Grady's Odyssey

By Chris Hargrove

Grady Williams was on top of the world. Raised by middle class parents in a small town in Tennessee, he became a successful Wall Street investment banker. His picture was common, not only on the front page of the business section of the New York Times, but also on its society page. He had it all! A beautiful and talented girlfriend, a friend that was like a brother to him, and more money than he could spend in two lifetimes.

When a series of tragic events occur, almost simultaneously, his life is turned upside down. Grief, loneliness, and loss cause him to lose interest in all the things that had once seemed so important to him. In search of himself, he abandons New York, money, and people he thought were his friends. The discovery of an old boat, with a suspicious past, and its restoration become his new obsession. The energy that he had once put into his business career he channels into his new love of the sea and his boat. He becomes determined to sail his little boat to whatever destinations he can dream.

Little did he know that his slow and ugly boat, Slugly, would take him on an odyssey containing a drug trafficker, a shady Caribbean real estate deal and, ultimately, a string of murders. Gradys knowledge of high finance, the love of the deal and his interest in a mysterious woman he meets in the Bahamas casts him into a game where winning and losing is not measured by profit and loss, but in life and death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jul 29, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491739396

Chris Hargrove

Chris Hargrove is the Chairman of the Board and CEO of Professional Bank Services, Inc. His professional career is focused on bank mergers and acquisitions. Gradys Odyssey is his first literary work. He combines his knowledge of the financial industry and his love of the sea in his debut novel. Chris resides in Kentucky and Florida with his wife Deonna, their five children and their grandson, Grady.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

You and everyone else will think you know this story since it was a constant headline for over a year. It seemed like the tabloids never tired of sensationalizing the events. Unfortunately, my fifteen minutes of fame drew on and on. Court TV had the highest viewing audience in the Bahamas for more than a year. The day I testified, the network had higher ratings than American Idol for that week’s episode in the United States.

As all things go in the public eye, it eventually dies down, and the people that were the center of the universe for a while are allowed to go back to a world of wonderful anonymity. I hope to fill in many of the missing pieces to the story that everyone thinks they know and a lot of events that preceded it. I was the only person that was there for almost all of the major events of this tale. Who better than I to fill in the gaps before I get too old and senile or before too many brain cells die from the rum that seems to taste better every day.

An odyssey is defined as a long wandering or voyage usually marked by many changes of fortune. It is also defined as an intellectual or spiritual wandering or quest. I think an odyssey best defines my life so far.

My name is Grady James Williams, and I go by Grady. I do not know where the Grady came from, but when I ask my mom she just shrugs and tells me to ask my dad. All I get from him is a shrug. I hope that I was not named after a character from my dad’s favorite comedy of the time. Grady was Fred Sanford’s stupid sidekick on Sanford and Son from the 70’s.

I want to make something clear up front. If you are thinking you are going to read an adventure about some macho righteous hero that is going to save the day with bullet and stab wounds all over his body while he carries away the heroine to safety, then just read the tabloid accounts or see the movie that is coming out next year and be happy. I have never considered myself a hero, and Lord knows I am no saint. I have done some people wrong in my day, but in the end, I think most of them deserved it.

One thing I have never done is cheat people out of money or taken advantage of weak or ignorant people. People that take advantage of others by using their money, power or information send me through the roof. Sure, I have fleeced a lot of people that deserved it along the way, and my favorite targets are wealthy people that are trying to take advantage of less fortunate people or those that do not have the financial means to fight back. I don’t know why. Maybe it was my more humble beginning, but good God I love to stick it to them.

Like I said before, I am not anything to brag about. I made a lot of money before I left my investment firm in New York, but considering it was New York, that is not saying a lot. Hell, you could not swing a cat in lower Manhattan without hitting three people with an eight figure net worth. I do believe I am very lucky and have stumbled onto a lot of people that have helped me out along the way.

