The Collectibles (9 page)

“And you're in breach with each bank now, right?”

“Correct.”

“So the way I figure it, you've made commitments to your banks, failed to live up to those commitments, renegotiated the loans to ease the commitments, and then breached those commitments, twice, for each bank. So, essentially, you've lied to each of your lending institutions financing your businesses three times. You've probably lied to yourself as well.” Joe got up from the log he was sitting on and walked over to the edge of the pond.

“Are you married?” Joe continued, picking up a stone and tossing it into the pond.

Preston nodded.

“Is your wife on the personal guarantees?”

Preston nodded again.

“Have you told your wife the full story of how much trouble you're in and that you're going down, as you put it?”

Preston slowly shook his head.

“So you've lied to her as well,” Joe said. “Again, why should I believe anything you say to me? I think it's time we get some sleep and allow all the critters listening to this conversation to get some sleep as well. Don't leave any food around tonight or the bears will give us all a hard time. Good night, gentlemen.”

Joe got up and carefully placed some pine boughs on the side of his makeshift lean-to and set out his sleeping bag. He came back and added three more logs to the fire, and then he returned to the lean-to, followed by Buck. Casey and Preston sat by the fire, neither saying or doing anything for a few moments.

“What do you think, Casey?”

“I think he's right, we've got to be careful about the food,” Casey answered, clearly afraid.

“Forget the bears. What should I do? You know, I've worked all my life to get to this point. I've built a small empire, and you've been a big part of that. And now I'm going to – we're going to – watch it all go down the drain.”

Casey looked up at Preston, who was now pacing by the fire.

“This is a disaster. We should never have come up here,” Preston said. “I'm sorry I yelled at you in the car yesterday afternoon, Casey.”

“You're under a lot of heavy shit.”

“No, well, yes, but . . . beyond that. Something set me off. Something you said about chasing rainbows. I remember listening to my mother accuse my father of that the night he left us. My father was always on the verge of making the biggest deal, but it never panned out. Eventually, my mother made him leave. She couldn't stand it. I swore I would never be like him. That I would be a success. I thought I was. I don't know how I got into this mess. Now I'm going to lose it all.”
I can't be a failure. I won't be a failure.

“I know, Preston. I know.”

“And then there's Marcia. That's the absolute worst part.” Preston realized that he had begun to cry. “She's going to leave me, man; she's going to leave me for sure. I can live with losing my business, but I damn well can't live with losing her. And sure as hell, I'm going to do just that. Joe's smart as hell. He's right, too. I did lie to the banks, and I did lie to myself, and worst of all, I lied to Marcia.

“I've never talked to you about Marcia. She's really smart. That's what drew me to her in the first place, aside from that fact that she's drop-dead beau- . . . well you know what she looks like. She was the only woman who really got it, and fast. She was nice about it, but she could look right through a person and see what I didn't see. And she could do the same with other things, including business. Before I got tied up building an empire, or at least one I thought I was building, Marcia and I had wonderful times together. She really understood me and what I wanted to build. It was exciting. She made me feel special, that I could do the things I wanted to do. She was a huge help; she added a lot. And she was fun to be with. Still is, except that I haven't been around much because I've had to take care of business. I wanted her to have the best – high-end cars, a great condo, the best clothes. Marcia never asked me for anything. All she really ever wanted from me was what we had in the beginning. I can't stand the thought of losing her, and I don't know what to do.”

There was nothing more to say. The two men stretched the tarp between two trees as best they could, then put the blankets on the ground under it with their sleeping bags on top. They crawled in, and tried unsuccessfully to sleep.

 

Joe also tried to sleep, but having overheard all of their conversation, he was having a serious argument with himself. He resented Preston coming up here and trying to dump his problems on him. Despite everything, however, he could not help but feel compassion for the man. But these mistakes were not made on his watch, or by his men. They were simply not his problems.
Maybe that son of a bitch in the Navy was right. Maybe I am flawed for getting too involved with other people's problems.

