The Cradle Will Fall: Part Two of the Tangled Web Trilogy

By Ian Black

Oh, what a tangled web we weave.
When we try to be like me.
Sloan Phoenix

Her plot is deadly.
Her scheme is sinister.
Her plan for Sloan Phoenix?
Give him everything he wants!
Two years ago, Judy Palmer was manipulated into murdering her unfaithful husband, Charlie, by the devilishly clever Sloan Phoenix. Now, after destroying the Prescott family, Sloan is the CEO of Prescott Industries. So just when everything looks like its going smoothly, Judy returns, hell-bent on destroying him. Partnered with the young Dan Pierce Jr., son of a deceased technology mogul and a former friend of the Prescotts, Judy uses a dark secret from Sloans past, putting his budding relationship with the young and beautiful widow Alexis Pierce in the crossfire.
To stop Judy, Sloan, along with his best friend, Garry Lennox, seek out the past of Charlie Palmer, setting them on the path of a deadly secret that involves Judys new husband, Dr. Chris Faulkner, and her tormented sister, Tara. And as Judy weaves her tangled web of deception, duplicity, and death, Sloan must untangle himself long enough to beat her at the game he taught her to play. Agame with three rules:
Keep your friends close.
Keep your enemies closer.
And take your secrets to the grave!

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 27, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524606879

Ian Black

The Revd Ian Black is Vicar of Peterborough, Canon Residentiary of Peterborough Cathedral and Rural Dean of Peterborough in the Church of England Diocese of Peterborough.

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© 2016 Ian Black. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 05/27/2016

ISBN: 978-1-5246-0688-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-0686-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-0687-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016907221

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To my parents, Raymond and Sandra,

who put up the a little boy who sat in the back seat of the car on their way into Pittsburgh, picking out random objects like cars, trucks and signs and finding words to make rhymes with. It probably stopped being cute when they realized that it was just a two year-old’s way of getting attention. But they put up with it and never stopped calling me a writer.

Contents

Acknowledgements

Prologue: Lullaby

The Tangled Web

Chapter 1: Reflection

Chapter 2: Sacred

Chapter 3: Nothing is Safe

Chapter 4: Dan Pierce

Chapter 5: The Screams of an Eight-Year-Old Child

Chapter 6: Closure

Chapter 7: Window Symphony

Chapter 8: Older

Chapter 9: Family

Chapter 10: Away

Chapter 11: Touch

Chapter 12: Child is gone

Chapter 13: Lyrics

Chapter 14: X-factor

Chapter 15: Journey

Chapter 16: wound

Chapter 17: Players

Chapter 18: Chemistry

Chapter 19: Turnabout

Chapter 20: potential

Chapter 21: Surprises

Chapter 22: That look

Chapter 23: Strings

Chapter 24: Forsaking All Others

Chapter 25: Omens

Chapter 26: Different places

Chapter 27: punished

Chapter 28: Gone

Chapter 29: Revelation

Chapter 30: Echo

Chapter 31: Role-reversal

Chapter 32: Blank

Epilogue: Pay

Acknowledgements

• The writing of this book comes after a very difficult period in my life physically, mentally and spiritually. I want to extend a personal thanks some of the people that helped get me to this point:

• My parents, Raymond and Sandra: For your endless support and strength. And for showing me that the bad things I have been through contribute to the great things I am capable of.

• My brothers Joshua and Jesse: For sharing your gifts with me in your own way.

• My Aunts Patsy and Marilyn: For being the family’s first responders. And for being mine.

• My cousins Shawn and Marcus: My #1 fans.

• J.P. and Dianna: For being welcoming and supportive and unrelenting in compassion.

• Collin, Christel and Lucy: For being there for me when I didn’t know you were there, showing the kind of good few people are capable of.

• Gregg: For never failing to show me what true friendship is.

• Michael: For being a sounding board and a constant encouragement.

• John: For making me feel like I haven’t been forgotten.

• Gene and Helen: For taking time for me when I was at my lowest.

• Alvin: For being a big part of rallying the troops in my hour of need.

• Kathy: For being my longtime advocate.

• And my personal heroes, Sharon K. and Sharon J :For putting your lives on the line for a stranger. (a whole other story in itself)

• I Love you all and am forever in your debt.

