Foreclosure: A Novel (37 page)

“You’re worrying about stuff way above your pay grade, kid. Way above it.”

“You formed a company for them, another holding company to take title to a distressed note given by Pinnacle Homes & Investments to Meridian Bank. They purchased it for eleven million, knowing that after the gas line in the south tower exploded a few months later, they would be entitled to payment of twenty under the policy.”

“I hope I didn’t put all that in the memo,” Terry said, cracking a smile.

“Enough for me to connect the dots.”

Terry was done smiling. “You have to admit. Pretty ingenious.”

“A woman died in that fire. Many more could have.”

“Unfortunately, she had to. Fortunately, no more did. That’s business, kid. Get used to it.”

“I’m sure you received a nice payout from those insurance proceeds,” David said.

“The firm did. And like I said, wait until you see your bonus this year.”

“I don’t want a bonus. I want out. Out of the lies and deception.”

“What are you talking about? You’ve been lying for me since you took this job.”

“White lies. I’m not a murderer.”

“She was feeding information to the feds. We had nothing to do with it. It had to be done. For crying out loud, it was O’Reilly’s daughter, and you don’t see him blaming anyone for it.”

“O’Reilly’s a tool. Just like I’ve been.” David pulled out another file. “You lied to me about this, too. Turned out it wasn’t Holloway who opposed me making partner last year. It was you.”

Terry nodded again. “I needed you to be hungry this year, David. I needed your best work. Do you know how many people I’ve seen make partner and just give up? You were so desperate last year to make it. You would’ve had nothing to give me this year.”

“You lied to me.”

“I was doing it for your own good. Look at the work you’ve done this year. That wasn’t me. That was you. That was you kicking ass this year, and you did it all on your own.”

David shook his head. “It all makes sense now. Those escrow monies. They were running out of cash. They needed those monies to buy the loan. Then, once they were paid from the insurance, they settled with the purchasers, paid our firm, and even had some profit to boot. At that point, all they had to do was sit back and wait. If we win this case, icing on the cake, as if the housing crisis had never happened.”

Terry seemed ready to shake David for not getting it. “I repeat:
in-fucking-genious
.”

“So how much did they have to pay Ashcroft to fund his retirement?”

“He was a bargain, actually. Turned out he hates insurance companies.”

“Who are they?”

“Xerxes Capital?”

David nodded.

“What does it matter? They’re primed to make a killing in this economy. And that means we are too.”

“The rich get richer, and the poor get poorer.”

Terry smiled at the beauty of it. “As sure as night follows day.”

“I want nothing to do with it.”

“What, your feelings are hurt now all of a sudden because you know why you didn’t make partner last year? Grow up, David. Do you have any idea what I’ve done for you this year? The past eight years?”

“I could have been arrested. I could have been killed.”

“Welcome to my world. Like I said, it was time to get your hands dirty. And I wasn’t talking about hiding-an-email-for-Blake-Hubert dirty.” He smacked the desktop. “This is what it takes.”

“Like I said, I’m done.”

Terry leaned forward. “Go home and get some sleep. Don’t worry about court tomorrow. I will take care of the dismissal. Take a long nap and then meet me at the airport. We can work this out. For crying out loud, I’m leaving my family for Christmas for this. Just you and me.”

David felt another swell of anger, this one bubbling from a different cavern of his psyche. “I saw that in my memo, too. That psychologist’s memo about my parents. What was it—I would respond well to paternal treatment? I get it. You can stop with the mind games.”

“Of course we did our research and wanted to know what we were investing in.”

“So you knew when I was a summer associate here—you knew then about my mom and dad.”

“We knew he raised you. We knew you wouldn’t trust women.”

David mustered the strength to respond. “You knew I found him with his head blown off. And you’ve done everything you can to manipulate that since you met me, acting like a father figure–”

“Kid, I’m sorry. We live in a dark world. You’re special, though. You know how to navigate it.”

David just shook his head.

Terry stood up. “Listen to me. Alton’s getting voted out tomorrow. Thanks to him, Mackenzie’s leaving with half the firm’s transactional clients. Do you know who’s going to be managing partner of this office as of one o’clock tomorrow afternoon? You’re looking at him. And you know who’s going to be my right hand?”