Despite the observation being on the record, Joe knew that his FITREPS, the Navy term for fitness reports, had all showed high ratings for performance, that his position in the Navy had been secure. At the same time, he'd had to face the reality that because of the fraternization comment he would likely not have been promoted further and could have been headed for a desk job; he'd resigned from the naval career he loved and gone into the law.

Joe's thoughts about Preston and whether to help him were superimposed, like two blurred slides, with his Navy personnel experience.
Is this guy worth it? These rich guys have no yardstick, no base line. They don't know what the hell they can or can't do. The banks are probably in this, too. He wouldn't know the truth if it bit him in the ass. He brought all this upon himself. He's fallen off the mountain trail again. No way is this guy drawing me down into it again. I can't believe he would try to act like we have a relationship after all these years, and try to use that to get me to help him. It's all about the deal to him. I don't know if he knows what a real relationship is. He's not concerned about integrity or credibility, just money, and he's blown that. But he does love his wife.

As Joe tried to sleep the argument continued, but his mind kept going back to the fact that Preston could lose his wife.

P
reston and Casey woke to the smell of meat cooking on the fire. In the brightness of the morning sun they each looked five years older. The pond was covered with a flock of mallards that had landed during the night, save the one Buck apparently had sampled, from the look of a nearby pile of feathers.

“Good morning,” Joe said. “Would you like some meat? Coffee?”

Preston and Casey moved stiffly to the fire and picked up strips of venison with small sticks, as they had watched Joe do the night before. The meat, slightly burning Preston's mouth as he ate, tasted surprisingly good. They used left-over cups Sarah had thrown in the bag and drank the coffee.

“Preston, tell me a little bit more about yourself,” Joe said.

“Well, I live in Manhattan – we do, my wife Marcia and I. We don't have kids. Marcia would like them, but I've been so busy with work, I didn't think it would be fair to start a family yet. To tell you the truth, Joe, I built quite a business. Wilson Holdings owns ten major automobile dealerships, all with upscale points. By that I mean franchises . . . ”

“I know what points are, Preston,” Joe interrupted. “Go on.”

“Well, my stores are all over the country, and, if it weren't for some major problems at our store in San Francisco, we were doing pretty well, wouldn't you say, Casey?”

“Actually, no,” Casey replied.

“Pretty well,” Preston went on, ignoring Casey's remark, “except that we developed serious cash-flow problems. While we had considerable equity in our real estate, particularly in Manhattan, Atlanta, and Houston, we had to mortgage that equity to help us with cash flow . . . ”

Joe interrupted again. “Actually, Preston, I asked you to tell me about you, not your business. I'm interested to know more about you. For example, you indicated last night somewhere along the line that if I didn't help you, you would lose everything. Tell me, what is it that you feel you would lose? What is losing everything to you?”

“Everything I own, Joe. We'll lose it all. I'm on personal guarantees for all the flooring lines and the capital loans. My wife Marcia is on the guarantees as well. So we'll lose all our holdings, not only business, but personal as well. Our Trump Tower condo. Our plane. Our home in West Palm. And, of course, all the assets of the businesses and their income stream.”

“If you lost all of that, Preston, what would you personally miss the most?” Joe asked.

Preston thought for a minute and then replied, “It sounds silly, Joe, but to tell you the truth, what I would really miss is my office in the General Motors Building. I like walking into the building in the morning, greeting the attendants, and taking the elevator up to the forty-fourth floor. I love my office. You should see the view. It's like looking down over canyons of beautiful buildings. When I'm up there, I feel like I'm on top of the world. Like I've really achieved something, like I'm a player.”

“Anything else you would really miss?”

At this point, Preston's eyes filled with tears. He turned his face away from Joe and didn't speak for a moment.

“No, except . . . Marcia. I'll lose her, too.”

“I suppose the full enjoyment of that view, however beautiful, is diminished by the dark clouds in your mind because of all the problems you're having,” Joe said.

“That is so true. You have no idea.” Preston felt strange opening up to this man in a way he had never experienced before, afraid and awkward, all unaccustomed feelings. There was nothing more he could say.

