Beneath the Palisade (20 page)

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Authors: Joel Skelton

BOOK: Beneath the Palisade
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“Really? I’m kind of surprised. Is it because of….”

“Sure. The shooting definitely plays a role in my decision. But honestly, I was headed for a change before that. I thought about switching firms, but something is telling me that won’t be enough. The nightmares….” It was embarrassing to make those a consideration, but to ignore them would be a mistake. “I think I need some drastic type of change to refocus my attention. Something I can really sink my teeth into.” He looked over to see if what he’d been saying was making any sense.

“You’re welcome to give landscaping a try. I know there are aspects of running a business you’d be a big help with.”

“Oh, I’ll be happy to help you regardless of what I decide to do. I’d enjoy helping you, but landscaping isn’t me. I need something that fits more into my whacked personality.”
Like… like….

“You mean like towel boy at the Y?”

He laughed at Ian’s playful gibe. “So,”—he turned to face his partner—“Burke Landscaping, is that the dream? Is that where you want to end up?” He leaned back against the door, then bolted up to check to make sure it was locked, a fear dating back to childhood.

“It’s funny. I would answer that with a yes and a no. The business is very new, so keep that in mind.”

“Point noted.”
Jeez, are you at the firm?

“Before I had something of my own, it’s all I thought about.” Ian waited until he’d passed a semi to continue. “Now that Burke Landscaping has launched, I’m already thinking ahead to a time when I don’t have to work in other people’s yards. When I have someone on the payroll who can do the actual labor so I can concentrate on designing. I don’t see that change coming anytime soon, though. Especially with your expensive tastes and us trying to survive now on one income.”

“You don’t really think that, do you? That now you’re trapped in your landscaping job because of me?”
Crap, I’d never thought of that. Is he serious?

“Well….” Ian burst out laughing. “You dolt, Harper. Damn, you can be serious sometimes. No, I don’t think that. I’d have you out there selling Mary Kay before I suffered.”

It was Harper’s turn to laugh. Ian had played him beautifully. “Mary Kay, I never thought about that one.”

The countryside had changed from flat fields of corn to rolling green hills. This was the best part of the year, he thought. Everything was so lush and beautiful.

“I’d love for you to have the time, the ability to concentrate on your landscaping design.”

“Oh man. Well, that’ll happen someday, I hope. Hey, I came across something last week that interested me. When you were being checked out by Dr. Monroe, I paged through a property brochure on the North Shore. This is really out there, but you asked.”

“I don’t care if it’s out there. Hey, isn’t it kind of strange that I came out and said that Dr. Monroe and her partner were going to the North Shore for a long weekend? Did you think that was weird I said that?” Now that Ian had brought up his interest in the North Shore, he thought the connection was kind of strange, strange timing.

“I just thought the brochure was Dr. Monroe’s or something. I thought maybe they were looking at property around there.”

“Oh, that works. Okay, so back to the North Shore. Whatcha got noodlin’ around up there?”

“You and I running a B&B. I could be the groundskeeper, keep up with the repairs, and you could manage it all and deal with the lodgers. See, I told you it was out there.”

Hoping to get a rise out of Ian, Harper crossed his arms and shook his head. “That’s not out there, that’s the stupidest frickin’ thing I’ve ever heard.” Was Ian gullible enough to think he was serious? He was all about the payback.

Turned out he wasn’t. Before reducing their speed, Ian swerved the car over onto the shoulder and then applied the brakes.

“Ian, what the hell are you doing?” He gripped the door handle and braced himself.

“You wanna see stupid, I’ll show you stupid.” Ian activated the emergency flashers, turned the windshield wipers on high, and honked the horn as they came to an abrupt halt on the side of the freeway. “Take it back.” Ian reached over to him and started bitch slapping him.

“I’m sorry. It’s not stupid. Stop it, you maniac.” He whacked back but was laughing so hard he snorted.

“Don’t fuck with me, Mr. Callahan. When are you going to learn I am… the
master
!”

“Oh God,” he squealed, “you are the master.”

“I am the master.” Ian proudly put the car back in gear, checked the mirror for oncoming traffic, and eased back onto the freeway.

A B&B on the North Shore, that’s not that out there. It could have been worse.

