“You got any more bullets in that thing?”

“Nope. Emptied the clip.”

Lane pulled some fancy moves with the gun and produced some kind of slide-thingy that, yup, appeared to be empty. Not that Jeff would know what any of it was.

“So?” Lane prompted.

“I’ve decided to accept your little job offer, John Wayne.”

As his old college roommate said the magic words, Lane’s sense of relief was so great, he closed his eyes and sagged. “Thank you, sweet Jesus—”

“And I found you two point five million dollars—”

Lane pulled a snatch and grab on his old friend, dragging Jeff in for a hard embrace. Then he shoved the guy back. “I knew if I waited long enough, there had to be some good news coming. I knew it.”

“Well, don’t get too excited.” Jeff stepped back. “There are conditions.”

“Name them. Whatever they are.”

“Number one, I’ve fixed the news leak.”

Lane blinked. “What?”

“Tomorrow morning you’ll be reading in the paper that what looked like improperly diverted funds were actually part of a diversification project sanctioned by the chief executive officer, William Baldwine. The projects have failed, but poor business decisions are not illegal in a privately held corporation.”

Lane ran the words back and forth in his head a couple of times just to make sure he had them right. “How are you managing that?”

Jeff checked his watch. “If you really want to know, get me a car at five o’clock. And not your kind of car—a nothing special. I’ll show you.”

“Deal. But yeah, wow.”

“And I’ve decided I want to invest in your little bourbon company.” The guy shrugged. “If there’s a federal investigation, with all that negative press? It’s going to slow sales in this moralistic, judge-everyone-and-everything Facebook and Twitter era. And what I need, if I’m going to turn the organization around, is time. Income from operations gives me time. An investigation takes away my time. And you’re right. Your family are the only shareholders. If the company is in debt, goes into bankruptcy, fails? Your father fucked you all, no one else.”

“I’m so glad you’re seeing things my way. But what about the two and a half million for the board members?”

Jeff put his hand in his pocket and held out a small, folded check. “Here it is.”

Lane took the thing and opened it up. Looked at his friend. “This is your account.”

“I told you, I’m investing in your business. Those are live funds, and I made it out directly to you so you can keep this incentive thing off the corporate books for now. Pay them privately.”

“I don’t know how to thank you for this.”

“Wait for it. That part’s coming. I’ve finished my analysis and I’ve accounted for all the money—and the total diverted, including that loan from Prospect Trust to your personal household account, is one hundred seventy-three million, eight hundred and seventy-nine thousand, five hundred and eleven dollars. And eighty-two cents. The eighty-two cents is the real kicker, of course.”

Shit. And that was in addition to the hundred million missing from his mother’s trust.

The magnitude of it all was so great, Lane’s body felt the impact even though the losses were a mental concept. But at least the final bottom had been found. “I was hoping … well, it is what it is.”

“I am prepared to come on board on an interim basis and sort everything out. I’m going to want to get rid of your senior management, all of them—”

“I read through their employment contracts last night. There’s a gag clause in every one of them. So we can fire them for not catching the improper diversion of funds, which is cause, and even if the news reports say something else is going on, there’s nothing they can say otherwise. Not unless they want some back-breaking penalties, and they won’t. Those bastards will be looking for jobs, and no one hires snitches.”

“They could go off the record.”

“I’d find that out. I promise you.”

Jeff nodded briefly. “Fair enough. My goal is to keep the trains running on time, keep the money coming in, steady the ship. ’Cuz right now, you might as well be in a hostile takeover for what morale has got to be like. And we don’t have the wiggle room for delays in shipments, account collections, product order processing. The employees are going to need positive motivation.”

“Amen to that.”

Lane turned away and started walking through the woods to the house.

“Where are you going?” Jeff called out.

“Back to my car.” Lane just kept going, some paranoia that Jeff would change his mind making him antsy. “You and I are going down to headquarters right now—”

“And in return, I want an annual salary of two point five million dollars—and one percent of the entire company.”

The words were spoken like they were bombs being dropped, but Lane just swept the air with his hand as he continued to march out of the woods.

“Done,” he said over his shoulder.

Jeff grabbed ahold of Lane’s arm and spun him back around. “Did you hear what I said? One percent of the company.”

“Did you hear what I said? Done.”

Jeff shook his head and pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. “Lane. Your company, even in its dire straits, is probably worth three to four billion dollars if it were up for acquisition. I’m asking for between thirty and forty million here, depending on valuation. For an initial investment of two point five.”

“Jeff.” He echoed that strident tone. “Your money’s all I’ve got in this cesspool of debt and I don’t know how to run a company. You want one percent to be interim CEO? Fine. Dandy. Have fucking at it.”

When Lane started walking again, Jeff fell in step. “You know, if I’d had any idea you were going to be such a pushover, I’d have asked for three percent.”

“And I’d have paid you five.”

“Are we doing a scene from Pretty Woman?”

“I don’t want to think like that, if you don’t mind. Hostile work environment. You could sue me. Oh, and there’s one more thing on our side.” They stepped out of the tree line and onto the manicured grass. “I’m having the board appoint me as chairman. That way it’ll be easier for the both of us to get the work done.”