Scott Winslow Legal Mysteries

Chapter 2-2

“Good prediction,” he said, kissing her again, pulling her close against him, and entirely forgetting about the worries of the day.

* * *

Roland Cook"s estate in the Lake Sherwood area of Westlake Village featured lake views from most of the rooms within the nine thousand square foot Tuscan-style structure. Walls of windows opened to allow the expansive outdoor patios and fountains that were all part of the flow from the house down to the lakefront.

The doorbell rang and Cook opened the front door promptly. “Come in, Sean. Let"s have coffee outside.”

The forty-six-year-old visitor with curly black hair was built like a linebacker; thick arms bulged from his short-sleeved shirt and wide shoulders filled the door. Sean Garner was a cop in a previous life who had left the force and gained success in corporate security by the time he was in his mid-thirties. A dozen years later he found himself at the top of the security pyramid for one of the fastest growing pharma companies in the world. He had an extensive security department and reported to the Vice President for Operations, except when there was a special project that Cook decided required Sean"s personal attention.

“Give Mr. Garner a cup of coffee will you, Lydia?”

“Yes, sir,” a woman said. She stopped cleaning the counters and poured coffee for Garner.

“Thank you, ma"am,” Garner said, taking the mug.

“Let"s go out back,” Cook said and walked towards the patio.

As they sat down on at one of the outdoor tables that overlooked the Olympic-sized pool, Garner looked out at the beautiful blue waters of the lake that touched the other end of the yard fifty feet away. There was a gentle lapping of water onto the land. The rear yard contained through gardens, trees, gazebos and distant seating areas and stretched for an acre until it reached the shore of the lake. “This is so gorgeous,” Garner offered.

“It is that,” Cook replied. He looked at Garner and said, “Your message said that you learned something, is that right?”

“Yes, sir. The three of them went to see an employment lawyer. A guy named Scott Winslow.”

“Art Underwood participated?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I"m disappointed to hear that. He shook his head. “We can"t have that happening, Sean. We are within weeks of this important new d**g getting FDA approval to help people stricken with cancer. Now we must deal with three disloyal executives trying to stop us from helping those people in desperate need.” He reflected a moment and then said, “This d**g imperative to people in need, Sean.” He paused and then added, “Initially, it will also mean about a million dollars in stock value added to your personal portfolio. And that is just the beginning.”

“Yes, sir,” Garner replied, his expression thoughtful. “Do you plan to fire them?”

“Not just yet, although their disloyalty certainly warrants it.”

“What would you like me to do, sir?”

“I want you to convince them that this is not the way to proceed. They need to stay loyal to the company and its goals.”

“Yes, sir.” Garner looked towards the lake and adjacent hillsides populated with gorgeous homes like the one he was visiting. “It sure is beautiful here, sir.”

“It is, Sean. And one day, you will be a neighbor if you choose.”

“I would like that.”

“It"s not far-fetched, Sean. Your stock value is going through the roof and there could be other significant incentives if you do well with what we are discussing today.” He gave Garner an insider"s grin and then added, “Thank you for coming by this morning, Sean.”

“Yes, sir.” Garner rose and walked into the house to head for the front door.

“One more thing,” Cook called out.

Garner turned back and looked at him. “Yes, sir.”

“It is critical that nothing slows this project, Sean. You understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Cook furrowed his brow and said, “If the convincing requires some expenditures, they are authorized. I leave it to your discretion. I want you to use outside resources for this and not security department employees. I don"t want this coming back to the Company.”

Garner nodded, and added on more, “Yes, sir, I understand, and I will handle it.” As he walked to the front door of the magnificent property, Garner looked around. He really could live in a place like this if his stock value continued to soar. He was confident that he could take care of this problem, as he had taken care of so many others in the past. He was paid well to make sure that big problems disappeared one way or another.

He was already contemplating ways to convince the three members of the management team who had strayed that they needed to return to Company priorities before the situation became dire. Hopefully, it could be done with reason, along with the injection of a little fear about what choosing the wrong path would mean for the Company and for each of them.

* * *

Justin walked into Francine"s Café, a hole in the wall restaurant with a good name among the local workforce in downtown Los Angeles. He looked around until he saw Marty Cardenas and Art Underwood sitting at a table across the bustling room. He walked over and pulled out one of the two remaining chairs. “Good morning, guys. I trust everyone has been sleeping well?” he said with a sideways grin.

“Nope,” Art replied. Not well at all.”

“Likewise,” Marty said, shaking his head. “This really sucks.”

A woman in a red apron ran up to the table carrying a pot of coffee. “You want coffee?” she asked Justin, seeing that the cups in front of Marty and Art were still full.

“I do, thanks.”

She poured and then asked, “What do you want for breakfast, gents?”

“Wheat toast for me,” Art said.

“A bagel with everything you can find in the kitchen,” Justin asked.

“What about you, hon?” she asked Marty.

“I"ll have your breakfast burrito.” She gave a nod and disappeared from the table.

“So, what are we doing?” Marty asked, keeping it vague.

“Like I said yesterday, I"m out,” Art replied. “In five years, I want to retire from this job.”

Justin nodded. “I"m in. How about you, Marty?”

“Yeah. Abby is going along with it, so I"m in as well.” He took a deep breath and said, “How about you and I meet tonight to compose the letter to Cook that Scott Winslow talked about. We"ll keep Art away from it all.”

“That"s fine.”

“My place at 8:00?” Marty offered.

“I"ll be there.”

“Okay. I"ll call Scott"s office and tell him that you and I are in.”

The server in the red apron appeared with a tray and placed food in front of them. They thanked her and found themselves staring at the food, stomachs churning and not welcoming what awaited. They looked at each other, no one touching the food, and then Marty said, “I hope we can eat at some point while this case is pending. It could be a long year and a half.” Art and Justin nodded, but remained silent.

“Are we sure about this, Justin?” Marty asked as the weight of what lay ahead hit him.

Justin stared at his food without speaking and then said, “I think so.” The realization seemed to strike both of them simultaneously; they were on the way to being perceived as disloyal by many and a social pariah to the others who just couldn"t risk being associated with them. This was not going to be a good experience.

Art looked at the expressions on their faces and offered, “Looking at you guys I feel like I just joined a funeral in progress. Cheer up, it"s not too late to pull back from all of this. You haven"t committed to go down this road yet.” No one responded. There was a heavy silence at the table as Art studied their somber expressions, and then added, “Or maybe you have.”