He sat back in his seat and allowed a visual of what Ian had proposed to take shape. He pictured a beautifully restored old Victorian house with a large porch. Huge, glorious baskets of flowers hung from the beams. Rocking chairs and small seating areas were strategically placed for the lodgers. The view of the lake was exquisite. Yes, sir, Ian’s pie-in-the-sky dream could have been a whole lot worse.

 

 

D
RESSED
in his finest suit, Harper walked through the doors of McPherson, Price & Wabash for the first time since being shot. “I know where I’m going.” The receptionist was new; he didn’t feel the need to introduce himself.
I can’t wait to see the expressions on Duncan and Arthur. This is going to be great!

“Brentster! Hey, buddy, how’s it going?” Harper poked his head into his assistant’s cubicle.

“Hey, Harper.” Brent jumped out of his chair. “Wow, I had no idea you were coming in.”

“You miss me, I can hear it in your voice.” Harper chuckled.

“Are you back for good?” Brent stepped out from behind his desk.

“Are you in the middle of something?” Harper moved into the little space and slapped Brent playfully on the shoulder.

“Naw, just proofing a motion going out tomorrow. It can wait.”

“Great, let’s take a walk.” Harper stepped out of the cube and waited for Brent to join him.

“How are you feeling? You look great!” Brent patted his boss on the back.

“I’m feeling pretty damn good. The arm is coming along, and the pain in my chest is almost gone. Hey, thanks again for the call right after Phyllis Flynn was sentenced. It looks like my impact statement did the trick. Hard to believe both she and Jasper are serving twenty-five-year sentences. His and hers.” Harper laughed as he led Brent into a conference room and closed the door. “So what’s been going on around here lately?” He sat and gestured for Brent to sit across from him. Before he paid a visit on the partners, he thought it best to get an update on the recent activity around the firm.

“Ronnie McPherson was involved in another car accident. He drove off the road and into a tree about a mile from home. Of course he was drunk.” Brent did nothing to hide his dislike of the partner’s spoiled son.

Harper wasn’t the least bit surprised by the newest development in the Ronnie saga. A couple of years ago, he’d been snagged to represent Ronnie in court when he was charged with selling pot at a Guster concert. The kid was fined and ordered to put in a few hours of community service tidying up one of the local parks. It was a sweet deal that only money and legal influence could buy. To this day it remained a revolting memory. He hoped Ronnie was reaching the end of his legal nine lives. The kid would always be trouble as long as Daddy was there to bail him out.

“Old man McPherson assigned Brock Baumgartner, the new associate in med-mal, to represent him in court this week.” Brent’s disgust with the situation was palpable.

“You have no idea how glad I am not to have to go through the defending-Ronnie experience again. I guess it sucks to be Brock,” he quipped. “Anything else going on? What kind of crap did they throw at you while I was out?” He hoped his assistant’s survival skills would be enough to protect him from the onslaught of needy associates who would jump at the chance to have someone as competent as Brent at their beck and call.

“So far, I’ve been okay. I’m keeping myself busy preparing the McGuire file for closing. Which reminds me, with your blessing I want to gather up all of the client materials and send them back. They’re in the way, and I can’t think of a reason why we need to hold on to them any longer.”

“Oh God, send them back. If I have to look at those stupid scrapbooks one more time, I’ll vomit.” Tammy McGuire was a cheerleader who had taken a prescription drug for birth control and, as a result, had died of a massive stroke. It was a tragic case. The family, in hopes of seeking legal and, much more important to them, it was soon discovered, a monetary reward, had stopped just short of supplying her baby shoes in hopes of bolstering their defense. During the trial the dad had become a monster to deal with, and even though the outcome had been highly favorable for his clients, the greed displayed by Tammy’s family tainted any joy for him when it was all said and done.

“Thanks. I have everything packed and ready to send back.” Brent giggled.

“No doubt.” Harper laughed.
You’re truly the only one I’m going to miss here.

“Brent, I’m not coming back. I’m here to tell you first, and then the partners.”

“Fuck!” Brent couldn’t hide his disappointment.

“I wasn’t happy here before. Well, you had to know I haven’t really been happy here for a while. This seems like the perfect time for me to make a change.” Harper felt a lump grow in his throat. He hadn’t planned on this exchange with his assistant being as emotionally challenging as it was turning out.

