Category Archives: Barry Kelly

The next morning at 9 AM Jack and Kathy were greeted in the law firm’s small lobby by the same receptionist Jack met just before his father died. “Good to see you again,” she said. Jack introduced Kathy and Shirley said, “Follow me. Mr. Jensen is ready to see you.”

Lee met Jack and Kathy at the door to his office and said, “Good to see you both. Mrs. Brandon, I only know you from your employment contract and other legal documents. In person is much better.”

“Please call me Kathy. Jack often talked about Lee Jensen but never told me how elegant your office is with the late eighteenth-century English antiques, dark, polished wood floors, and oriental carpets.”

“Thank you. I’m guessing you’re a Carolina girl.”

“Sure am and proud of it.”

Lee said, “I’m from South Carolina but went to Duke for my law degree.”

“Good. At least you have one flaw. We UNC girls from Chapel Hill never went to Durham very much.”

Lee laughed and looked at a puzzled Jack. “You just heard a put down of my law school from a very articulate if somewhat closed-minded UNC graduate toward her neighboring university.”

Kathy said, “I forgive you for being a Dukee. But you are the most elegant man I have ever seen from there. Maybe I’ll have to re-examine my bias.”

“Would some fresh brewed dark French roast coffee help you to come around?”

“I’m sure it would, black and strong.”

“That makes it easy.”

In no more than a minute, Shirley showed up with a pot of coffee.

After the coffee was poured, Jack took over the conversation and spoke for thirty minutes. He focused on general principles and avoided the operational details. Kathy knew he wanted to go deeper but had to see if Lee was being receptive. If not, the discussion would end before Lee learned any details that could put them in trouble. When Jack finished his presentation, Lee said, “I’ve heard a lot and seen as much but what you just told me is the most astonishing story I’ve ever heard. It’s a wonder the both of you are still alive.”

Jack said, “Without us at least several dozens of people would be dead. Our way of saving lives doesn’t focus on the crime or inflicting punishment for the crime. We have never hurt innocent people. When a terrorist or kidnapper is killed, it is to save the lives of victims or in self defense. There are few to no second chances. Your world of law and order is the foundation of our nation, but at times it is not enough. Justice comes in shades. We are in war. Nearly the same as you were when you got that scar across your left cheek in Vietnam. The only difference to me is that our enemies have brought the war to our homeland and they don’t wear uniforms. One of the few American citizens killed by me was a traitor to the United States who nearly killed Kathy. If I had tried to arrest him or even paused for a few seconds Kathy would be dead. I was carrying a badge at the time and know how to make an arrest and preserve the sanctity of the evidence. In dealing with terrorists, foreign or American, hesitation leads to the innocent paying the price. The price for following the legal process and the letter of law in these cases is too high. Anita, who died saving my life in an Asian country, knew none of us would hesitate. She knew she was dying yet she attacked and killed the terrorist trying to kill me.”

Lee said, “Like most lawyers, I look at the world through the prism of ‘legal and illegal.’ We hope our view includes ‘right versus wrong.’ You look at the world through yet another lens. The lens where you see what you can do to change injustice. In less moral hands your view is one saying the ‘end justifies the means.’ You can do small things under that philosophy but the running, managing, judging of governments requires more constancy. They require a rule of law imposed on the governed. From what you have told me, all of your actions so far have been with the consent and encouragement of duly sworn federal, state, or local governments. In short, you have been used by the government’s officials to do things they couldn’t do.”

The room was quiet and then Jack said, “Throughout our history there have been times when the protection of the citizenry required help from elsewhere than the government. These self-appointed law enforcement agents filled in the gap until the government could catch up. Our political focus on the law and order system for foreign nationals attacking our citizens and property is today seriously flawed. The threat from radical Islam and other organizations has not been recognized. The ‘law and order’ adherents want to combat all dangers to our society, its wealth and freedom within the bounds set by ‘law and order’ requirements decades or longer ago. Trying foreign terrorists in our court system and giving them the same rights as American citizens is more than unprecedented, it is dangerous. Reading terrorist bombers their rights and refusing to interrogate them is leading the nation to weaken its ability to protect our citizens and their property. Sending the FBI abroad to investigate a terrorist attack on U.S. installations before the smoke has even cleared shows the commitment of some of our people to political correctness and wanting everyone to love them by holding up our dedication to the spirit of ‘law and order’ for the world to admire. The world doesn’t admire this approach. Instead, they see it as endemic weakness and lack of resolve to face real issues with real solutions. Whatever you think of our past actions, we know that our willingness to act has saved a great number of innocent lives. I know how those people would vote.”

