“I can see that.”
Nick knew Jack never worried about JHI. He had never needed to stress. Any time a situation cropped up, he quickly and efficiently fixed it. That was one of his duties as CEO. Problem fixer.
Jack scratched his forehead. He was always smiling or at least having a peaceful look on his face, but he had neither this morning. “Our sales are up. So is our revenue. Definitely some embezzlement going on here.”
Nick glanced at the door. It was shut and locked. He and Hunter were the only ones privy to the audit. He preferred to keep it that way. “Definitely, Harry is responsible. How’d he funnel out two hundred thirteen million and nobody know it?”
“I don’t remember authorizing him as a signer on the reserve account.”
“We can get the bank to pull the signature card.”
“What about the revenue? Where is it?”
“I don’t know. Assets are going out, and we don’t even know where. We need a team of auditors in here ASAP to investigate.”
“Call them.”
“Done. They’ll be here next month.”
“We need them now.”
“The only group with the capacity for something of this magnitude can’t come until next month. It’ll take them six to nine months to go through every subsidiary in Saint Stephen’s. They’ll trace the profits and the reserves. There are accounts we didn’t even know existed. I need the names of the banks. We may have to sue Harry after he’s dismissed.”
“We’ll do whatever is needed.”
“This mess will be cleaned up before our regularly scheduled audit. We can make it until then using our line of credit. I’m sure of it. Can we call Mr. Keaton in and fire him now?”
“Not yet.” Hunter clenched his teeth, paused a few seconds, and then ordered, “Nick, I want you to e-mail a copy of this to the board. And tell them I’m requesting an emergency meeting this afternoon at three. You be there too.”
No! “Sir, why give this to the board? It’s like passing out cyanide.”
Hunter raised his brow, a definite sign of his disagreement.
Nick felt feverish. “Sir, this could be calamitous. The stock will tank. Our reputation damaged. Everybody will lose if that happens. The stockholders…the employees. This information needs to be trashed.”
“I can’t ignore it. The employees’ retirement accounts are invested in this company—others invested their life savings.”
“Sir, I admire your transparency, but this report is a sham.”
Hunter glared over at Nick. “You prepared it!”
“Let me rephrase. The numbers are skewed from embezzlement. You said that yourself.”
Hunter pointed at the wrinkled papers. “That’s where we are right now. Correct?”
“But we’re not compelled to disclose this to anyone. These numbers don’t have to leave this room. I can drag Harry along, just like he has done, with the flash drives.” Nick’s assessment was correct. He didn’t need to explain the risk to Hunter.
Hunter looked steadily at Nick as they engaged in their most combative conversation. “Regulations set boundaries. Lines you don’t cross or laws will be broken. I’m not only doing what is legal; I’m doing what’s right. Every day new funds are invested in our stock.” He glanced over at a framed portrait of himself and his father and then back at Nick. “You think I’m making an irrational decision, don’t you?”
Life in the office briefly stopped. No one even blinked until Nick responded, “Sir…” He stammered, “Well…yes. I do.”
“You’ve got backbone.”
Nick cleared his throat. “Sometimes my backbone gets me into trouble.”
“You’re not in trouble. But you need to understand that I made this decision when I started this company.”
“Sir, you never thought your childhood friend would embezzle a couple hundred million from you.”
“Doesn’t matter. I decided long before a crisis what I’d do if the bottom falls out. When the truth could cost me everything.”
Nick slumped slightly.
Hunter took the six clipped pages and slid them across the desk. “Now e-mail this to the board.”
“Yes, sir.” Nick got up to leave.
“And, Nick…” Hunter walked along him. “You may not understand today, maybe not even tomorrow. I hope I live to see the day when you’ll know I was right.”
Nick’s eyes filled.
“Don’t worry. We’ll straighten this out. And, Nick, even if things spiral down like you think, this is still the right thing to do. As long as I’m CEO, we’re doing the right thing. Got it?”