Joe broke the silence. “Preston, I've decided I will help you . . . on three conditions. Do you want me to go on?”

“Oh, God, yes.”

“Okay. Let me put this in language you can understand. Here's the deal. I'll help you, providing you make a commitment to do three things, and these conditions are each non-negotiable.

“One: You tell me everything I want to know. You show me everything I want to see. And you do everything I tell you to do the way I tell you to do it.

“Two: You tell me only the absolute truth. You lie to me one time, and we are done. Instantly done. And I alone will judge whether you are lying to me.

“Three: If I ask you to do something for me, now, or in the future, no matter what it is, you will do it. No matter what. And this commitment is for life,” Joe said as he crossed over in front of Casey and looked Preston straight in the eyes. “I want you to think very carefully. Are you willing and able to make a firm, irrevocable commitment to me on each of these three conditions? If you can, tell me now. If not, forget it.”

Joe's words hung in the morning air. Preston sat still and stared back at Joe. Finally Preston said, “Joe, I want your help more than anything. I'm grateful to you for . . . ”

“Cut it out, Preston,” Joe interrupted. “Just answer the question.”

Preston looked down for a moment, and then up at the sky. Finally he turned to Joe and said, “I can do the first two, no problem. But the third, hell, I don't even know what it will be. How can I agree to that?”

“Maybe you can't,” said Joe, moving away from Preston.

Preston looked at Casey, and receiving no response, wondered whether Casey didn't know what to say or couldn't speak.

“Sometimes in life you have to have enough faith to make an irrevocable commitment,” Joe said. “Some can, some can't. This is not one of your contracts with the bank. And it's not one of your lawyer retainer agreements either. Why am I responsible to help you? You never answered my question as to why I should. All of your responses are about the trouble you are in, about what you need. What about mutuality?”

Preston started to speak, and Joe held up his hand. “Not yet, I'm not finished,” Joe said. “This, my friend, is about personal integrity. This goes directly to you. To who and what you are. Can you accept that? I'm done now. Just give me your answer, and it better be the truth.” Joe sat down on a log near the fire.

Preston could feel the cool sweat running down his back. He noticed Buck staring as hard at him as Joe. He tried to weigh the pros and cons, to reason it out, but he was unable to focus. All he could think about was his fear of going down, and all that would mean. How could he commit now to do what Joe would ask in the future – not knowing what it would be?

Maybe you can't,
Joe had said. If he couldn't, no deal. What did Joe mean about having enough faith to make an irrevocable commitment? Faith in what?

Then Preston realized he had no choice, that he had to make the commitment or else Joe would not help him. As to what Joe might ask of him in the future, if he did, Preston would cross that bridge when he came to it. Yet, there was something about Joe that made Preston afraid. This was not a man to renege on. Maybe he shouldn't agree. Preston paced back and forth in front of the fire.

Joe stood up and simply looked at Preston as if to say, “Well?” Preston took a big breath and then let it out. He had made a decision. “Yes, I am willing to make those commitments, all three, right now.”

The three men stood, faced each other, and Joe and Preston shook hands.

Casey shook Joe's hand as well. Then he turned to Preston and hugged him for the first time.

“Let's go down the mountain,” Joe said.

D
inner at the Blooming Grove Lodge tasted pretty good to Joe.

“I hope you don't mind that I brought those fellas up,” Larry said. “Didn't want them botherin' you, but that Preston fella seemed to know you and acted like it was pretty important.”

“No problem, Larry. It was good of you. I had to come down sometime. Can't stay up there forever, much as I'd like to. Buck and I will stay here tonight if that's okay with you. I'll check my cabins in the morning, and then we'll head on back to Braydon.”

“Of course. We always love to have you. That's a long drive to South Carolina, ain't it?”

“It's about twenty hours. I'm not going to push it. I'll take a couple of days; give Buck a chance to stretch now and then.”

It was time to see what the rest of the world felt like again. On the trip down, Buck took in the sights and smells from Joe's open truck windows and hopped back and forth through the double back windows to the open truck bed. Joe avoided Route 81 and I-95 wherever he could, preferring instead to stay away from the big trucks and get as close to the ocean as possible. He smoked cigars, listened to music, and reflected.