Another silence followed. Kathy cleared her throat and said, “We seem to have reached an impasse here.” She began to gather up her notes and added, “I know we can count on you to honor our client privilege. We have no plans to begin any action.”

Lee raised up one hand. “I haven’t said I wouldn’t continue to provide the legal support you need. I just want to protect you from consequences of a government with a short self-serving memory. In short, you cannot trust them. You are the kind of people they want to get rid of. No government employee is going to support you. We need to develop an entirely different way of doing business. To protect both you and me.”

Jack said, “I read your body language wrong. I was hearing a polite ‘please get out of my life.’”

“Fortunately or unfortunately, I hate to believe I cannot help a client that has made my firm what it is. My relationship with your father verged, at times, on the problem you now have. He never wanted me to be at risk. Being at risk cannot be helped at times. It is what people like you and, I hope me, do when faced with moral and legal challenges. What I would like is to have a person from your organization be detailed to me as a full-time liaison. Is that possible?”

“The purpose being to insulate both parties from direct contact?” Kathy asked.

“Precisely.”

“Yes, we can do that. Kathy and I will talk it over and send someone to see you. We will avoid coming to your office for any further meetings. I intend to set up an office for this person to work out of in McLean. The office will not be on record as a Brandon business.”

Feeling they had come to an understanding, Jack stood up and shook Lee’s hand firmly. The two men’s eyes met, then Jack and Kathy left the office.

Kathy was glad to get back to the Brandon McLean house. The rebuild greatly improved the space available. She remembered the first time she saw the house it was still burning from a terrorist attack that killed Jack’s father, and his two Vietnamese house staff and friends. Shadow was also badly wounded in the attack but managed to give the alarm and kill the man who shot him. Since then the house was run like a fort. All long-term houseguests like Kelly and Sally were given battle stations if the house ever came under attack. Kelly was in the Brandon house in Charleston when it was attacked and killed two of the attackers seconds after she rolled out of bed naked. She wasn’t astonished on her first visit when Mrs. Minh asked her if she wanted coffee or tea in the morning and did she have enough ammunition for her SOCOM. The Brandon motto was “Always be Ready.” Kelly had made sure to give Sally a heads up on what to expect on the trip down to McLean from Pittsburgh.

The Minhs served a superb dinner for the four of them once Jack and Kathy arrived. Vietnamese noodle soup with a dash of nuoc mam and a very acceptable Indian curry with home baked nan. Vietnamese ’33’ beer flowed freely. Sally remarked that she could learn to live like this. “It will be much easier as soon as my muscles stop hurting. I thought I was in shape. Your friend, Paul Kim, laughed at me when I told him I had studied Aikido and was in good shape. He was right. You hapkido people are something else. Three hours a day of instruction and another two hours of practice has wiped me out.”

Kathy laughed and said, “Been there, done that. It was one of the hardest things I ever did. The pain does go away after a few months.”

Kelly elbowed Sally and said, “See, that’s what I told you.”

After the house was asleep, except for Shadow who made random checks during the night, Jack sketched out his plan for meeting with Lee Jensen in the morning on a yellow pad. His thoughts turned to his priority needs. No question a good surveillance unit was the backbone of most investigations. He would ask Howie to fill that role. They could stay in Pittsburgh but be ready to travel anywhere in less than six hours. If Lou Washington would join them again, he and his daughter Storm could recruit and run an analytical unit with an audio and photographic capability. They would need an office in McLean or nearby. Kathy, using her CIA training and experience, could supervise the documents guy his father had used in Pittsburgh. She was the brains for designing and using alias documents. That left Lee Jensen and his law firm to handle the payrolls, cover companies, buying or leasing large items like planes and residences, and protecting the Brandon fortune and people.

An hour after Shadow with Gideon right behind him jumped out of the Suburban, they appeared panting and wet on the small deck at the cabin, where a generous stack of toasted cheese sandwiches were disappearing. Gideon flopped down in the Bouvier style of no endless turning around, just thump down where they’re standing. Jack laughed and said, “Shadow took him down to the creek. He loves that spot where the creek is only six inches deep and he can splash around in the water chasing minnows or his own shadow.”