Nick acknowledged Hunter and left. He went to his office and prepared the dreaded e-mail. No explanation was given, just: “See attached report and be at the board meeting this afternoon.” Pressing send was more painful than tearing an ACL.
Just before he conked out, Nick e-mailed Jack a bulletproof spiel for the meeting. He hoped Jack would memorize it. All Jack needed to do was point a finger in Keaton’s direction, fire him, and proceed to build the company back up. Simple. Then they could spend the next year going after the assets while they recouped their balance sheets.
A few hours later, he sprung the chair back from his desk and checked his watch. He had surpassed his catnap by an hour. He dashed to the men’s room, rolled up his sleeves, turned on the water, splashed his face a few times, dabbed it off, and ran back to retrieve his jacket. He was due back in Jack’s office.
Donna, Hunter’s assistant, was stationed outside. The middle-aged woman, with flipped hair, was loyal to her boss of sixteen years. “Mr. Hunter came out a second ago looking for you,” she said gloomy faced, when Nick entered the suite.
Nick acknowledged her with a nod and went straight into Jack’s office. He didn’t need to say anything. Donna had made copies of the audit. She knew what was in it.
Jack stood gazing out a window. He had witnessed most of the surrounding buildings crop up like weeds. He and Bea rode out their first hurricane in his office. The building swayed, but not a single glass broke. “Nick, I’ve made a decision,” Hunter stated as he turned around.
“Yes, sir.” Nick had a hand in his pocket, shuffling a few coins.
“You’re not going to like it.”
“I’m not…sir?” Nick stared up at the ceiling, figuring Hunter was right. “Aren’t you firing Mr. Keaton? That would get my happy face back on.” Nick edged out a chuckle.
“Nope. Not just yet.”
“Sir?”
“Bea thinks Harry wants me out.”
“Probably would make his day. Fire him. Just fire him.”
“No. Nick, when you want to catch a fox in the henhouse, you watch and wait for the fox to come back. That’s when you nab him.”
“Sir, are you going to base this decision on a fox stealing hens? I’m not so sure that’s the best thing right now.”
“I’m leaving Harry in place until the company’s back on stable ground.”
“Sir, no! Please no.” Nick passed his hand through his hair. “We talked about this.”
“Why hasn’t Harry taken off?”
“I’ve pondered that question myself.”
“He can’t get to the assets. Wherever the assets are, he can’t get to them. That kind of money can’t just suddenly show up in his account—he’d be caught.”
“Then what can you do to prompt him to fix this?”
“Take a vacation.”
“Seriously, a vacation?” Nick looked as shocked as he sounded. “Sir, are you feeling well?”
“A leave of absence.”
Nick shook his head. “No, sir. Please, no.”
“Harry caused this mess. Therefore, he can pull this company out of it quicker than the auditors can get here. I’m going to put him in charge while I’m gone.”
“How do you know he won’t destroy it?”
“Because he needs this company. He would have already left if he didn’t. Listen very closely to what he s
ays today. Oh, and one more thing.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Don’t defend me.”
“What if I’m asked a question?”
“Won’t happen. This meeting won’t be a fact-finding mission.” Hunter bent, scraped a wad of dirt from his shoe, and tossed it into the trash. Getting up, he buttoned his jacket. “Now let’s go.”
The hallway was silent from Jack’s office to the boardroom. Hunter entered to a sudden hush. They had been talking about him, most certainly, not in a good way. Hunter took his seat at the head of the table. Nick pulled up a fold-out chair a few feet to the left of Hunter.
Keaton was to Hunter’s right. His suit jacket hung on the back of his chair, and a red tie was wrapped around his neck. Next to Keaton was Thomas Qualls. A frown never left his face. He was a ditto stamp for anything Keaton proposed. Bill Clayton was across from Keaton. Fifty years ago, he was a steer wrestler; last forty, a successful wildcatter. He chartered a bank and funded it himself. Next to Clayton was the former CFO, Charlie Denison. Charlie had been with the company twenty-plus years before a forced medical retirement.