Prologue: Lullaby

The floor stung like ice beneath her feet as she stepped onto the kitchen floor. It stung with a memory of her seemingly long gone childhood. It went the same every time. She’d sneak downstairs in the middle of the night, in her pajamas and bare feet to rob the cookie jar. But every time, no matter how late she came, no matter how sneaky she thought she was, he was always there. She would never see him when he entered. She would never hear him come in after her. But every time she turned around she would find him there, sitting at the head of the round metal kitchen table, his head buried in the black and white folds of the evening paper. How he could read the newspaper in the dark was completely beyond her.

I guess old habits die hard, eh Sonny? Her dad didn’t even look up from the newspaper but she could feel him grinning from behind the pages of the lifestyles section as he slid a plate of duplex cookies toward her. Chocolate chip cookies and warm milk. You remembered.

He peeked over the top of the newspaper with a look as if he found her surprise absurd. He sighed and folded the paper, placing on his lap. I remember when you were five, you used to come down every night to raid your mother’s Winnie the Pooh cookie jar. Always for the same chocolate chip cookies. Sometimes they were different brands but you didn’t care. I’d always give you two and a glass of warm milk when I caught you. Afterwards, I’d send you off to bed with two more cookies in hand. You’d swear they were for you, but I knew you were taking them to your sister because she was too chicken to come down and get them herself.

Judy took the chair in front of her, across the table from her father. How’d you ever find that out? I never told that to anyone.

I know you, Sonny. I know you better than anyone. Remember that.

That wasn’t just a tender statement meant to warm her heart. What he said, about knowing her better than anyone. It struck a chord as solid as the rings on her finger that promised her to another man. A man her father didn’t particularly care for. She was no longer the little girl her father gave the nickname Sonny. Now she was Judy Palmer, wife to her soul mate, Charlie Palmer. In year since they were married, she could tell her father still had a great deal of trouble reconciling that.

Judy shrugged off her father’s statement with a gentle smile. You don’t know me as well as you think you do, daddy. I didn’t come down here for cookies. I came down for the rest of that strawberry rhubarb pie, mom made for desert.

I know you did, but I ate it all.

Dad, you hate strawberry rhubarb pie.

He chuckled to himself. Yeah, I know that too. It’s just that with you and your husband staying here—

Per your request.

It was your anniversary, and your mother wanted to do something special.

Like bake me a strawberry rhubarb pie? She giggled softly, watching him reluctantly smile.

Anyway, with you two here, and you eating for two, I hardly had enough dinner to fill a shot glass, so I woke up hungry. So it was either cook something and wake up the whole house, or eat that dreadful pie. He pushed the cookies closer to her. So that’s why I got you the cookies. But if you don’t want them. . .

It would be a shame to let them go to waste. Judy reached behind her to open the refrigerator, and grabbed the jar of pickles. She closed the door behind her with her elbow.

Her father’s voice squeaked high with revulsion as he watched her. What are you doing?

Judy twisted open the jar and dipped one of the cookies in the pickle juice. She took a bite from the cookie, watching her father grimace as he looked on her. What?

I was thinking that here was a time when you did that with milk. I’ll understand if you don’t want to kiss me on your way to bed.

Judy swallowed and dipped the second half of the cookie in the pickle juice. I have no idea what you are talking about.

Her father chuckled and pointed at the pickle jar. Let’s put it this way, you’re not kissing me with pickle-cookie breath.

Pickles and cookies don’t cause bad breath. That’s just a myth perpetrated by the potato chip and chocolate fudge people to get you to eat their products. She and her father laughed much like they did when she was a little girl and they had tea parties while they pretended to be characters in from Alice and Wonderland. Back then there wasn’t much to worry about—no tension between Judy and her father. No tension between him and the man she loved. Just a little girl and her daddy enjoying each other’s company.

She rubbed her belly, thinking about how she hoped this new baby would unite her family and put an end to the ill will between her father and her husband, Charlie. Her father looked on her, tenderly as she ceased laughing. She gently put her hand on top of his, rubbing his knuckles with her thumb. Dad, I know it’s still hard for you accepting Charlie but thanks for letting us stay here. You and mom did everything up so special.

As much as I have my differences with your husband, I couldn’t let that keep me away from my little girl. I want you to know that no matter what happens in this family, you will always have me and your mother.

She smiled gently looking at the diamond engagement ring as it twinkled faintly. Thank you, daddy. I think I’ll always have Charlie too. There was a tender silence in that moment. For Judy’s father, his silence was probably about repressing the urge to speak ill of Charlie, thereby preserving the moment and avoiding another argument. For Judy, the silence was appreciating the strength it took her father not to say anything. It showed her how much he really loved her. And how he would do anything for his children.