My early life was right out of a sitcom from the sixties with two parents (still married to this day) and a younger brother. I like to think of my younger brother, Van, as Beaver and myself as Wally. My dad owned a car repair garage. My mom stayed home and took care of my brother and me. We lived in a small town about forty miles from Nashville, Tennessee, and like all small town boys in the seventies, all I did was play sports and ride my bike. As I got older, numerous motorcycles replaced the bicycle. We played football in the fall, baseball in the summer, and basketball until it became too cold to play outside.

My mom was our moral compass, and she kept Van and me on the straight and narrow. She sang in the choir at church and was a stickler on attending every Sunday. While Dad was not at church every time the doors were open, he was a great role model when it came to being involved in our lives. He was a sports fanatic. I cannot recall him ever missing a sporting event in which my brother and I participated. As a matter of fact, I think he even came to most of our practices.

I worked in my dad’s garage during the brief periods between sport seasons. We sold tires, performed maintenance, and could do most minor and major repairs. I was kind of a gear head and was always fixing some kind of motorcycle, go-cart or later helping a classmate soup up his car. I liked anything that had a motor, and before computers were placed in cars and fuel injection became standard equipment, there was not a lot that I could not get to fire up. Driving and owning a car is one of the things that I missed when I moved to New York. Even later when I could afford the parking space and the taxes, it was not much fun to spend an hour sitting in traffic just to go across town.

One very important part of my life that developed at an early time was my love for water. I was interested in everything about being in it, around it, on it or under it. I would read the TV Guide from cover to cover looking for episodes of Jacques Cousteau or Sea Hunt that might be on that week. I read every book in our school and public libraries about scuba diving or life on the sea. The man that filled our vending machines at the garage was a Navy diver in the early sixties. I was always hanging out at the garage when he would come by to service the machines. Looking back, I am sure I drove him crazy with all my questions about diving, sharks, blowing things up and the different types of scuba equipment. When he passed away from cancer a few years later, he left all his gear to me. The equipment would be considered dangerous antiques now, but I had them refurbished and still use them on occasional shallow dives.

For my fourteenth birthday, my parents agreed to make the trek to Nashville every Thursday night for eight straight weeks so I could get my diving certification. The instructor told my parents after the first night that I had already memorized the materials and had mastered all the water skills. He apologized that they would have to make the next seven trips.

I was the first person in my extended gene pool to attend and graduate from college. I think I was one of the few that realized that this was probably the best time of my life, and I was not going to let a thing like classes and studying stop me from having fun. I relished every second I was there, and I did pretty well and made friends with a few professors. When I graduated, the country was in a recession, and there were no jobs for anyone with a business degree. My professors offered me a graduate assistantship where I basically did nothing but hang out with them and drink coffee, so I stayed for two more years. What the hell, let the good times roll.

I guess I should talk about relationships during this period of time. There was only one that lasted for any significant period, and I can honestly say it was the first time I had fallen head over heels in love. I met Deena Emerson at a frat mixer my senior year. She was not the type that would normally go to a fraternity party, but she had just split up with her boyfriend. Her roommate took her along to be her wingman. I am not sure what girls call a wingman, but the job is basically the same. Her friend definitely needed one that night.

No one missed Deena the minute she walked in the door. The combination of a girl that we had not seen before, and she was drop dead pretty, brought the hound dogs sniffing around. She was five foot four and had brown hair with lots of auburn highlights that made her hair shine. This looked great with her dark complexion. Her legs seemed to go on forever, and the tight jeans and t-shirt let me know that she had a great body. She had a nice smile and a small upturned nose. She later told me that her dad teased her that if she was ever caught out in the rain she would drown. The first time I commented about her dark brown eyes she said, They are so brown because I am full of shit. Needless to say, she was a hot girl, and I could not get within ten feet of her.

The mixer that night was a PGA party where pure grain alcohol is mixed with whatever anyone throws into the pot. Every male that entered the door had to bring a liter of PGA and a can of fruit juice. Quality of the alcohol and juice did not matter. We used an old milk dispenser, like you see in a school cafeteria, to dispense the booze that was stirred with an old boat paddle. When you walked in, the liquor and juice would be thrown in with a pitcher of beer. The theory of the beer was to dilute the booze and make it less sweet. We had these parties about once a month because everyone believed that girls did not like beer and preferred the fruity mystery drink. I was not a fan of these parties because the combination of the high alcohol cocktails and red fruit juice made the restrooms look like a murder scene by the end of the night. If you know what I mean.

