Chapter 36
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Sitka, AK
Chilton paced between the moose and salmon, running his hand along the edge of his desk. He willed the phone to ring. Anya hadn’t responded, and he’d left six or seven—he’d lost count—increasingly frantic messages on her answering machine.
Do not let her ruin this for you. Do what you have to do, and just convince her to go along. You’re earning her a fortune, for Chrissakes. She should be more than grateful.
The radio on top of his filing cabinet crackled out the local daily messages. “…anyone who may have seen Mike Z from Tenakee, please tell him from Julie: ‘I’m sorry and I wish he would come home.’ ”
Chilton knew what had to be done. It was a risk, for sure, but he had to land this deal at all costs. It would be his fortune too, or at least a good chunk of it, and he needed to look after them both.
So what if it’s a little gray on the ethics side? It’ll all come out in the wash.
He took a swig from his flask and slipped it back into his pocket.
The taxidermy moose head glared at him in disapproval, as usual.
Chilton took a deep breath, reached across the desk, lifted up the receiver, and dialed the number.
He put the handset between his ear and shoulder, grabbed a peppermint from the bowl on his desk, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth.
“Reminder about the weekly AA meeting tonight at the Salvation Army building on Sawmill Creek Ro—” The radio messages were getting a little too personal now. Chilton turned down the volume before anyone answered the phone.
“I’d begun to think you weren’t going to call, Mr. Chilton.” The familiar voice of June. “Has your client made a decision?”
“How did you…” The mint tangled up his tongue.
He spit it into his hand, walking around the desk and reaching for a tissue with the other to wipe off the sticky pink goo.
“Oh, never mind. Good morning to you as well, June. Yes, after some persuading from myself, my client has reluctantly agreed to part with her fishing cabin island. You can tell your man she’ll be ready to sign when he arrives. ”
Chilton leaned against the folding metal chair on the client side of his desk and lost his balance as the chair began to fold up on him.
He recovered, but the receiver fell from his shoulder and banged on the desk.
He reached to retrieve it and knocked the chair over again.
It clanged to the floor, denting the corner of the desk on its way down.
“Mr. Chilton, everything okay?” June’s voice emerged from the dangling receiver. “Are you still there?”
Chilton grabbed the handset with his sticky hand and pulled it back to his ear. “Yes, sorry, we just had a bit of a commotion in the office here. One of my assistants knocked over a chair. When will your man be arriving? Should I send someone to gather him at the airport?”
“No, sir. He’ll find his own local transport.” June was right back to business. “He should arrive tomorrow evening and will show up at your office at seven a.m. sharp the following morning. Be sure your client is not late. He’s flying out of town shortly after.”
Great. How will I be able to explain my client not being here?
Chilton tried to recover. “I misspoke. I’ll be signing on my client’s behalf. She, uh…my client has signed a power of attorney, so there will be no problem.”
Need to fake up a POA…She can’t really object if I’m earning her a fortune.
“Be sure there isn’t, Mr. Chilton. Good day.” June signed off.
Chilton took another swig from his flask, pacing the office.
He was far afoul of legal ethics, but he was holding on to the hope that Anya would understand the huge favor he was doing her and overlook details like his 30 percent contingency fee that she hadn’t agreed to, the power of attorney she hadn’t signed, and him selling the fishing cabin without her consent.
The radio was still barely audible. “…screenings of The Shining at the Coliseum Thea…downtown, Saturday at…p.m. and seven p.m.”
This deal would be his salvation. He’d fix up the office to be first class, put in some carpet, do some advertising, get some real clients.
He could buy a new place, maybe rent out the old one for some side income.
He might even stop drinking. Hell, with this much money he could take a year off and just travel—Acapulco would be nice: warm water, sunny beaches.
Everything was turning around for him.