Chapter Fifty-One

"Jose? Jose? Did you check the mail in town?"

"Yes sir. Just this from America."

Santiago opened the envelope he had been waiting on. His yearly stipend was several weeks late and his personal bank account was dipping lower than he liked. Any dips in his investment accounts might draw notice from the Mexican authorities always on the lookout or the banks in the states. He rarely touched them. He had come to hate using his joint account with Ximena. Somehow since coming to Mexico, he found a need to make his own way—-except where his father was concerned.

He ripped open the envelope from Peterson's Law firm.

I regret to inform you of the death of our founding partner, JW Peterson. I am his chief clerk and executor; in the event of his death, I was to discharge your arrangement as per previous discussions. Branch Davis Esquire will become chief counsel of Autonberry Assets. If you wish to continue this arrangement, please contact him with the details of your agreement with Peterson. I have destroyed his records upon his final wishes.

He set the letter down and sighed, "Damn, the old man is dead. There goes the nest egg. I have my savings but it won't last forever without more coming in. And I won't be a leech to Ximena."

He thought back to ten years ago.

Wet and dripping on his fine carpet—-he had ended up at the old lawyer's office, wrapped in two ratty blankets. His fine tuxedo shirt was yellow from the water of the bay and he reeked of fish; he had sobered up as soon as he hit the water. He hid in the alcove until the lawyer arrived for work that day. Peterson took one look at him and looked up and down the corridor. He let him in his office.

"The old man went too far. He tried to kill me tonight."

"I heard. The whole city thinks you are dead. An accidental drowning. They are almost dredging the harbor for your worthless body."

"I am charging the old man with attempted murder. Heading there after this. Came by here to make sure my trust fund is secure and fat. Unless- you open up the old man's wallets again. To keep his name out of the papers. You KNOW he wants me dead."

And the discussion continued for an hour,

"Our beautiful Maris, she is the real victim here. The child will always be taken care of."

"I did my duty. I bedded the child. I got an heir on her. I don't hit her or hurt her. I show up twice a year or so as my agreement. She is to raise the scion, the heir apparent, the old man's hope and dream—I have my trust allotment each year."

"Have you ever thought of leaving? Starting over without your father over your shoulder? A free man? I can make that happen. Just leave our Maris alone. Make her a widow. A divorce is too unseemly. Free of your grievous lifestyle and reputation. Your son will grow up without the stain of a disreputable father and you, David, will be free and rich."

Three years after rifling around South America, he ended up back in Mexico, broke and six months until his next check.

Ximena de Leon was a force of nature. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever met. Black, coal-black hair, deep olive skins and red full lips—-

A widow trying to run her late husband's business in a patriarchy. Freight, vineyards, mines, and a distillery,

"Freight? Rail?" He laughed with sarcasm,"I teethed on a manifest."

"I love you Davo, but I will never marry again. I like my independence but I admit I want you in my bed and in my life. I need a business partner that men will respect. Can you agree to such, my amante?"

So the life of a gentleman farmer and businessman began; he assumed it would last a few months and he would move on—-. He painted and wrote several novels while being the figurehead of her company.

A pretty little Señora, a widow with an inheritance and a ranch needing to be run—-and a man in her bed. She had the financial acumen but needed a man's face for the men to respect. A weekly poker game and horse races. Earning pocket money.

David translated into Santiago in Spanish. A new form of himself. And Santiago fell deeply in love for the first time.

Mexico made him content.

Until the letter.

"Ximena? I have an idea. How would you like to go to San Francisco? For Día de Reyes, January 6th."

She narrowed her eyes on him as she dressed for the day., "You have never wanted to go home before. I can barely get you to the border to sign contracts."

"It's time to be a man. I need to come clean and end the hold my father has on my soul. Then, my love, we shall marry. I will sign a prenuptial of course. I unfortunately know all about them. When I am free, I shall ask for your hand in marriage."

"If I say, no?"

"Then I shall convince you," and he began kissing her on the neck. She moaned and allowed him to move her to their large bed.

"Convince me."

"I will."

—-&—

Branch sat at Peterson's desk and lit one of his best cigars. The clerk was organizing all the Autonberry asset accounts and litigation for him to review.

"Never did I dream of landing one of the biggest clients in America. The zeros behind the digits in those accounts. Fool Peterson never took advantage of the bird he had in hand. Didn't even own a clear title to his own home."

He perused the accounts. All seemed to be in meticulous order.

"Hmm, he was given the freedom to sign checks alone. Need to pursue that with old JD next time we talk. He didn't give me that."

"James David! Where the hell are you?"

He opened his own briefcase and brought out his correspondence and billing.

He reconciled his own expenditures before he placed the sheet into the fireplace.

Chinese Fireworks, cart, livery, misc materials ✔️

Chink 50.00 ✔️

Hired man zero ✔️

Palace Hotel and Entertainment 100 ✔️

"Retainer to Pinkertons-bank draft not debited—oversight or holiday delay?"

"Bonus. Headmaster is not on my watch and the two dead men don't talk. Free of charge thanks to some old night watchman and Springer."

He crumbled his paper and threw it into the fire,"One hundred and fifty dollar investment out of my retainer for a lifetime of security."

He poured himself one of Peterson's finest bourbons and watched the fire burn up his involvement in this case.

"Sir, your appointment is here. The Headmaster of PineCrest."

"Send him in."