TUESDAY, JULY 17
2:00 P.M.
JARED NEATON LAW OFFICE
MINNEAPOLIS
Ian looked past the end of the conference room table, taking in the rest of the small law office visible through the glass. The place wasn’t ostentatious. Not the kind of office designed to wow clients with thousands of dollars of art. But it was functional, focused, a place where things got done. He liked the solid sense of that.
He glanced at Brook at his elbow. In her eyes he could read a similar positive reaction.
“What do you think about our suggestion?” Brook asked.
Seated across from them, Jared Neaton looked up from their proposal in his hand. Like the office itself, the attorney struck Ian as the pragmatic type. A few years older than him, Ian had been hearing for some time about the lawyer’s growing reputation for civil litigation.
“Well, like we’ve been telling you all week,” Neaton observed, “we weren’t in the market to grow the firm. But a criminal law practice would complement our civil work. You two have very impressive credentials. And the deal’s fair.”
“When I was looking around,” Ian said, “I thought of you and how you handled the Paisley, Bowman, Battle and Rhodes firm a few years back.”
Jared smiled. “Not a fan of big firms?”
“Not my first choice for a career anymore,” Ian answered truthfully.
“What do you think, Jessie?” Jared asked, turning to the slender, pretty woman at his side. She smiled with discerning eyes.
Jared’s wife and legal assistant, Jessie had been in on every meeting and conversation they’d had about this merger over the whole of the past week. It had taken a few days of talks before Ian realized Jared wouldn’t even consider the merger without her complete comfort, advice, and assent.
Though she’d been amiable all week, today Jessie was all business. She set her copy of the proposal on the table and leaned forward, aiming her response at Brook. “Seems like it could work out well. So tell me, are there any ghosts in the closet likely to come back to haunt us?”
Ian felt a chill at the nature of the question. Apart from the irony, it wasn’t an area he was prepared to elaborate on. While sitting next to his sleeping mother in the hospital, he’d sworn that the trust and his parents’ role in it would not be going public. In fact, his anonymity with the press had been a critical element in the settlement Harry finalized with Eldon Carroll’s office. If he was forced to testify, his role would become public record. Short of that, it stayed in the background—for his mother and father’s reputations even more than his own.
Still, Jessie’s question hung in the air, spreading serious discomfort. “Actions have consequences.” The words drifted silently back to him, spoken in Martha’s convicting tone. What would he do when the tab came due from Anthony Ahmetti? What other consequences awaited from his family’s past?
Ian saw Brook’s chin drop briefly at Jessie’s question, a subtle sign she felt the struggle as well. But she recovered instantly.
“We’re good,” he heard her say. “Right, Ian?”
“Yep,” Ian responded immediately, knowing he’d make it true.
Brook turned the question back on their hosts. “How about you two?”
Jared smiled slowly, following with an equally slow shake of his head. “Nothing to share from our end either,” he said.
Jessie stood and extended a hand across the table. Jared followed suit.
“Sounds like we’ve got a deal,” she said. “Partners.”
And they shook on it.