Jack loved the cabin his father built when he was on the run from the KGB. With the diesel underground tank filled, the cabin was self-sufficient. A hidden war room and armory were built into the hillside behind the cabin. When Jack first explored the hidden room and its escape tunnel, he thought the tunnel was part of an abandoned family mine. He had promised himself one day he would explore the tunnel further.

The next morning Jack was sitting on the small deck after coming back from a run with Shadow and Gideon. He had to take it a bit easy for Shadow was showing his age and his old gunshot injury. Gideon’s stamina as a five-month-old puppy was still developing. Quit kidding yourself, Jack thought to himself. At 35, he had to work hard at keeping himself in top shape, too. After drinking and splashing water all around, Gideon flopped down in a shady spot and went to sleep. Shadow was at Jack’s feet in his guard position. Kathy stuck her head out of the door and asked what was happening.

“How about bringing ice tea for both of us,” Jack suggested. “I’ve something I want to talk about.”

“You’re scaring me. A Brandon that wants to talk. Hold that thought. I’ll be right out.”

When Kathy was seated with her back resting against the log wall, Jack said, “We are at a point where we need to consider some fundamental changes.”

“You have my full attention.”

“All our inside contacts are gone. We can no longer act as if we have an ace in the hole. No one in the government will be giving us information or protecting our backs. Remember a few years back when we had the full cooperation of Arjun Singh and his detective agency in New Delhi? We could have never completed our mission or gotten home safely without him. Even then we lost Anita in Kathmandu. After I killed Frank Batcher, our CIA contact who proved to be a traitor, we still had Sam Richfield as a link to the CIA. He is now in Tokyo and unable to help us. Even our police support, Captain Shorer, will retire this month. We are alone. What now?”

“Are you suggesting we try to find replacement insiders?”

“No. It would take too long and they would eventually and unexpectedly disappear. I’m suggesting that we build our own support system. We need an American Arjun Singh. We have all the money we need and enough contacts to start setting up separate units of support that can operate independently.”

“I’m glad we’re talking about this,” Kathy said. “We need help. The operation to take down the Night Lady and rescue Sally pushed the envelope hard. Everything worked right. You know how many times that happens? If we hadn’t been able to find and intercept that boat, Sally would now be a sex slave in some Arab country. We need some backup and support help. I suggest we call Lou and Storm Washington, they were a big help in taking down the al Qaeda sniper operation in D.C. last year. Lou should have recovered enough from the bullet in his lung to help us. I have a hunch they may be running short of the bonus you gave them.”

“They’re on my list. With them, a good detective agency, some analytical support, a small technical photo and audio shop, and a first-class documents guy, read forger, we would be ready to go. Our attorney, Lee Jensen, can help us. It’s time we briefed him. He is up to his neck in supporting us with notional companies, buying properties, managing the Brandon money and protecting it from government predators while paying our legal taxes. I’m almost certain we are his biggest client and he was my father’s closest friend.”

“When do we start all this?”

“I’m ready. Rested. I always love coming here. To finish the first part of our honeymoon here is the stuff of romance novels. You and I are the only people who know about this place. One of my dad’s words of wisdom was, ‘The only way to keep a secret is to tell no one.’ He believed everyone tells someone and that starts the chain to exposure.”

Kathy said, “Let’s keep that secret. I’ve often been tempted to ask you about bringing Kelly here, but have resisted.”

“For now, only we know. We can move out tomorrow morning. Gideon is coming along well. Shadow is doing most of the work. He’s certainly taught Gideon some manners. Shadow has always known what I expect and works at the task. Recall is the hardest thing to train. To have a dog drop whatever they are doing, including chasing a squirrel, and come on command, takes time and patience. If Gideon was out by himself, I’m sure he would at least think about it before coming to me. Shadow gives Gideon no option. When Shadow hears or sees the recall signal, they come in at full speed. Shadow and I will continue working with Gideon at our house in McLean. The exposure to people and traffic in McLean will help his socialization. Let’s be out of here by 8:00 AM. You drive. I’ll think about meeting with Lee Jensen in his law offices and maybe take a little nap.”

“Okay. We can get breakfast in Somerset. It will be cool enough to leave the dogs in the Suburban. You call the Minhs and tell them we are coming. I know they hate last-minute notice of your arrival. I’ll track Storm Washington down and get them to come to McLean.”

