214 Palmer Street(34)
Some part of her wanted information about the bomb shelter. Where on the property was it located? How big was it? She wasn’t sure how this fact-finding mission would help her, but at least it was a start toward getting some answers. When she’d talked all of this through with Phil, he’d suggested checking the official records. “You could check to see if there was a builder’s permit for the shelter. That would give you some information.” When he’d said he’d drive her, she took him up on the offer.
When he pulled into a parking space she said, “Do you mind waiting here, while I run inside? It’ll be just a few minutes.”
“Take your time,” he said, smiling. “I brought a book.”
Typical of small communities, the town hall was in a huge brick building that also contained the community center and the police department. The library was in a separate building but stood adjacent and shared a parking lot. There was some comfort in walking across the parking lot, since it felt so reminiscent of visiting the library.
Sarah went into the entryway, following the arrow down the hallway, then entered through the glass double doors to the town hall. She thought this would go quickly. After all, how long did it take to peruse all the documents pertaining to one property? In her mind, this was a quick errand. Heidi, a silver-haired woman with reading glasses hanging off a chain around her neck, turned out to be a major deterrent. The exchange started off well enough. When she first walked in, Heidi stepped up to the counter with a smile on her face and asked, “Good morning! How can I help you today?” Implying, of course, that she wanted to be of service.
Just as she’d practiced, Sarah politely responded, “I’d like to see everything you have pertaining to a certain property, a house located at 214 Palmer Street.” She felt her heart hammer against her chest as if she were doing something wrong, which was ridiculous. People looked at public records all the time. It wasn’t a crime, so why did she feel so guilty? She took a deep breath to steady herself.
Heidi wrinkled her forehead. “Is there something specific you’re looking for?” She must have sensed some hesitancy on Sarah’s part because she began to list off all of the records in her department, as if it were inventory. “For a residential property we’d most likely have plats, builder’s blueprints, any permits that were filed, maps, and documents pertaining to easements and zoning requirements. We also might have any written correspondence between the developer or builder and the building inspector. If you’re looking for a deed that would be at the county office.” She leaned over the counter and smiled. “For some of the earlier homes in town we don’t have much, but I believe Palmer Street was developed in the 1950s. By that point the planning commission was in full force so there would be more documentation.”
“I see.” Sarah felt herself regaining some confidence. “Actually, I’m considering buying the property and I want to know everything about it.” Back in an office out of view, she heard the faint one-sided conversation of a woman on a phone. Above her head a fluorescent light buzzed.
Heidi leaned against the counter. “Usually, we have real estate agents make this kind of request. I’m surprised yours isn’t helping you out.”
“I prefer to do things myself.” She gave Heidi a winning smile. “I’m particularly interested in knowing if there were any permits issued for outbuildings or structures besides the main house.”
“Outbuildings?” She lifted her glasses off her bosom and set them on her nose, peering at Sarah through the lenses. “You mean like a storage shed?”
“Any kind of structure besides the actual house.”
“We might not have information for something like that. Back in the day they used to be more lackadaisical about that kind of thing. You wouldn’t believe what people would do without permits. One guy put a whole addition on the back of his house and no one knew until twenty years later when they tried to sell it.” Heidi shook her head. “One thing you might want to check out—we have an excellent website with aerial views. You can zoom in quite close. It might be able to tell you more than anything we have.” She hadn’t budged from her spot. Sarah got the impression she wasn’t eager to go in back and search for old records. “Getting an online look might be your best bet.”
This was not how Sarah had imagined this visit. She’d envisioned being handed a file or folder, leafing through it, finding what she needed and being on her way, not facing this roadblock of a woman. She thought of Phil waiting in the parking lot. He’d said to take her time, but she was still aware of the inconvenience. “Can I just see what you have?” she asked. “Any information would be helpful.”
“Just a minute,” Heidi said, her mouth settling into a grim line. “Let me talk to my supervisor. I’ll be right back.” She walked away from the counter, then strode down a short hallway until Sarah could no longer see her.
She had to talk to her supervisor? Why? The woman’s reluctance to comply with a basic request was unsettling. There was no reason for Sarah to get a bad feeling, and yet, there it was. A sick sensation rose from her stomach, followed by the fear that someone was going to ask for her name and identification.
Sarah heard Heidi speaking to someone, but couldn’t make out the words. She wondered if Heidi found her request to be suspicious. The harsh light of the office made her feel exposed. She had a stray thought: did the office or entrance have cameras recording her visit? Probably, she decided, with a sinking feeling. Didn’t most places nowadays?