
“I made most of my nut right there,” he said. “In Bay Harbor. Of course, that place is gonna be full one of these days.” He looked at the cards he was holding close to his chest. He called Kenny’s dollar and raised ten more. “Ain’t that right, Kenny?”
Kenny folded his hand. “Too rich for me.”
“The big question is, who’s gonna build the next Bay Harbor?” Vargas said. “And where’s it gonna be?”
Chapter Three
If you drive south, over the Mackinac Bridge, and then down M-31 along the Lake Michigan coast, the first town you’ll hit is Petoskey. It used to be a sleepy little fishing village, now it’s yuppie heaven. Keep going toward Charlevoix, another sleepy little fishing village turned yuppie heaven-about halfway there you’ll hit Bay Harbor. Or rather, Bay Harbor will hit you. First thing you’ll see is the Bay Harbor Yacht Club. There’s a white building next to the road, all done up like a lighthouse. A guard sits at the gate, ready to check you over to make sure you’re on his list. Further down there’s the Bay Harbor Golf Club. Another white building right next to the road, another guard sitting at the gate. Across the street, on a hill that’s as high as any hill in this part of Michigan, sits the Bay Harbor Equestrian Center. Anywhere else in the state, it’s a horse farm. Here it’s the Equestrian Center. Needless to say, there’s another gate with another guard.
The houses are all on the lake side of the road, of course. You have to go through yet another gatehouse to get to them. There are condominiums, too, and a big hotel. There’s even a little Main Street where you can try on some diamonds, maybe buy a painting, and then have a cappuccino. If you don’t have a lot of money to spend, don’t even bother slowing down. Just take a quick look at Bay Harbor, friend-be impressed, be envious, be sorry that you can’t live here yourself. And then keep driving.