“It makes sense. Fuck, I’m going to miss you here, Harper. You have to know that.” Brent looked like he might break down.

“I’ve enjoyed working with you so much, Brent. You do an amazing job.”
There must be more you can say, Harp.
“I’m sorry this is so abrupt. It’s been something that has been on my mind for a very long time. I just wanted to make sure it was the right decision to make at the right time.”

“Oh, I get it. I understand. I’m just….” Brent looked away.

“Hey, we’ll stay in touch. You’re a friend, Brent. Now that we don’t have that strange working relationship thing between us, it’s going to be even better.”
Does he believe me?

“Can I still be upset you’re leaving?”

“As long as you don’t cry, I’m fine. If you cry, then I’ll cry.”

“Can I whine?”

“Don’t you always?” Harper hoped his humor would soften the blow.

“Fuck off!”

“There’s the nasty Brent I knew you hid under all of that professionalism.”

They shared a good laugh.

“Well, wish me luck. I’m off to tell the partners. Oh wait, I have a favor to ask you. If you don’t have time to do this, no worries.” He knew the answer but would never think to assume.

“What’s up?” Brent sat back in his chair.

“I have a friend who’s interested in purchasing property up along the north shore of Lake Superior. Would you search around and see if you can find a real estate agent who specializes in that area? I’m looking for someone really competent. My friend is interested in properties that have the potential to be turned into a B&B. If you can come up with a name or two by the end of the week, that would be great.”

“Sounds like fun. Sure.”

If Brent was pumped about a project, there would be no stopping him.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Harper stood. “Come here, my friend. How about a hug?”

Brent got up, and Harper wrapped his arms around him.

“Let’s talk soon, okay? I’d love to go out and grab a beer or two or three sometime soon.” Harper broke the embrace.

“Back at you soon with a realtor. Oh, and Harper?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Make sure to say hi to Ian for me.”

“Will do. Okay, here I go.”

“Oh God….” Brent looked over his shoulder as he opened the conference room door.

“What is it?” Harper backed away from the opening.

“Here, I have to show you.” Brent led him down the hallway toward the section of the firm that housed a majority of the partners. About midway down a bank of offices, he stopped.

“What?” Harper looked around for a clue to the mystery.

Brent pointed to the sign on the door. “Harper Callahan” was printed on the nameplate in gold lettering. Stepping into the office, he switched on the lights.

“Wow!” Harper was impressed. The office was furnished more like that of a senior partner than a first level.

“I got to help pick out the furnishings. How did I do?” Brent asked, unable to mask his pride.

“You did great, but you’re a sly one, Brent. You were hoping this office would get me to change my mind, weren’t you? I know how you think.” Harper walked around, admiring the tastefully-appointed space.

“Harper?”

Harper looked to the door as Duncan Price waltzed in, smiling from ear to ear. “Welcome to your new office, counselor!”

Price extended his hand, which Harper shook.

“I’d better get back to work.” Brent made a beeline for the door. “I’ll talk to you soon, Harper.”

“Well, what do you think?” Duncan gestured around the room. “Did we get it right?”

Why does everything I do have to always get so complicated?

“Duncan, close the door, please, and take a seat.” Harper resisted the temptation to sit behind the large mahogany desk, instead opting for one of the guest chairs facing it.

Duncan sat his large butt down on the chair next to him and smiled. “Should we buzz Arthur to join us?”

“That won’t be necessary.” Harper crossed his legs and adjusted his tie.

“You look good, Harp. How are you feeling?” Duncan asked apprehensively, his smile fading.

“I feel great.” Harper leaned over the arm of the chair. “Duncan, I don’t want to waste your time or mine, so I’ll get right to the point. I’m not coming back to the firm.”

The partner was too seasoned to show much of a reaction. “Perhaps this decision hasn’t been properly thought out.”

Harper was surprised at how quickly this conversation had reached the fork in the road. He had two options: he could let loose years of frustration and anger at having to serve such an egotistical and pompous master, or he could hold it back and extricate himself from the situation without showing the slightest bit of apprehension or emotion. Just as quickly, he made his choice.

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