“I left my resignation on Alton’s desk. I’ll address one to you tomorrow afternoon if need be.”

Terry shook his head. “What are you going to do? What the hell are you going to do?”

“I know what I’m not doing. I’m not becoming your partner.”

“You’ll never practice law in this state again. You’ll never work for another fucking law firm anywhere.”

“You’re right. I won’t.”

“And what the fuck you think you’re going to do?”

David paused, just to make him wait. “I’m starting a band. That’s what I’m going to do.”

“Starting a band?” A smile flickered across Terry’s face, but then he lunged out of his seat with his arms stretched out for David. David stood to meet him with raised fists. That, or something in his eyes, stopped Terry cold.

David lowered his fists a few degrees. “So you read those memos about me, what I went through growing up?”

Terry nodded faintly.

“Then you should know I’m not someone you want to fuck with. Especially not tonight.”

Terry fell into his chair, deflated. “Get the hell out of my house.”

David opened the door to leave, but Terry called after him, “And you better tell your client about this. Don’t expect me to clean up your mess.”

“Don’t you mean
your
client?” David slammed the door shut.

A few minutes later, he dialed his BlackBerry from Terry’s driveway. He saw the light to Terry’s study turn off just as Frank answered the phone.

“It’s me,” David said. “I need you to sign something tonight.”

Frank sighed, seemingly exhaling a deep hit of smoke. “I already signed everything. Talk to Jenkins. It’s done.”

“It’s not the agreement. I’d rather explain in person.”

Frank grunted. “You know where to meet.”

David knocked on the door to the safe house. He heard the faint mumble of someone telling him to enter, so he pushed the door open. Inside, Robbie was putting groceries away. A gym bag sat on the counter.

“Where’s Frank?” David asked.

Robbie turned and crossed his arms. The gym bag was open. “He got sick. He said I can sign whatever you need for the company.”

“You can sign for Pinnacle Homes & Investments?”

Robbie nodded. “Remember, I signed your engagement letter. What is it?”

David set the paper on the table. “So who do you really work for?”

“Who do you think I work for?”

“I think Frank works for you.”

Robbie was grinning now. “I can see why you might think that. It’s a complicated business.”

“You work for Xerxes Capital.”

“Yeah, Xerxes Capital,” Robbie said with a chuckle. “I guess you could say I work for them too.” He took a step closer. “Let’s just say you and me, and your law firm, we’re all paid by the same people.”

“You
are
Xerxes Capital.”

Robbie shook his head. “Just a minority interest. My dad, on the other hand—”

“So you’re just here to do the dirty work.”

He shrugged. “Be careful what kind of questions you ask.”

“So your work’s about done here?”

“Getting there.” Robbie glanced at the paper on the table. “I thought the agreement was signed. What is this?”

“I’m leaving Hollis & Alderman. I need someone to sign this acknowledging consent to my withdrawal from the case.”

“This isn’t much notice, is it?”

“The firm will remain counsel for the company. You can discuss this with Terry Jenkins. I have a feeling you know him pretty well.”

Robbie read the form David placed on the table. “Why are you withdrawing now?”

“I guess you can say, it’s just business.”

Robbie picked up the motion and skimmed it once more. “So you’re just going to walk into court tomorrow and present this at the same time we notify the court of the settlement?”

David nodded.

“And tell the court you cannot continue in this case in good conscience? You don’t think all this jazz about ethical obligations will sound some alarms?”

David nodded again.

Robbie’s eyes narrowed and seemingly turned black. “You’re out of your fucking mind.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Robbie stared at the document a moment longer, as though waiting for a better response. When he didn’t get one, he asked, “You sure about this?”

“I’m going to do it with or without your signature. Your consent will streamline the process and save me from having to disclose details.”

Robbie started to turn around. “Well, in that case, let me get a pen.” His back now to David, he fumbled inside the gym bag. “I got one in here somewhere.”