This night was no different, but it worked out great for me. If Deena’s friend had not rushed out the back door and almost spewed punch on me, we probably never would have met. The vomiting repelled my fraternity brothers that were trying to get Deena’s attention for a moment. That is when I made my move and stepped in to help. I ran and got a wet washcloth and a towel. I also stole a frat brother’s toothbrush and mouthwash. I figured the mouthwash had alcohol and would kill the germs from the toothbrush. Needless to say, I would not put anything in my mouth from those nasty frat house dwellers.

I helped Deena walk her friend home and put her to bed. We sat on the steps of her apartment for almost two hours telling each other our stories.

From your accent I am guessing you are not from these here parts.

She laughed, No, I am from the Washington/Baltimore area, but my mother was born here. My grandparents still live here and that is why I decided to come here for school. I would come and visit for most summers. I could not help it, I fell in love with Tennessee.

I have not seen you at any parties around campus, so I am guessing you are not in a sorority, and you have a boyfriend that is not in a fraternity.

My, you are one observant guy, Grady. Yes, I had a boyfriend up until a couple days ago. I met him one summer when I was in Tennessee visiting my grandparents. It is your classic story of football player gets caught cheating with a cheerleader after a big win. Can you believe it? Anyway, we are done, and I am thinking about going back home and transferring to the University of Maryland after Christmas break.

I think you should reconsider.

Why?

I gave her a grin and lied. I am a student ambassador, and it is my job to recruit for our fine institution of higher learning. I believe it is my personal obligation to use the precious few weeks between now and Christmas to convince you to stay.

She agreed, and our first date was brunch the next day. We hit it off great. She stayed in Tennessee, and I could not have been happier.

She graduated from undergraduate school with a degree in social work the same year that I finished my master’s degree in finance. I got a job working in the Chief Financial Officer’s department at the largest bank in Nashville, and she went to work helping children from the poor areas of town stay caught up in their schoolwork. We officially moved in together and set up housekeeping downtown in a converted warehouse.

CHAPTER 2

Without going into a lot of detail, I moved up the ranks at the bank with lightning speed. I wish I could say that I was some kind of financial genius, and my unbelievable talents were recognized and rewarded, but that was not the case. The bank was going through a period of rapid growth because of changes in state and federal laws that allowed banks to expand and enter new businesses. We were announcing acquisitions of companies on a monthly basis, and we were working long and stressful hours. Since I was new, I just thought that was normal. The people that were higher up the totem pole, and had been there longer, were not accustomed to working at that level. Within the first nine months I was there, everyone above me quit. I got promoted on, what seemed like, a monthly basis. Now, I did not get a lot of financial reward with all these promotions because I worked for a bank, but I did get a nicer and bigger office every time someone left. Because I had become the CFO’s go to guy and was involved in every major decision at the company, I got to meet George and my life changed forever.

There is no way I can describe George Freeman in a couple of pages. Hell, I could easily write an entire book about the ten years that I knew him and the things we did together. George’s firm, Jacob, Daniel and Freeman, was one of the top five investment banking firms that represented financial companies in the United States. They helped companies raise money or capital, acquire other companies, or assist in the sale of companies. He was truly bigger than life, and there is not a day that goes by I do not think about him and miss him.

George was originally from Texas and was one of the few people from south of the Mason Dixon that moved to New York and did not try to hide his southern accent. Even though he had lived in New York for more than two decades, he still sounded like he had arrived from West Texas the day before. He claimed his Texas accent was an asset, while my Tennessee accent was a liability. I was told that my accent should be hidden at all times when I was in the North. He said he sounded like a southern aristocrat, and I sounded like white trash.