When Jack got back to the hotel, Kathy had the bags and the Bouviers ready to be loaded into the Suburban. All Jack had to do was put the bags in, get in the car, and say hello to Shadow and a scrambling Gideon, who was trying his best to get in the front seat with Jack. After a few blocks of being ignored, Gideon curled up beside Shadow and went to sleep. Jack asked Kathy to go through Wilkinsburg and out to Route 30, which went through a number of small towns before reaching the turn north outside of Latrobe at the Kingston Dam crossing of the Loyalhanna Creek and the back road to the hidden cabin Jack’s father built some 25 years ago.

As Kathy drove, Jack allowed himself to reminisce a little bit. His father, Peter Brandon, started life as a highly trained KGB officer who escaped from KGB control when he was sent to Canada and infiltrated into the United States to oversee a network of illegal Russian agents who had long ago established themselves as American citizens. Their mission was to cause havoc in the U.S. if the Soviet Union and the United States got into a shooting war. Peter hated the totalitarian rule of the Communist Party and had vowed to escape at the first opportunity. Temporarily free of KGB control after he established residency in Saint Cloud, Minnesota, Peter took his KGB-provided wife and two young children and stole all the money the KGB had positioned for his use in several American cities. Using this money, Peter Brandon, over the decades, built his stolen cash into a fortune he bequeathed to his only surviving child. Since then, Jack’s prudent management of his wealth increased the fortune that was now nearly a billion dollars. Peter Brandon’s escape from KGB teams sent to track him down was not a complete success. One of these teams led by an old KGB friend found where Peter was living and killed Peter’s wife and baby daughter while Peter and Jack were out grocery shopping.

As they were passing under the Pennsylvania Turnpike at Irwin, Pennsylvania, Jack suddenly said, “Kathy, slow down. I want you to make a left turn in a few miles. There is a town, Jeannette, I want to show you. You debutantes from UNC need to occasionally see what built this nation. When I was going to Pitt, a friend often invited me to visit with him on holidays. He was the other cornerback on Pitt’s team. If the truth be known, he was a little better than me. We made a great team. We knew exactly what each other would do on every offensive play our opponents made. Or, at least, it seemed like that. We had a good team that year. It was the last year I played. Tore up my left knee in the following spring practice. Ray lived in a row house on the wrong side of the tracks and wanted me to see another side of life.

“There’s the turn, at the red light. Slow down. A steep hill with sharp curves is just ahead.”

When the road leveled out, Jack pointed to the right and said, “Lesson number one. See that stadium? That’s where Ray played on the high school team. In a town of 16 or 17 thousand people, eight thousand would be in that little stadium on Friday nights. People here took their football seriously. I grew up in a different football culture where there was a population of several hundred thousand and we were lucky to have five or six hundred at our regular season games.

“After coming here several times, I got interested in the town and Ray’s younger sister and decided to write a paper on the town for the sociology course I was taking. There is Sixth Avenue just ahead to your right. Turn in there and pull over to the curb when I give you the word.”

When Kathy pulled over and parked, Jack said, “It’s been about 15 years since I’ve been here. Bear with me. What I’m going to say won’t be very organized. I want you to know what I learned here and what roles towns like this played in our national development.

“The American part of the Industrial Revolution took place in hundreds, even thousands of small towns like this one. Foundries, coal mines, steel mills, oil wells, natural gas wells, glass manufacturing, tire making, metal fabricating, and tool making were all here, surrounded by farmland, dairies, and all the service industries people need. Churches were only outnumbered by the neighborhood bars. Both had a cadre of regular patrons. It was a hard place to live but a good place. Work was available and everyone worked. Churches and neighborhoods took care of those who couldn’t work. Friday and Saturday nights were playtime. Small merchants provided the consumer needs. Streetcars provided transportation between towns. I’ll bet there were no streetcars in Chapel Hill, especially in the ‘30s and ‘40s.

“Everything was a town or community effort. These small towns were the villages of industrial America. Everyone knew everybody in town. There were no strangers. Kids played outdoors all day long, stopping only for mandatory meals. When America went to war, the towns went to war. Scrap iron piled up in the schoolyards. Kids picked milkweed pods for life jackets. Meat and gas was rationed. Yet everyone had enough to eat. Every man, boy, and some women put on the uniform and went to war in strange lands. Gold stars hung in windows where a son or husband was lost. America was together. Tough boys and men from towns like this from north, south, east, and west threw back the invaders in Europe, Africa, and the islands of the Pacific.