Joe thought about the mountains, the time he had spent there. How they had changed with the increased activity in the park, all of the hikers, bikers, canoeists, and climbers. Realizing the mountains belonged to everyone, he was pleased and surprised that there had been so much growth. While there were trails, lean-tos and other indications of the park becoming a playground, there were still thousands of acres of real wilderness remaining. In fact, in certain areas where there had been blow-downs, trails were blocked and even became thicker. Because of the thickness, the game was still hard to find. The deer and other animals were full and large. There were actually more beaver than he had remembered, which meant more beaver dams, more back-up of wetlands, all with more benefit to the wild domain. The birds were plentiful and the beauty was still there. So was the quiet.

He thought about Preston and Casey. He figured if Casey made the same trip again, he'd probably have a heart attack. He liked Casey, but wondered what part his willingness to follow had led Preston into this mess. For a CFO, he surely missed a lot. On the other hand, he had a basic candor Joe liked.

Joe saw Preston as more complicated. He wondered whether Preston would have the character and the courage when it was needed. And could he be honest with himself and with his wife? Was he really afraid to lose her, or was he afraid of how it would look if he did? Would he honor his commitment to Joe?

Joe thought about how well one gets to know a man, what he's really made of, what he's really like, how he handles pressure and the fear of death, secretly chasing an enemy sub, so close a sailor could hit it, or hovering over a Soviet cable, tapping it and trying not to be caught. The guys Joe served with on those subs were the best. They were a family. His family.

He was sorry that his thoughts led him down a trail that led to family. He could feel the pain as he relived for the hundredth time the coroner's insistence that Ashley be subjected to an autopsy.

“It's always required in a violent death,” the coroner had said. Joe knew too well the cause of death. What he did not expect to learn was that they were finally on their way to building their own family. There had been two deaths that night.

He forced himself to move away from these thoughts and concentrate on the project he had promised Preston he would undertake. As Joe drove his truck over the beltway around Washington he cracked the window, lit a cigar, and called his secretary.

“Joe, it's so good to hear your voice. I've missed you. We all have. How are you? Are you okay? Where are you?”

“That's a lot of questions, Alice,” Joe laughed. “I've missed you, too. Not as much as Buck did though. I'm fine . . . well, as fine as I can be. Buck was great company, as usual, and you know I love it up there.”

“What made you leave?”

“That's a good question, Alice. You're good. I really appreciate you. I decided you needed work. You know, the kind you really love, sorting through boxes and boxes of documents.”

“Oh, no, you're not telling me we're going to do another turnaround plan? I thought you were done with those. That will mean Braydon's economy is due for an uptick. The copy people. Trimax Office Supply. The coffee. More cigars. This is good. How many document clerks do you want me to line up?” Alice was obviously excited.

“It will be good to see you. Actually, I would like a couple of people to assist with the documents. The rest you and I can handle. Please keep it quiet that I'm coming back.”

“Nice try, Joe. That won't work. As soon as you come rumbling into town in your truck with Buck, it will be all over. Get over it; you're going to have to say hello to a few people. I'll do what I can. When will I see you?”

“I don't want to spend too much time at the house. How 'bout in the morning, and we'll get started. In the meantime, call a man named Casey Fitzgerald who works as a CFO for a high-flying executive in New York City. He works for Wilson Holdings in the General Motors Building in Manhattan.”

“And tell Mr. Fitzgerald what?” Alice asked.

“Tell him I'm back and ready to go. That I want to talk with him at eleven in the morning and to let his people know that they will be responding to his requests for a lot of detailed information and, in certain cases, phone calls from us.”

“Aye aye, boss. This is great. Can't wait. See you in the morning.”

Joe drove until late that night, stopping only for gas, a messy cheeseburger combo, and to let Buck stretch his legs. As he entered North Carolina, he decided to spend the rest of the night in a motel just off Route 17. He figured he would go directly to his office in the morning, thereby putting off the return to the house a little while longer.