Judy suddenly became deaf to the silence as an unbelievable pain seized control of her torso. She fought herself to not to scream and instead grunted loudly, taking tight hold of her father’s hand.

Her father’s voice leaped out with soft concern. Sonny, what is it?

Judy struggled to speak as the sharpness of the pain faded and slowly and stole her breath from her, similar to how a punch in the stomach would make one feel two seconds after. I think it’s a contraction."

Her father motioned to get up and reached around to help her. We should get you to a hospital.

I think we have to wait till they’re five minutes apart before we can go the hospital.

Trust me, a father knows these things. The baby’s coming. Your mom made the same face on a car ride to Vermont when she had Tara. Come lie down in the living room. I’ll wake up your mother and Charlie. Her father helped her into the living room and onto the couch, gently, as he did when she was eight years old and her appendix burst. He rushed up the stairs and left her to wait. Though it was only a few of minutes, the waiting in the intermittent bursts of pain along with the silence made it seem like forever. And just when Judy thought she breathed away all the pain, another, more powerful contraction shot swift agony throughout her body. It felt like her insides were spasmodically caving in like her body was a soda can crushing itself around the moving solid mass inside her. She gripped the couch and the cushions to squash out the pain. In the wake of the pain she heard her father clip-clopping down the stairs.

Your mom and Charlie are getting ready they are going to take our car. Your overnight stuff is in the trunk of Charlie’s. I have his keys. I called the hospital. Your sister and Marcus are working at the hospital tonight. They’ve got everything ready for you.

Judy looked over at her father guiltily, puffing through the pain. I had another contraction. And it was a big one.

I knew it.

How did you know?

He shook his head nervously A father knows. He helped Judy to her feet and led her to the door. Don’t worry, Sonny. Everything’s going to be fine.

It was a blinding flash of pain from the front porch to the car and a rush of breathlessness from the driveway to the main road. She could see headlights in the rearview that someone was following them. It must have been her mom and Charlie. Judy felt something tear inside her below her waist. And then there was a warm wet feeling like she lost control of her bladder, but she didn’t. Daddy.

He was eying her peripherally while he jetted the car down the wet and empty roads. Are you ok, Sonny?

Judy shrugged embarrassingly. My water broke.

Hold on, Sonny we are almost at the hospital.

Judy could barely speak between the labored breaths the pain was forcing on her. This is happening so fast. Why is this happening so fast?

Her father’s voice was suspiciously calm as he kept his eyes on the road. Calm down, sweetie. Sometimes it happens like this. When your mom had Tara—

Mom! Judy panicked as she saw nothing but the black of the road behind them in the rearview mirror. She and Charlie aren’t behind us anymore.

We were probably going too fast for them. I’m sure they are on their way. Your mom drives like an old lady.

Judy struggled to turn behind her in the wake of the pain. No! Something happened. I can feel it.

The only thing you’re feeling now is labor pain.

Judy pushed out a growl over her puffing. You’re a man. What do you know? she paused a moment apologetically, giving her a moment to think about her husband. I want Charlie. I want Charlie with me. I’ll feel better if we turn around to get him. Please."

He shook his head, eyes fixed on the road ahead. Sonny, if we turn around and they’re following us we’ll miss them and you’ll have to have this baby on the side of the road. Now, we’re almost at the hospital and I’m sure they’re right behind us.

Judy didn’t want to concede. Everything inside of her screamed for her to press her point. She could feel that something was wrong. Beside the excruciating the pain, that is. It seemed as if the pain had a will of its own. A will that kept her from speaking against her father’s wishes. She tried to breathe through the pain in order to gain control of those muscles, but it didn’t seem to help.

Her father pulled into the emergency wing’s parking lot, where there stood two men in white jackets stood over a wheel chair. They were waiting for her. The car pulled up in front of the wheelchair and Judy’s father hopped out of the car and rushed to her side to help her out into the chair. As Judy sat down, she looked around for signs that Charlie was coming around the corner. But there were none. Something’s wrong. I can feel it.

Nothing’s wrong you’re baby’s going to be fine.

