Will sat up in bed and thought back on the memories he had with his father; the fish they’d caught, the stories he’d passed on. He got up and walked to the small kitchen and got a bottle of juice out of the refrigerator. The clock on the stove said it was just past ten. He yawned and walked out the front door to the big porch that ran across the cabin. Something immediately seemed out of place and then he saw a red Porsche convertible sitting in the dirt driveway behind his truck. What the hell?
Setting the juice down on the rail of the porch, he walked out to the car. The convertible top was down, and a set of keys was lying on the tan leather seat. He reached down and grabbed the key ring, seeing there were three other keys besides the one for the car. He looked around trying to sort out how and what and why in his head.
The sound of a car coming through the woods on his road caused him to look up. He saw a blue and white police car come around the last stand of trees. Boyne City Police was lettered on the side door and two officers were sitting in the front seat. The car came to a stop behind the red convertible and both officers got out.
“Mornin’ Will,” said the officer who had been driving the patrol car.
“Mornin’ to you, Freddie.” Will had been friends with Fred Grant since they were boys.
“Nice ride, Will,” Officer Grant said, walking around the Porsche. “When’d you get it?”
“You know I don’t have a car like this, Freddie. I just came out this morning and the damned thing’s sitting on my road.”
“You got company?”
“Not so I can see,” Will said, looking around.
Officer Grant stood looking at him for a few moments and then over at his partner who was standing on the other side of the convertible. “Well, here’s what seems to be coming down, Will. We got a call early this morning, about two, that some Indian boy they said, was joy ridin’ around in this fancy red convertible and it just didn’t look right. Then about two hours ago we get this call that a red Porsche was missing overnight.”
Will felt a chill run through him and he swallowed hard. “Now Freddie, that’s damn nonsense. You know me, I’m no car thief. Who the hell called you?”
“Last night, don’t know… anonymous call,” Grant said. “This morning, a young Ms. Wainwright from Charlevoix called and said her car was gone when she woke up today. We just been driving around this morning checking out a few people we know who fit the description.”
The fear building from deep within him turned suddenly to anger. “There’s no damn way you think I stole this car, Freddie!” Will said.
“What am I supposed to think? We pull up, here’s the car. You got the keys in your hand.”
Sheriff Elam Stone was a man of routines. Every morning he got his coffee from the shop down on Bridge Street. He always offered to pay. They never took his money, but he never stopped offering. He always got a paper out of the machine in front of the bookstore. Damn, when did papers start costing two bucks! He sat down at one of the tables in front of the coffee shop and took a sip from the coffee. He hadn’t put the lid down snug and the hot liquid spilled out on his chin and down the front of his shirt. “Damn!”
The cell phone on his belt started ringing and he grabbed some napkins from a dispenser on the table and tried to dry himself off. He touched the button on his phone. “Stone here.”
It was Jacob Henry from down at the coroner’s office. “Morning, Elam, it’s Henry.
The sheriff was still blotting at the coffee stains on his shirt. “Whatta you got?”
“Took a while for the boys down in Lansing, all that fancy lab crap they’ve got down there, but they got some DNA off that knife in the Hansen case.”
“You’re shittin’ me,” the sheriff said. “That thing’s sitting on the bottom of the lake for how long? There’s still DNA?”
“Yeah, they got a match, too.
Sheriff Stone forgot his coffee and paper and started walking fast to his car, the coroner’s voice going on in his ear.
Alex and Anna sat at a table up on the rear deck of the EmmaLee. Three places were set for breakfast. The third seat was empty, and the plate was covered with a silver lid. It was early morning on Round Lake and the gulls were just getting about their business, flying up high and looking down for dead bait fish or other possible snacks dropped overboard the night before. A light breeze came over the side of the ship, but the sun up over the trees was warm at their backs.
“Just like Louis Kramer to be late for a damn meeting,” Alex said. “I’m not sure I ever remember him showing up on time.”
