The Deposit Slip

EPILOGUE




Jessie was humming again in the front office space. It used to bother him when he was trying to concentrate. It didn’t bother him now.

The day they’d left Ashley, Jared had taken Jessie to lunch a final time at Orsi and Greens. It was there that he’d told her he was sorry. She’d accepted his apology, and the hug that followed lingered for long seconds that left Jared a pleasant uncertainty as to where they went from there. In the weeks since, Jared had pondered more and more how long he wanted to continue with the constraint of Jessie being an employee.

With the arrival of Erin’s check for his fees and costs, he’d written his own series of checks—all the overdue bills, at home and the office; Richard Towers for his work, plus a bonus; and a twenty percent referral fee to Mort Goering. And of course, there was a significant bonus to Jessie.

Erin had paid Phil Olney’s share, and for Cory’s return to Europe, as promised. Then, to his surprise, Erin had announced she’d be joining her. A good thing, Jared thought. And hopefully the two would be staying in better hostels this time around.

Finally, yesterday, Jared wrote his last check from the fees. This one was to Clay. It was enough to repay the ten thousand dollar loan—plus a ten percent referral fee.

Jessie had been livid when he’d handed her the check.

“Just mail it,” Jared insisted.

The fees from Erin’s case were sizable, but after all of Jared’s accumulated bills, referral fees, and bonuses, it was like a river trying to cross a desert. He still had enough to cushion the practice for the time required to rebuild it—months or more. But this was certainly no “breakthrough case.”

That term sounded hollow now anyway. Not that he wasn’t interested. But for the first time in a long time—perhaps ever—the practice didn’t seem driven by that engine.

Each day Jared was aware of another task he must someday complete: keeping his promise to Marcus. He had no idea how he could communicate to Marcus’s family that the Paisley attorney’s last act was so different than what the press reported about him. Perhaps he would have to wait until Marcus’s children were much older; maybe it could only be done under a cloak of anonymity. Either way, it was a responsibility Jared would not forget.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come.”

Jessie entered, a pleading in her hand. “I . . .”

She got no further before the phone rang. Jessie reached for the phone on Jared’s desk and answered it.

After a few seconds of listening, Jessie said, “May I ask what this is in regard to?”

She put her hand over the mouthpiece.

“It’s Clay.”

“Did he get the check yet?”

Jessie looked sheepish. “I haven’t been able to bring myself to mail it yet.”

“So what’s he want?”

Her expression was flat. “He says he’s got another case he thought you might be interested in.”

Jared reached out his hand to take the call.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS




I am grateful to Tim and Heather Peterson for their encouragement that enabled me to “cross the Rubicon” and fulfill my dream of becoming a writer.

I am also very thankful to my wife, Catherine, for her multiple readings of the book and uncompromising editing; to my son, Ian, for cheering me on and whose reactions, for a brief moment, made an aging father feel “cool” again; and to my daughter, Libby, for patiently interrupting her history studies to listen to her father’s chapters with cheerfulness and love.

I also wish to acknowledge many others who read and critiqued this first effort: my brother Scott Johnson; fellow conspirator Michael Schwartz; and particularly Sue Hoffman—whose encouragement helped make this book a reality. Thanks as well to Judy Wenderoth for the critical eye she applied to the recounting of banking practices.

And finally, thanks to my editor, David Long, for taking a chance with this new author, and for his repeated counsel that just one more rewrite and I’d finally have it.





Todd M. Johnson has practiced as an attorney for over thirty years, specializing as a trial lawyer. A graduate of Princeton University and the University of Minnesota Law School, he also taught for two years as adjunct professor of International Law and served as a US diplomat in Hong Kong. He lives outside Minneapolis, Minnesota, with his wife, his son, Ian, and his daughter, Libby. This is his debut novel.

Visit his website at www.authortoddmjohnson.com.