Another bolt of pain crashed through her abdomen. So powerful lost it almost made her lose consciousness and suddenly Judy found herself racing through the ivory white halls of Carolina Bay general hospital. When she opened her eyes, she saw her sister, Tara and her fiancé, Dr. Marcus Raymond, marching alongside the two male nurses pushing her wheelchair. They held what they must have thought were comforting smiles on their faces as they rushed her to the delivery room. Since Judy and Tara were sisters, Tara, in her residency, was restricted from being treating Judy as her sister. However, ever since Tara and Marcus started seeing each other, Judy’s father took an instant liking to him, and when Judy learned that she was pregnant, her father insisted that Marcus be her doctor, probably hoping she would fall for him instead of Charlie.

While in the delivery room, Tara and another nurse assisted in getting Judy out of her clothes and into her gown, immediately rushing her onto the table.

After the nurses left, Tara later walked in the room, wielding a very frightening, very long hypodermic needle. What the hell is that thing?

I’m going to be administering your epidural. She set her needle down on a shiny, metal cart, all set up with plastic and shiny metal tools and picked up a small tray with two smaller needles and a two tiny glass jar with a clear fluid inside. Tara seemed so nervous. She wasn’t a doctor yet. But being a little more than a semester from getting her degree in at medical school, she was understandably nervous at the prospect of skewering her sister during her first labor. I need you to sit up on the side of the bed with your back arched. Still huffing and puffing from the a pulsating cramp of pain in her abdomen and back, Judy complied and rolled over to the side of the bed and sat up with her legs hanging over the side of the bed.

Tara paced over behind her. Judy felt a cold wet sensation as Tara dabbed her waistline with an antiseptic-soaked cotton ball This is going to be a little pinch. Judy could tell that Tara was going to make a good Doctor. She was already learning to lie, because both needles were anything but a little pinch.

The length of each of the punctures prompted Judy to ask, Why all the needles?

These are to numb the area for the needle. The epidural will relieve the pain in during the delivery.

Judy sighed at the idea of being poked and prodded during labor. Tara, I doubt much anything will relieve the pain of a full –fledged human being trying to rip its way out of a tiny porthole in my body.

Tara laughed slightly through her nose. It’ll all be over soon. Before you know, you’ll be knee deep in poopy diapers and leaning over the baby’s crib and singing some old lullaby off-key.

Judy took a moment to bathe warmly in that thought. The sight of Tara walking toward her with that gigantic needle instantly yanked her out of that thought. Wait! I don’t want to have the baby till Charlie gets here.

Don’t be too confident, sis. Labor usually takes much longer than this for first-time mothers. I’m pretty sure Charlie will be here by the time the baby comes. With what Tara must have thought was an assuring smile, she approached Judy with that needle. Charlie should be here shortly. Don’t worry, he’ll be on time.

Judy closed her eyes and mentally braced herself for the needle as Tara walked behind her. She let out an uncontrollable banshee-like scream as the needle punctured her skin, nearly touching the bone of her spine. After a few eternal seconds, Tara removed the needle, bandaging up the puncture hole and helped her lay down, with her legs in the stirrups.

Dr. Raymond, Tara’s fiancée strolled in, holding his clip board, with the band of his face mask pinning down his hopelessly outdated -fresh-out-of-the-sixties long hair. How’s our girl doing?

Tara nodded nervously and arranged the needles on the tray She’s Pretty dilated; she’s ready to go.

Judy figured it might have been the affect if the drugs, but their words began to become incoherent. Her head began to feel as if it was floating inside a thick gelatinous cocoon, like she was going to drift off to sleep and drown in the soupy sea of the agonizing moment. The pain in her gut and between her legs seemed to take up less of what little attention she managed to maintain. She felt loopy. The kind of swimmy feeling that made her unaware what was going on around her, or how much time had passed. As Marcus squatted on a stool between her legs at the end of the bed, and she began to push the baby through the swelling canal in her lower body with as much effort as she could will herself to muster. A flood of questions rushed in Judy’s mind. What time is it? Where’s Charlie? When is he getting here? Was she supposed to be to feel like this during labor? Her body seemed to surpass the pain and fatigue and seemed to do the work of the delivery all by itself. After seemingly endless moments of following Marcus’ orders to push out the baby, her memory of each passing second faded and faded even amidst the pain. Until it was over. Until she came back.

She was drenched in sweat. Her belly felt hollow and empty. It wasn’t until after she wondered why Marcus and her dad were staring down at her with pity, did it occur to her that she didn’t hear any crying. Where’s Charlie? her voice was deep and groggy, as if she had awakened from a drunken stupor.

Her dad brushed the sweat from her forehead. Charlie’s here. He’s out in the hall with your sister."

Despite the numbness I her legs, Judy attempted to sit up, but was stopped by her father’s hand Where’s the baby? I don’t hear the baby."