“How in the world did you ever get into business with this guy, Alex?” Anna asked and then filled her mouth with cheese omelet.
“We met back in school, fraternity brothers, the whole fraternal bond crap,” Alex said. “The guy’s as smart as a whip and I don’t know, we just started working on some ideas after we got out of business school and one thing led to another.”
“Well here comes the man of the hour now,” Anna said. Alex looked over and saw the launch coming out from the docks towards the EmmaLee. Louis Kramer was sitting up in the front seat with a brown leather briefcase on his lap. The crewman stood in the back of the boat, hands on the wheel. Alex and Louis made eye contact across the water, but neither of them changed expression.
A few minutes later, when Louis walked across the deck toward the table, Alex and Anna both remained seated and offered no welcome. He sat at the empty chair and placed his briefcase on the deck beside him and then glanced at both Anna and Alex before finally speaking.
“I believe this meeting is officially called to order,” he announced with a smirk.
“Cut the comedy, Louis,” Alex said. “Let’s start with you explaining what in hell you were thinking!”
“Oh, so we’re going to postpone the niceties.” Louis said.
“Lou, I’m serious,” Alex said. “I want straight answers now. No bullshit, no more lies. If I get even the slightest hint of a smokescreen here, this meeting is over and from now on, my lawyer will talk to your lawyer, period.”
“Message received,” Louis said solemnly. “So, let me cut to the chase. For the past few weeks all I’m hearing from you and your attorney here is… What have you done, Louis? What were you thinking, Louis?” He paused again, looking for a moment at both of them. “What you’re failing to remember Alex, and frankly it blows my mind your memory is this selective …what you’re failing to remember are the dozen meetings we both sat together in discussing all of these accounting issues with full disclosure from our chief financial officer. What you’re also choosing to forget is your signature on all of the documentation related to these transactions.”
“Alex, what in hell is he talking about?” Anna asked.
Alex sat silent for a moment, looking at his partner. “Louis, let me be very clear,” Alex began, “at no time did I observe, condone or approve any of the crap you and Littlefair have pulled here.”
Louis Kramer shook his head and smiled. There was a coffee pot on the table, and he reached out and poured a cup. After he took a sip he said, “Clark, you are really good,” Louis finally said. “You are really damn good. I just can’t figure if you are really this naïve and stupid, or the best dang liar I’ve ever seen.”
“Kramer, you better start offering some proof around these allegations or this meeting is truly over,” Anna said.
He lifted the covered breakfast plate in front of him and set it down across the table, then reached for his bag and began pulling folders out. From one of the folders he pulled a stack of papers he placed in front of him. “Okay, this first stack of documents are the official meeting notes from fourteen different meetings attended by our friend here, Alex Clark. You will see that during these meetings we openly discussed every damn issue the SEC is trying to nail our ass on. Alex, you were an active participant in those discussions and approved the decisions that were made.”
Alex stood up and pushed his chair back. “You are so full of shit, Krame
r! I don’t know where these so-called documents came from, but clearly they’re fabricated.”
Anna reached over to look through the papers.
“Of course, Alex, I didn’t expect you to just sit here and confess everything here in front of Ms. Bataglia,” Louis said.
“There’s nothing to confess, goddammit!” Alex yelled.
“Louis, there are no other people listed as attendees in these meetings,” Anna said. “Are you trying to tell me during this entire span of time no one else from your company ever sat in on any of these meetings with you, Littlefair and Alex?” Anna asked.
“Ah, counselor, these are fairly sensitive issues. We didn’t call an annual meeting of shareholders to discuss this shit!”
“And who took the notes and wrote up the minutes,” Anna demanded.
Kramer smiled and said, “Our CFO, Mr. Littlefair.”
“Let me see this stuff,” Alex asked, reaching for the papers from Anna.
“While you’re glancing at all this, let me also present the second file that includes your signature on a dozen documents that authorize the transactions we’re getting raked over the coals on.”