When he turned back around, David felt a sizzling pinch in his chest before he saw the gun in Robbie’s hand. Panic hit slowly, but it was quickly subdued. He wondered how he hadn’t seen this coming.

But there had been no sound of gunfire. The pain was not what he’d have expected from a gunshot. He realized that the shot or whatever it was had knocked him back into the kitchen table. And onto the cold floor. Where he then lay. The table had collapsed over him. He was gasping for air. Staring at the ceiling.

Robbie stood over him now, watching.

David waited to see his life flash before him, strangely eager to see something to signify the totality of his existence. But all he saw was an expanding darkness as he sank into a deep, cold place.

He didn’t know if he was awake or dead; all he knew was, he was still surrounded by darkness. All he could hear was a faint, guttural sound that slowly and ominously grew louder; a rhythmic grunting, with discordant, tinny undertones.

As he regained consciousness, and realized that he was regaining consciousness—and recalled quick flashes of what had happened before he lost consciousness—he sensed that he was moving, ever so slightly. Rocking up and down in unison with the buzzing sounds he could hear, as though something powerful was dragging him beneath its underside.

Wherever he was, it felt cool and damp. He couldn’t move his arms. He couldn’t move anything. He managed to roll over half a turn. The uncomfortable dampness seemingly awakened something inside him. Awake, he wanted to vomit from the toxins that had poisoned his body and the stench of dead fish, rotten and putrefied.

He remembered Robbie had shot him. Was that real? Was any of it real?

The stench was real. If he were alive, he must be inside a giant fish, as it reeled through the water, grunting and spitting; he could hear and feel its heart beat. If not, then he must be dead, and this was his fitting punishment. This was what he deserved, en route to Hades.

Or maybe this was only transitory. Maybe something worse awaited him. This was the wrath he deserved. For his greed. His lies. His deception. Ed Savage. The foreclosure. He had told Terry he wasn’t a murderer, but he had nearly killed Ed Savage, hadn’t he? What if Ed had died? How long had it been since he’d heard anything about Ed? Maybe Ed had since died, a victim of David’s lies. And Ed would be there waiting for him, wherever he was going. Ed would be there to greet him, to welcome him to eternity.

Katherine. He cried when he remembered Katherine. The lies killed her. The lies killed her.

This was David’s hell. This was justice. This was worse than flames. He’d rather be thrown into a furnace now, to extinguish his racing thoughts. And that’s what was happening, wasn’t it? The fish was slowing, about ready to spit him up on a fiery beach, where demons would flay his flesh, and Ed Savage would drink his blood.

He wondered how to pray—and if he’d ever known. Had he ever tried? But pray to what? The nervous beat of his heart brought him some solace. That was his heart, wasn’t it? Which would mean he was still alive, still attached to a body. Alive in some way. But he only felt dead. He knew he was dead. He’d died long ago. If he ever was alive. Pray to what?

If there is anyone to hear this, and I live, I will change. I will live. I will walk away. I will.

The grunting slowed and then squelched. And as it did, the pounding in his head seemed to grow louder. But so did his consciousness and his sense of his surroundings. And then he realized where he was and what the sound was that had been cutting through his mind: it was a marine engine, and he was somewhere on a boat.

He rubbed his chest. There was no wound. At least no gunshot wound. Only soreness. Not wanting to leave a trail of blood in the safe house, Robbie must have shot him with a tranquillizer. So here David was in the bowels of Frank’s fishing boat. He remembered Frank joking about dropping off dead bodies, and the game locker being big enough to hold a lawyer. But it was no joke. How many had they taken out? How many had been set out to sea for their sick plan to profit off Gaspar Towers? This was what Robbie did best—he made problems like David disappear for good.

He could see now how this would end. In just a few hours, Terry would show up in Judge Cox’s courtroom with the dismissal papers. He’d explain to the court and the world how David had a nervous breakdown last night and told him he quit and was leaving to start over, to never be heard from again. Anyone who knew the profession would buy it; just another lawyer who cracked under the pressure. He’d come to them as an orphaned loner, and so he left, unable to handle the stress of practicing law at this level; once again an orphaned loner.