The Family Business

“No, this way,” LC ordered, opening the door next to the one I was standing at.

I stepped back, a little puzzled, but followed my future father-in-law’s orders. He led me up a flight of steps, stopping in front of one of several apartments above the restaurant. He knocked on the door, then turned to me.

“You’re gonna need more money than you make to support my daughter. And I need a good lawyer, someone who’s smart, hungry, and most of all, loyal. So, Harris, my man, I’m offering you a job. Do you want to be my exclusive lawyer?”

Even if I had known what to think or what to say, he didn’t give me time. He pounded on the door again, until it finally opened a crack. I saw half a man’s face eyeballing us. Before I knew it, LC raised his foot and kicked open the door, busting the man upside the head.

“LC, please, man, I just need a little more time!” The man held out his hand as if it might keep LC at bay. With his other hand, he covered the side of his face, now bloody from the door strike.

I hadn’t a clue what the hell was going on. It was all going down so fast.

I heard three loud pops. One, two, and then a third hole appeared in the man’s chest and stomach. As blood began to seep out of the wounds, I looked over at LC, who was tucking a silenced pistol into his coat pocket.

“He wasn’t hungry like you, Harris. He was a slacker—didn’t take care of his business—and he talked too much. Namely, about me and my business. But you ...”

I felt LC’s hand on my shoulder, only I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the man who was taking his last breath on the floor.

“You are still hungry, aren’t you? And as my lawyer, you’re honor bound to keep your mouth shut, right, Harris?”

I nodded, feeling numb.

“Good. Then here’s the first order of business, counselor.” LC reached into his jacket, and my heart started pounding. Was he reaching for that gun again? I had no idea if I would be joining the man down on the floor. “Here, take this.”

I looked down to see LC handing me a piece of paper. Once it was in my shaking hand, I realized it was a check. I read the figure, and my knees were so weak, I almost fell to the floor next to the dead man. “This is a check for a million dollars.”

“That’s your retainer. You’re now my lawyer, and you work exclusively for me and Duncan Motors. I want you to give Brask and Williams your walking papers in the morning.... Unless you have a problem working for me?”

“Mr. Duncan ... I ... I can’t-”

“Sure you can,” he stated without a hint of doubt. “Let me help you out here, son.” He put his arm around my shoulder and led me away from the pool of blood that was forming near our feet. “You have three choices. You can work for me, you can pretend this never happened and go about your business, or you can go to the cops and talk to them. Your first choice is going to make you rich beyond your wildest dreams. The second choice will probably mean you’ll be alive, but would also make you an accessory to murder—something to think about just in case you ever consider changing your mind. And the third, well, if you decide to go to the cops, you might as well lie down with the guy down there, because you’re as dead as he is. If I don’t kill you, then I promise you that my sons will.”

I stood there silently, taking in LC’s words and trying to breathe. A sudden wave of nausea hit me, and I didn’t know if I was going to throw up or pass out. One thing I did know was that of the three choices LC had given me, only one guaranteed that I would live.

“So, Harris, future son-in-law, are you my lawyer or not?”

I couldn’t speak. My words were somewhere frozen between my throat and the tip of my tongue, so I relayed my answer the best way I could. I folded the check and tucked it into my pocket.

Carl Weber with Eric Pete's books