“This is bullshit!” Alex said, kicking his chair back and sending it toppling across the deck.
“Alex, just sit down,” Anna said. “Let’s hear him out. I assume these are duplicates we can keep and review,” she said, referring to the files.
“Absolutely, “Kramer said, “and before you start claiming fraud and this is all fabricated, let me also remind you, Alex, not six months ago, we were together for lunch at the Drake Hotel in Chicago after a meeting with some of our investors. We both agreed the delays in Engineering were going to spook the market and our stock was going to tank. We also agreed with our CFO’s recommendation to do some creative accounting with the financial reporting to the Street. Don’t tell me you slept through that discussion, too.”
Anna looked over at Alex. He sat there for a moment looking through the papers in front of him without speaking. Then he looked up at Louis Kramer. “This is the biggest pile of crap I’ve ever seen Kramer. I don’t know how long it took you to pull all this shit together and who you got to forge these signatures, but no judge is going to believe you.”
“Of course, they’ll believe it!” Kramer said with smirk spreading across his face. “And when they check your calendar over all these months, they’ll see you attended each of these meetings.”
“What in hell are you trying to pull here, Kramer?” Anna asked.
“Obviously we need a united front against the Feds. If we’re not together on this, they’ll tear us apart and everybody’s going down. Together, without access to any of the paperwork on this table of course, they don’t have a prayer in making anything stick.”
“So, if I’m getting this right,” Anna began, “now you’re blackmailing your partner with fabricated documents to back up your lies and fraudulent activities.”
“You use such harsh language, counselor,” Louis Kramer said. “I think it would be more appropriate to describe all of this as insurance.”
“Insurance that I won’t throw your ass under the bus!” Alex said. “Get the hell off my boat and out of my sight before I throw your fat ass overboard!” He started around the table towards Kramer.
Louis stood up quickly and put his hands up to block Alex’s advance. “Just settle down now, partner.”
“Partner!” Alex scoffed. “I knew you were getting in over your head on some other deals, but I never thought you’d betray our trust after all these years.”
“It’s a cold world out there, partner,” Louis said.
Alex came around the table and grabbed Louis’s shirt under the neck. Anna jumped up and tried to squeeze between the two of them.
“Alex, let him go. This won’t help,” she said.
Alex released his grip and watched as the man picked up his bag. As he turned to leave, he stopped and looked at Anna. “See you in court, counselor.”
“Vince Slayton?”
“Yeah, you heard of him?” the coroner, Jacob Henry asked.
Sheriff Elam Stone sat across the small table in his office. “I know Slayton and his brothers. They’re all bad news, been in and out of jail for generations.”
“So, he’s local?” the coroner asked.
“Uh huh, they all live near each other out south of town.” Stone kept looking down at the evidence report on the table in front of him. “So, what do you think went down here? This creep, Slayton, encourages old man Hansen out of his boat with this big pig sticker of a knife. Then he drowns him, probably just holds his head underwater ‘til he stops kicking and then drags him back into the boat.”
“And he drops the knife while he’s struggling with the old man,” the coroner adds.
“What would Slayton have against George Hansen?”
“That would be your job to find out, Sheriff.”
Sally called ahead to get the launch to take her out to the EmmaLee. On the ride out to the boat she saw Alex and Anna Bataglia sitting at a table up on deck. There was no sign of Louis Kramer. As she came onboard, Megan came up from below and ran into her with her friend Rebecca.
“Hey, good morning, Sally.”
“Hi girls, how’d you sleep out here?”
“Like a baby,” Rebecca said.
“Good, I just came out to check on your father,” Sally said. “Can’t have him working all day here in God’s Country.”
“They’re around back,” Megan said, pointing to the rear of the ship. “Becca and I are going to go up to Petoskey for the day to do a little shopping, eat a little good food.”