“Good morning.” It was the first time Hunter addressed the group without putting a smile on every face in the room. “Let’s keep this informal. You’ve seen the audit Mr. Dichiara put together. Bottom line—we don’t have enough capital to complete the next month. We’re operating in the red. Basically broke. I don’t know what else to say, except I take full responsibility. I’m making the appropriate moves. We’ll use our line of credit until we get everything back in order. The company will back on track within six months. Any questions?”
Any questions? They should have a thousand questions.
Keaton broke the silence. “Jack, we’re heading to bankruptcy.”
There he goes. Fire him!
“Bankruptcy can be avoided,” reputed Jack.
“I’ve come up with an alternative plan,” Keaton said. “A plan that will save us from bankruptcy.”
Nick was coming unglued, making sharp, erratic moves. Clayton and Denison didn’t seem shocked by Keaton’s suggestion—not a good sign for Jack. They had been prepped. Suddenly the haze cleared. Jack had been set up. Keaton had tainted the board.
“Jack, you’re the largest shareholder,” Keaton said. “Transfer your shares over to me and let me fix the problem, or the company will fail and our stock will be worthless.”
Keaton’s such a con man.
“Harry, we don’t know what’s going on yet,” argued Hunter. “If you know something I don’t know, you need to say it now.”
All eyes turned to Keaton.
“Well, no,” he said, shifting. “But do you know what bankruptcy means? A change in management. If you want this company to survive, we must have a regime change.” Keaton sounded like he was orchestrating a Third World coup.
Hunter muttered, “I’ll agree to a leave of absence.”
“That’s not good enough. You need to transfer your interest and resign.”
Transfer him to a jail cell!
“You want me to give you my shares?”
“I’ll give you what I can, but everyone in this room will lose if we file for bankruptcy. Investors might get a penny on the dollar. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”
Nick cleared his throat, trying to get Jack’s attention.
Hunter, fire Keaton now.
Clayton had heard enough. “Jack, what happened?”
Hunter covered his mouth, dropped his hand, and said, “I don’t know.”
Denison said, “I hate to say it, but Harry is correct. The company could file bankruptcy. It may be the best thing, whether Jack stays on or not.”
Keaton interrupted. “Jack has to go and relinquish all interest in the company. We can make the necessary changes and be back on track by the next quarter.”
“That’s absurd,” Hunter said. “You’re straining out a gnat and then swallowing a horse!”
Harry pointed a finger at Jack, the same finger Nick advised Jack to point at Harry. “You must resign!” he blasted. “I’ll take on all the risk, only if I have total control. But you absolutely must resign!”
Hunter slapped the table. “Fine. I’ll resign, if that’s what you want, Harry, but I’ve got something I want you to sign in my office.”
What’s he doing?
“Sure, Jack, anything.” Keaton passed a prepared document and his gold pen to Hunter. “Sign here.”
Hunter’s hand convulsed, opening and closing several times, before he picked up the pen, tightened his grip, and signed away Jack Hunter Industries. With a few strokes of a pen, the man was out.
Jack had been sucker-punched. Beaten down. And he tapped out. Nick expected something slimy from the leech. Clayton and Denison sitting quietly by watching Jack get slaughtered was shocking.
No one offered Jack a gold watch—not even a worthless plaque—celebrating his tenure. The only thing they gave Jack Hunter was a boot out the door. The meeting was adjourned. The CEO was replaced.
Jack swung around and confidently tilted his head at Nick. Then he walked out. Nick stared, in wonder, at Jack’s submission to the dysfunctional board. Then he left. He stopped in the hall outside his office and looked back at the conference room. The noise from board members conversing easily carried itself down the slick walls. He took a few reverse steps back.