While I was at the bank, I worked with George on a number of our bigger acquisitions and a few debt offerings we sold to European investors. For some reason, he liked me from the start and always asked my boss to let me be their contact with the bank. I really liked him, but I could not stand the Ivy League assholes that worked for him. For some crazy reason, I let my disdain for them show, and my boss did not like it. I could tell that George loved it. I would go to New York at least once a month to work on different projects with George’s firm. George would always make a point to take me out on the town. Looking back on it now, I figured out what this was all about. Every time I would go to the city, he would take me out to dinner and have some other high level professional join us. This is the first time he told me to lose the accent. One night we would go out with one of the lawyers from the big firms, and the next night, I would meet with one of his partners. In retrospect, it was one long interview that went on for months and months. I think he knew (way before I did) that my company was going to sell out.

I’ve got to admit, it hit me out of the blue. Yeah, I have been blindsided by women a few times in my life, but I did not see the bank I worked for selling to a larger company coming at all. I should have seen the signs. It is like looking at a racing form after the race is over. It is easy to see why the horse won (as with most of my sayings like this, I have to credit George).

I walked into my office one Friday morning and was told there would be a mandatory meeting in one hour. The message also said there were no excuses not to attend. I had seen George in the President’s office the day before and wondered why I had not heard from him since we usually went to the honky tonk bars on lower Broadway when he was in Nashville.

The only thing I could come up with was that we were announcing a major acquisition, but why had I not heard about it before today? When I walked into the meeting, I knew immediately what was going on. I had seen the look too many times on the faces of the people that worked for the companies we had acquired. All I could think about was, a company that is being acquired does not need a head of acquisitions. I knew my days were numbered, and I had never really thought about what it would be like to be unemployed.

I had been around this enough to know that people that got pissed off in these situations got pissed on (another Georgeism) so I kept my cool and marched into the head of Human Resources Office to see what they had in mind for me. I expected the best-case scenario would be a six-month severance package and a pat on the back about losing the vesting on my remaining stock options. I was shocked when I walked in and the President and Chief Financial Officer were both in the conference room waiting for me. They told me what I already knew. I was going to be out of a job as soon as the acquisition closed, and they would understand if I quit or used the time leading up to the closing to look for another job; however, they had another proposal for me to consider.

George Freeman recommended to the President that I head up the integration team that would handle the merger of the two organizations. I would still be out of a job in six to nine months, but in return, they would give me a contract for three years and all my stock options would vest immediately. I kept a straight face and asked, Let me get this straight. I agree to stay on for nine months and you will pay me a salary for three years and basically give me a quarter of a million dollar bonus? They both nodded their heads, and I looked down to make sure I had not wet my pants. I had been around enough to know to ask, What’s the catch?

They told me the contract would have a stipulation that I could not compete with the acquiring bank for three years in the state of Tennessee, and I would be spending a couple of weeks a month in New York. I would have an apartment in Manhattan, and if I was there for more than a week at a time, they would fly my girlfriend, or anyone else I wanted, up to see me. Even though this seemed like an amazing offer, I did remember that the two guys in front of me were splitting close to one hundred and fifty million dollars when the merger closed. With that in mind, I asked for a twenty-five percent raise to go into effect immediately. They agreed, and I think I was the only guy that walked out of that conference room with a smile on his face that day.

George was waiting outside when I walked out. One look at me and he knew I was fine with what went on inside with my soon to be former bosses. He patted me on the back and asked, What would you and your little gal who is saving the world think about going out tonight to celebrate? I have to tell you up front that Deena could not stand George, and I did not find out until later that George did not like Deena. George was such a showman that only he knew his true feelings. He would have been a great poker player, and when I think about it, it is what he did his whole life.

We had dinner at The Palm that night, and I must admit that I had a great time. Since we had a driver, I got very drunk. Deena asked George how he had become so successful, and I knew where this was going because I had heard the story countless times. I turned my attention to the menu and to see if I recognized anyone in the bar.