“Sounds great,” said Sally. “Why don’t you take the Jeep that’s up at the house.”
Megan said, “Thanks, we’ll be back for dinner, what… around six?” she asked her friend.
“Yeah, six.”
Sally gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek. “You drive safe.”
The girls headed down the stairs to the launch and Sally continued to walk back to find Alex. When she came around the aft cabin, she saw Alex and Anna deep in conversation. They were leaning in close across the table and Anna had her hand over Alex’s. She pulled it quickly away when she noticed Sally standing there. Sally felt little prickles of anger up the back of her neck but tried to remain calm.
Alex turned when he saw Anna look up. “Hey, honey, join us.” He motioned to the seat next to him.
Sally sat down and put her large shoulder bag on the deck. “You two seem busy. Maybe I should come back.”
“No, we’re just going back over our friend, Louie Kramer and the A-bombs he dropped on us this morning,” Anna said.
“Bad meeting?” Sally asked.
“The sonofabitch has fabricated an entire scenario that implicates me in his fraud, and he’s blackmailing me to cooperate with him in the defense.” Alex pressed a buzzer sitting on the table.
“It’s a slick move, Alex,” Anna said. “I need some time to look through these documents he left with us, but it looks pretty damned convincing.”
A young woman wearing a crew uniform came up to the table. “Yes, Mr. Clark?”
“Sally, do you want any breakfast, something to drink?” he asked.
“Just some coffee please,” Sally said. “I ate up at the house.”
The girl nodded and walked away. Sally looked across the table at Anna Bataglia. As usual, she was immaculately dressed, this time in a white silk dress, open generously at the neck. A diamond pendant hung in the tanned cleavage of her breasts. There were more diamonds adorning her wrists and two other fingers, although no wedding ring. Sally knew Anna had left her husband over a year ago.
Anna pushed her chair back and said, “Why don’t I leave you two to enjoy a little time together. I’m going below and look over these papers and make a few calls back to New York.” She smiled down at Sally with what seemed to be a sincere effort.
“Thanks Anna,” Alex said. “You need to give me a point
of view on this Kramer bullshit, fast! We can’t let this go any further.”
“Give me a couple hours.” She picked up her stack of papers and bag and walked around the corner.
Sally looked at her husband seeing the lines of worry and stress around his eyes, the uncharacteristic clench of his jaw, the nervous tapping of fingers. She reached over and touched his face. “I love you, Alex Matthew Clark.”
He had been looking down in his coffee cup. When he looked up, his face brightened, and he smiled at her. “Let’s get out of here for a while.”
Thirty minutes later a crew member pulled the little Chris Craft, EmmaLee II, up along side the big ship. Alex and Sally climbed in as the crewman held the boat for them and then pushed them away.
“You drive,” Alex said as he helped Sally up into the front seats.
“How much time do we have?” Sally asked.
“As much as we need.”
Sally pressed the throttle down to a low speed, keeping the wake low. The familiar feel of the boat came back to her and as always, she marveled at the classic beauty of the old boat and the memories shared with her family rushed through her mind. She steered the boat slowly out toward the channel to Lake Charlevoix, selecting a course along the south shore of Round Lake, along the spectacular new homes that had been built in recent years and older boathouses that had been restored. The EmmaLee’s original boathouse from back in the 30’s when her grandfather had owned the ship had been converted to condominiums and stood elegantly against the hill, the docks full of large sailboats and motor yachts.
She thought back to pictures of the big ship tied up there and her mother, Emily, on the deck of the EmmaLee. Her father, Jonathan McKendry, had restored this old Chris Craft for her as a present from her father. She remembered a story her father told her about cruising by the big ship right where they were now and first falling in love with her mother. As always when memories of her parents came back to her, she subconsciously threw up a wall in her mind to block the pain from when they were both lost out on the big lake with her daughter, Ellen, those many years ago. She looked back over at her husband, Alex.
The Summer Town Page 13