Clayton had gripped Keaton’s tie. “I don’t care if I lose every dime I have in this company. Jack was man enough to stand down today, but you better remember that he’s my friend, and I’m bringing him back. I don’t like hurting him, so you, Mr. Keaton, had better be a fast performer. Because one way or another, Jack Hunter will be back within a year. And you can count on that.”
Keaton gagged. Clayton finally let him loose.
“You have nothing to worry about,” Keaton said, easing the compression around his throat. “I know how to whip this place back in shape.” Keaton’s apparent self-confidence hadn’t impressed anyone, especially Clayton.
Denison was up next. “You took full advantage of my absence. Let me tell you, I’ll be watching every move you make. Twenty-one years as CFO. The worst thing I had to deal with was missing toilet paper. I still think you were the culprit.”
Harry shook his head.
They stood down.
Hunter, Clayton, and Denison were all ex-military. They knew when to stand down to an enemy. And this was one of those times.
Chapter twenty-four
Jack Hunter began liquidating the family’s remaining assets. He sold everything of value, except the family farm. He had cosigned all JHI notes, and he wasn’t going to let them default. He would have sold the farm too, if it hadn’t been in a trust that made it unsalable. He left Houston with little to nothing but owing no one anything.
The farm where Jack was born, in Grey County, was an hour and a half northwest of Houston. The twenty dense acres had a two-bedroom, one-bath, fourteen-hundred-square-foot wood-frame home on the front side of the property. Most everything in it was over half a century old, including the family portraits scattered along the walls. Pine trees clustered around the exterior, creating a distinctive aroma.
After supper on their first night, the family gathered on the front porch. David and Steely nestled in a swing on one end, his head in her lap with his eyes closed. Bea and Jack moved back and forth in wooden rocking chairs.
“I like it here,” Steely said. “My parents took me to a dude ranch once.”
“This is not a dude ranch,” Bea snipped.
“I still like being out in the woods,” said Steely.
Beatrice slapped her arm and then her leg. “The mosquitos are eating me up. Jack, will you please tell us why we’re out here, before I get the virus?”
“I found a job clearing brush for Energy Oil. It’s an hour away, but it will be steady work. I start tomorrow.”
“Brush?” Bea said. “Jack, you’re in your sixties!”
“I can still work. David w
ill go with me. Steely, you still want to keep our books?”
“I’d be glad to.”
Bea threw her head back. “I feel like I’m in la-la land!”
Hunter patted Bea on the leg. “Honey, we’re going to be all right.” Then he gave her a peck on the cheek.
Bea rose abruptly, which was customary when her emotions ran high. “OK, you and David are cutting grass. She’s keeping the books. I’m going inside before the cobbler gets cold.”
Steely learned the first week that her challenge wasn’t in taking care of the company finances. She was fully equipped to pay the bills of the small company. She wasn’t equipped to keep Beatrice Hunter from becoming “overly nervous.” Some days were good, but some days she’d rather be riding on the tractor in ninety-nine-degree heat, with 90 percent humidity, getting a red neck, than be in an air-conditioned house with her mother-in-law.
The guys had already been gone several hours before Bea rolled out of bed, garbed in her flowered shift. She strolled to the kitchen, poured a cup of coffee from the pot Jack had made, and headed for the living room. She stood by a window, took a swig from the cup, and said, “I’m going to lose my mind if I don’t get out of this rathole.”
Steely stretched out on a mat in her shorts and tank top, briefly stopping her routine. “Miss Bea, the exterminator’s coming the week after next to check for any critters in the house.”
“You like saying that, don’t you?”
Steely tilted her head. “Saying what?”
“Critters. Does that make you feel like a country woman?”
Steely scrunched her face. “What? The exterminator is coming in two weeks to check for rats. That’s all.” She stretched an arm over to one side and repeated the routine with the other.
“Everybody moves in slow motion in the country. It takes a week to do something that should take a couple of hours.” Bea raised the cup to her lips. “They’ll probably come riding up in a horse and buggy.”
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