Chapter 1
The first time Mitch stepped into the ornate lobby of the Peabody Hotel in downtown Memphis, he was two months shy of his twenty-fifth birthday.
He was a third-year student at Harvard Law and would graduate the following spring fourth in his class.
In his pocket he had three other splendid job offers from prestigious firms, two in New York and one in Chicago.
None of his friends could understand why he would waste a trip to Memphis, which was not exactly in the major leagues of Big Law. Abby was also skeptical.
He was driven by greed. Though the Bendini firm was tiny, only forty lawyers, it was offering more money and perks than the others, including a faster track to a partnership and the big bucks.
But Mitch had rationalized the greed, even managed to deny it, and convinced himself that a small-town kid would feel more at home in a smaller city.
The firm had a family feel to it, and no one ever left.
Not alive anyway. He should have known that an offer too good to be true came with serious strings and baggage.
At the time, he and Abby lasted only seven months and felt lucky to escape.
Back then they had walked through the lobby, holding hands and gawking at the rich furnishings, oriental rugs, art, and the fabulous fountain in the center with ducks swimming in circles.
The ducks were still swimming, and he wondered if they were the same ones.
He got a diet soda at the bar and fell into a comfortable chair near the fountain.
The memories came in a torrent: the giddiness of being heavily recruited; the relief that law school was almost over; the certainty of a bright future; the excitement of launching a career that few could even dream of.
A new home, fancy car, fat salary, even talk of starting a family.
Sure, he’d had some doubts, but they had begun to dissipate the moment he entered the Peabody.
How could he have been so foolish? Had it really been fifteen years? They were just kids back then and so na?ve.
He finished his soda and walked to the desk to check in.
He had reserved a room for one night under the name of Mitchell Y.
McDeere, and as he waited for the receptionist to find his reservation, he had the fleeting thought that someone might remember him.
But the receptionist did not, now would anyone else?
Too much time had passed, and the conspirators who’d chased him were long gone.
He went to his room, changed into jeans, and left the hotel for a walk.
Three blocks away on Front Street he stood and looked up at a five-story edifice once known as the Bendini Building.
He almost shuddered at the memories of his brief but complicated time there.
He recalled names and saw old faces, all entertained there by younger members of the firm and their spouses.
Everyone had a spouse. All the lawyers were men.
Those were the unwritten rules at Bendini back then.
Later, when Mitch and Abby were alone at the hotel, they had a quiet drink on the roof, and he made the calamitous decision to take the job.
Now Mitch got a beer, leaned on the railing, and watched the Mississippi River wind its way past Memphis on its eternal voyage to New Orleans.
Massive barges loaded with soybeans inched along under the bridge to Arkansas as the sun finally set beyond the cotton fields.
Nostalgia failed him. The days of such promise had vanished within weeks as their lives became an unbelievable nightmare.
Almost from the beginning they had sensed that someone was watching and listening. If only they had known what lay ahead.