“The immense changes that followed World War II in living style, technology, shopping malls, transportation, and centralization destroyed many of these towns. The old factories closed. There were no jobs to keep the young home. The opportunity to go to college drew off some of the best. If there were few jobs for high school graduates, there were even fewer for college graduates. What you’ll see in this town is the result of a hard struggle ever since the war ended.”

Kathy sat quietly for a moment then said, “I thought I was the scholar in this family. Jack, your talk was very moving. Show me a little more of Jeannette then feed me and walk the dogs. We have a way to go yet. And I want to hear about Ray’s younger sister.”

Jack took the wheel and said, “I’m going to give you the tour. Notice how the town is built in the midst of steep hills. In your part of North Carolina these hills are called mountains. Learning to drive in this town before every car was equipped with an automatic transmission was a real challenge. At least Ray told me that’s where he learned hand and foot coordination.” Jack turned right off Sixth Street onto Clay Avenue and continued in his tour lecture.

“Clay Avenue is the main street in town. Before the malls came in, this was the business center. The family’s complete need could be found along this avenue. There was at least one bar for every block and three pool halls within four or five blocks. Plenty of churches. Four lines of the Pennsylvania Railroad divide the town. Two bridges over the tracks handle traffic from one side to the other. Hard to tell which is the best side of the tracks. To a certain extent the town settled into clusters of ethnic groups. Jeannette was known as the glass city. Even had a bank called the Glass City Bank. For many reasons, industry moved out and has never been replaced. Cheaper labor in the South was probably the biggest motivation. By the way I got an A on my paper. Okay, you can drive now. See if you can get us back to Route 30.”

“You have to be kidding. You know I have a GPS in my head. I can actually visualize map segments.”

After reconnecting with Route 30 in Greensburg, Kathy probed, “Okay, husband, I patiently looked at all the places you showed me from your past in Jeannette, now about Ray’s younger sister. Fess up.”

“Not much to tell. She was very attractive, smart, a very good athlete, and a generally good person.” Jack shot Kathy a sideways glance. “I know, I’m avoiding the basic question. Was she hot?”

“Well, do I have to hear about past loves on our honeymoon?”

“Only if you want to know.”

“Of course I do. Let’s get on with the story.”

“When you’re a junior in college, nearly all females are hot. Now Sheila was especially hot. Ouch, that hurt,” Jack winced as Kathy punched his arm.

“Anymore of that talk and I’ll stop the car.”

“Nothing serious happened. I was Ray’s friend and though his sister and I had a mutual interest in each other, there were many obstacles. The Browns were very religious and saw the world through their religious prism. I could never be accepted. And, too, there was the race issue. I don’t think the Browns were interested in having a white son-in-law. Anyway, Ray got drafted by the Raiders his senior year and moved the whole family to Oakland. Last I heard they were all doing well.”

“You’re still holding back. Come clean!”

“Yes. The main reason I wanted to come through here is to see if a town like this might be a place for us to hide out for a while.”

“I could live in a place like this but not for forever. Strangers stick out in small towns. Our cover story would have to be very good. Our identities and support documentation need to be excellent to stay in a small town. I think either someplace remote or a mid-sized to large city would be safer places to hide out. We need a good vet, medical support, and maybe schools. I’m thinking about stopping the birth control pills. I’m not getting any younger and I do want kids, but not as long as we are involved in so much violence.”

“Kathy, kids would be good. We need to put down some roots somewhere. You know my father was a Russian KGB officer, yet he and his KGB-provided wife had kids while engaged in some very dangerous activity.”

“Yeah! The rest of the story is the KGB found them and killed your mother and infant sister. You want to risk a similar ending? No, thank you.”

“Take the pills a little longer. We can’t have you getting pregnant now. We need a guaranteed safe haven. My instincts tell me not to wait. The time is now. We can look at some remote places later this week. I want to show the sketch we have of the sniper to a couple of old contacts who run shooting camps in Colorado and Montana. No one shoots as good as this sniper without training. I’m nearly certain he wasn’t trained in the Marine Corps or Army. His choice of weapons, the selection of a shooting site, and the escape route don’t fit into the protocol taught by either service. Both Kelly and Sally could use a few days in either of these shooting schools.”