George leaned back in his chair and puffed out his chest. I was raised in West Texas. My father worked in the oil fields as a drill operator and Mom taught school. After college, I worked in the oil business during the boom times of the late seventies and early eighties raising money for oil speculators. During this time, a lot of contacts were made with very rich people that became my backers in the inevitable oil bust of the late eighties. Nowadays you would call it a bubble bursting. Same thing just different terminology. The oil bust of the late eighties was the most significant financial crisis since the Great Depression. Oil producing states were growing at unbelievable levels because of high oil prices, and so did speculation in real estate and land development. When oil prices plummeted, the house of cards fell and banks were stuck with billions of dollars of depressed real estate.

Deena asked, Very similar to the Great Depression years ago?

Not really, but very similar to the real estate crisis that I think is coming, but that is a story for another day. A record number of banks failed back then, and the government had to liquidate billions of dollars of foreclosed properties at nickels on the dollar. Many experts at the time predicted that there was such a glut in developed real estate in Texas that there would not be another home or apartment built in the state for thirty years. Some other real smart people, including me, did not believe this and raised millions of dollars in a vulture fund and started buying the assets from the government after they closed the failed banks.

Deena looked puzzled, What is a vulture fund?

Sorry darlin, I forgot you are not in the business. A vulture fund is when a group of really smart people put up money to buy assets at big discounts when everyone else is either stupid or afraid. Now, where was I? Oh yeah. Oil prices rebounded, the market improved, and we sold off the assets in an orderly fashion. My financial backers and I made millions. During this time, we also got involved in buying banks that were in trouble or had failed. Once again, we sold these companies when the market improved and our fortunes grew even more. While I made a lot of money personally, most of the profits went to my financial backers. Because I made these guys even richer than they already were, I had a loyal following of money people my entire life. Kind of like J.P. Morgan, if you know what I mean. I would have given anything to operate back when he made his fortune. Could you imagine what it would be like when you did not have to deal with the government and all their regulation holding everything back? Don’t even get me started about taxes.

That is a very exciting story Mr. Freeman.

You bet it is. Now listen here, Sugar Pants, you can just call me George.

George was getting drunk, and I could see that it was beginning to annoy Deena.

Toward the end of the oil crisis, I decided to take my game to New York since I was spending so much time in the city. I joined a couple guys that had a firm specializing in banks and the firm Jacob, Daniel and Freeman was born. He held up his hand and pointed at the ceiling. The rest is history. He laughed so loud everyone in the restaurant heard. He then got a philosophical look on his face, pointed his fork at Deena and said in a volume where everyone within two tables could hear, When people are scared, be bold, when people are bold, be afraid.

The first few times I heard it, I thought it was bullshit bluster. As time went on, I became a true believer.

After dinner, Deena excused herself to go chat with some friends at the bar. That is when George leaned over and asked me,

How did you like that deal I got for you today?

Even though I had been told he had arranged it, I asked him,

You got me that deal?

Hell, yeah boy. Do you think those idiot bosses of yours would have thought about you? They were too busy lining their own pockets to give a flying fuck about you. Now, me on the other hand, I have a need for you and want you to move to New York as soon as your little servitude to these clowns is over.

I thought you liked those guys.

They are gone and in the rear view mirror, boy. The only way I can make any money off them now is to fly down to Florida and take it off them on the golf course, and you know I hate golf, big waste of time. Are we going to get together next time you are in the city or not?

Are you offering me a job?

Of course I am offering you a job. You are one stupid piece of shit. Now shut the fuck up because that girlfriend of yours, that saves the poor with your and my money, is headed back this way. Did I ever tell you I think she has the prettiest ass I have ever seen on a girl? You remember this. It is just a piece of ass. Don’t let it get in the way of the big picture. Let’s get together as soon as you get to town, and I will let you know what I have in mind.

No other person ever saw this side of George except his partners, his secretary and me. Even though he talked crudely sometimes, I just wrote it off as the West Texas in him. I do not believe he felt that way. I don’t even think he talked to his girlfriend that way. Yes, George had a girlfriend in case you thought he might be gay and had a thing for me. He was probably the most heterosexual man I knew. He loved women, but he hated relationships even though he had been in one for more than ten years. He screwed around on Debra, and she probably screwed around on him. They were probably the biggest power couple in New York in financial circles. She was