “We could work something like that out.” Mitzy licked her lips. Was he coming around?

  “Oh, darlin’, I have friends in real estate with licenses older than you. Now, don’t get all bent out of shape. My offer is solid. Lots of money. I’ll call back later and I think you’ll be glad I did.” He hung up.

  Bent out of shape! Mitzy stomped around the room, from corner to corner. Bent out of shape! Every month for the last three months he had called her and gotten the same answer. Of course she was bent out of shape. Her building was Not. For. Sale.

  Alonzo thought Mitzy and her building had a lot in common, they both weren’t as young as they used to be, and were highly overrated.

  Unfortunately for Alonzo, he believed that Mitzy’s building was the exact size, location, and opportunity that he needed right now.

  Alonzo knew Mitzy was a successful Realtor. Twenty prime location billboards and a regular radio feature don’t lie. When he realized the housing bubble had burst, he had hoped Mitzy needed to liquidate so he could buy the building he’d had his eye on for so long.

  Unfortunately for him, it appeared that she had resources to carry her through the storm.

  Buying one story would have worked, he supposed, if she hadn’t been so cocky about it. She wouldn’t even listen to his offer!

  The property was all wrong for her business, and just right for his. If she had been willing to listen, she would have heard an offer she couldn’t refuse.

  He stared at his phone. His head had begun to pound. He knit his eyebrows together. What was wrong with that woman, and why would she not sell him her stupid office building?

  Mitzy had no time for vain or condescending men. It was an insult to be asked to sell her building, even part of it.

  Would he have tried that with the Moyer family, who owned a stretch of Downtown Portland? She thought not.

  She may only own one commercial property, but it was hers and hers alone and she was keeping it.

  She stared out the back window. It might not be the best location for Tabby’s ceramic studio, but backing to the stoneworks plant and the lumber mill was priceless to her as a home renovator and probably the only reason Alonzo Miramontes was speaking to her.

  She sighed. It would be different if Alonzo had treated her like a professional peer. She knew of one other building on her block that would have suited him, but only she knew how tight the owner’s situation was.

  If Alonzo Miramontes had been decent to her, he could have benefited from her knowledge.

  But not now.

  She opened the door to the main office, careful to project a confident, unrattled appearance. There was no need to let her employees know how much that man could unsettle her.

  “It’s a bit too quiet here this morning. Let’s start working on the suite upstairs. Apparently some people will believe this building is for sale until I get a tenant in it,” Mitzy said, abandoning her television career for the moment.

  Joan picked up her sketch pad, a twinkle in her eye.

  Ben opened his AutoCAD program.

  Sabrina opened her Word file.

  “Is there room in the foyer to add an elevator shaft?” Mitzy asked Ben.

  “I don’t have a blueprint here, but if you don’t mind losing a lot of your entry space on the first floor I think there is room.”

  “That’s what I thought, and I am pretty sure, though I don’t specialize in commercial real estate,” there was a snide tone in her voice, “that we would have to put one in if we did any major upgrades.”

  Sabrina took notes in her own computer short hand. She kept typing as she spoke. “I can get the requirements and code today.”

  “Perfect. I don’t want to l
ease the entire upstairs to one company. It makes more sense to create two large spaces or one large, one medium, and one small. Joan, have you ever thought of having an office outside of your home? It sure would be nice for us to have you close at hand.”

  Joan narrowed her eyes and smiled. “I have thought of it. But there hasn’t been anything available in this area. Right now my van is my office when you get right down to it.”

  “I can rent this space as quickly as we can have it ready, however, I’d like to let you have one of the suites.” Mitzy templed her fingers. “You know what would be cool? If you were the Neuhaus stager. We could make you a more permanent part of the team.”

  “I do have some thoughts on that.” Joan chewed her bottom lip. “One reason I’d like to have an office space would be so I could interview potential clients outside of Neuhaus work, especially right now while things are slow. Why don’t I draw up a proposal and we can talk about it?”

  Mitzy knew that Joan, being an artist, had no great desire to draw up proposals, but she appreciated the professional approach Joan was taking. “Sounds good. Have it ready by tomorrow, lunch. I’ll bring some ideas on how we could arrange it as well.”

  “I think, excepting the elevator, the renovation could be finished by the end of the month.” Mitzy turned to her graphics guy. “Ben, I’d like you to get started on the advertising. Make sure to emphasize the multi-use location, perfect for builders and remodelors, perfect for professionals, etc. You know what I want.”

  Ben smiled at his computer, he knew. She wanted it perfect and with a lot of purple. And with the name Neuhaus on it about a million times. Her methods worked, even if they weren’t the sophisticated Wall Street look he had preferred at Uni. “Can do.”

  “Sabrina, first, get the proposal for First Things, put together. Email it to me by end of day. Make the permits second priority. We have the rest of the week to work on them.” Mitzy sat down at her desk, slipped on her reading glasses and opened her email. It would take a good hour to get through her correspondence, but communicating with clients and fans was something she never passed off to her assistant.