“Okay. Let’s change the subject. We’re almost at the turnoff to the cabin. The burger you fed me at the fast strip along Route 30 at Latrobe is gone. I’m hungry. We need to stop at a grocery store. No more restaurant food. I want to arrive there with the attitude and demeanor of a hungry bride who, after being fed, can focus on several nights of outstanding sex and cuddling. Next week, what’s left of you can plan our trip to shooting camps. Now I want your focus on me and our new puppy who needs to get out of this truck soon. Can you let Gideon out with Shadow without a leash?”

“Yes. Shadow will keep track of him and bring him back. Bouviers are not known to wander away from their pack very much. They’re herding dogs with the DNA hardwired into them. We are their responsibility and they will not go far or leave us very long.”

Jack first met with Dan at a coffee shop the next morning. Dan said, “You showed me again why I enjoyed being your partner working homicide cases. You were spot on in using the Brandon magic logic to find the sniper’s shooting site. Once we had the starting point the rest was just routine police work. I’m sure the artist’s sketch is a very good likeness of the perp. Several people remembered seeing him. All our reports were in the file I left for you at the hotel. Guess you know the captain gave me credit for finding the sniper site and putting together the following sequence of steps to get the sketch. You know Captain Vogel, his replacement, is taking over very soon. He has no use for you and let it be known no one in the Bureau was to have any contact with Shorer’s ‘fair-haired boy.’ He knew somehow that you were with me when I found the sniper site and wondered if you knew more about this crime than you were telling us. Don’t be surprised if he tries to pin something on you.”

“I didn’t think he would be so vindictive. I guess we won’t be in touch for a while.”

“Give me your cell,” Dan said. “I’ll warn you if Vogel tries to get you on some charge. He thinks you must be ‘dirty’ to have so much money.”

Jack got up, gripped Dan’s arm and said, “Your son is set up for treatment in New York City. The plastic surgeon wants to see him now. This is our secret. Tell John if you have to, but no one else. Okay?” The two men shook hands.

Jack left and drove toward Howard’s office. He parked the Suburban in a nearby lot and walked the half block to the office in a three-story 1950s brick building surrounded by look-a-likes, one more drab than the next. Howard’s office was on the top floor. Jack walked up two flights and turned right in the dimly lit hallway to the open door of Howard’s detective agency. Howard saw Jack and motioned for him to come in.

“What brings you to my shop just before lunch? No food but I can offer you a fresh cuppa coffee.”

“Thanks Howie. I’ll take it. I’m leaving town for a while and wanted to check with you before I left. Anything happen I should know about?”

“Two of the guys you had us following turned up dead the day after I gave you their addresses.”

“What do you think happened? A fall out among drug organizations?”

“No, Jack. I don’t think so. The killings were too neat. No emotion. Just two guys shot up close with .22 hollow points. Same gun.”

“Sounds like you heard something from the homicide guys. How did that come about?”

“Augie, one of my guys. I don’t think you knew him, ran one of the dead guys’ plates through his old office and a detective investigating the killings located one of the victim’s cars on the street and the girl on the desk remembered she had just run the same plate for Augie a day ago. The detective calls on Augie and Augie fessed up to running the plate and referred the detective to me. The guy comes right over wants to know why I was interested in one of dead guy’s car.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“I told him the truth. We routinely work missing-person investigations and this plate turned up in the process. The detective looks at me hard and says, ‘Okay that matches up with some files we found in one of the apartments and apparently the two dead Paks were part of a kidnapping team picking young women off the street.’”

“Is that all?”

“No. I asked him if they could roll up the rest of the gang. He said no. The killings were professional. Not much to work with. The forensic unit was finished and it was going down as a gang killing. Motive unknown. How’s that sound to you, Jack?”

“Sounds right. Now the police are engaged, the families should stop talking about police indifference.”

Howie said, “I heard whispers that Captain Vogel said he was going to reinvestigate a number of cases when he takes over.”

“Howie, this is one of those times when I am really happy I’m no longer on the job.”

“You got that right.”

“Thanks for the coffee. If we’re all square with the finances, I’m pulling out. See you next time I’m in town.”

“We’re all square. Easiest money I ever earned in this business. Come back any time and bring your check book.”