Marcus stepped forward, looking pitiful and remorseful. Um—Judy, I have some bad news. The baby didn’t make it. The baby’s heart stopped during delivery. I’m sorry.

That statement immediately brought a hollow painful feeling in her gut—in her womb where she carried the child. She shrugged away Marcus, as they reached to comfort her. Judys head fell into her hands. Warm, salty tears leaked between her fingers as she sobbed and wailed unabashedly. She dared to look up from her hands when she heard the door open. In walked in Charlie. Charlie, his bold red hair mussed and sticking up straight up as if he had been combing his hair with his fingers in frustration He cautiously s walked toward her, with his face flushed and wet with tears, holding the bright pink baby blanket she forced him to watch her knit clutched in his hands. As he sat next to the bed, she took the blanket from Charlie’s hands and brought it to her face. She could smell the hope of a new baby all over the blanket. She wept harder at the thought of no one getting to use it. For that was the blanket that she would wrap the baby in. The blanket she would sing a lullaby to get her to sleep through the night. So much hope wrapped in the scent of that blanket. So much despair escaping that same blanket.

Charlie wrapped his arms around Judy. Judy hugged him limply in return, the blanket still clutched in her hand. Still feeling the hope of that baby, she began to sing a soft lullaby. When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall. And down will come baby, Cradle and all.

Previously …

Nine and a half years ago in the New England city of Carolina Bay, best friends, Sloan Phoenix and Garry Lennox left the orphanage in where they grew up in search of their birth parents. Their search ended in a dual disappointment. Garry learned that his mother had gone insane after his father, a man named Charlie Palmer, left her to be with his wife. Sloan learned similarly that this father, Chad Prescott, left his mother to be with another woman, a young socialite, Sydney Walker. Chad later married this woman, after becoming very wealthy off of several savvy business investments. Sloan’s mother, Magdalena Phoenix died shortly after giving birth to him.

After learning this, a very bitter Sloan with, the help of his friend, embarked on a several-year-long campaign of manipulation and revenge against his father and his two children Mike and Chloe Prescott, Sloan became involved with a former flame of Mike’s, a wealthy, young socialite Kristen Evans, later manipulating her into breaking off their subsequent engagement by leaving Sloan for Mike. All of this ignited a firestorm of bitterness and anger between Sloan and the Prescott family, the climax of which left Kristen incurably insane, due to a psychoactive drug, called scratch, both Mike and Chloe dead of their own volition, and Sloan inheriting the family business after the fatal heart attack of Chad Prescott.

In return for Garry’s help, Sloan sought out the wife of Garry’s biological father, psychiatrist Judy Palmer. Under the guise of a patient, Sloan groomed her to kill her husband for his most current infidelity with Dr. Palmer’s young secretary, Kristen Phillips by telling his stories of revenge against the Prescott family. After learning of Sloan’s manipulation and their past connections, Judy attempted to murder Sloan, framing Sydney Prescott for the deed. After learning of her failure, Judy quit her practice and, in one final twist, tricked Sloan and left him outside her high-rise office window handcuffed to a flagpole.

The Tangled Web

By Ian Black

Sitting in my hiding place. . .

In my dark and lonely hungry space. . .

Then one day it’s you I see,

pretending not to notice me.

I lure you with a hidden line

to draw you in and make you mine.

My hypnotic dance you watch me do,

in effort to devour you.

You draw in closer just to feed

the need to dance along with me.

And how deeply does this interest lie?

Is it in your mind and behind your eyes?

Past your chest? Between your thighs?

Along your spine onto your hips,

emerging softly on your lips.

Your heart beats at a rapid pace.

You start to run, I start to chase.

With your enticing hungry stare,

you make me fall and gasp for air.

Alone I dangle tethered to

the tangled web I wove for you.

Chapter 1: Reflection

Sloan Phoenix looked on his transparent reflection, while gazing down at the city. That reflection was as close to seeing his own soul as someone like him could possibly get. In some ways it was like staring at a stranger, floating aimlessly in the autumn cold. But in that exact same way it was like staring at himself. For no matter how far he stood above the streets he stood, at least part of him would always be on the outside, looking in. For a moment his mind stood still, trying to appreciate the complexity of such a notion. But the moment passed with the shaking of his head. Those thoughts were self-indulgent and self-pitying. And such thoughts were not of Sloan Phoenix.

In some ways it surprised him when thoughts like that crept into his mind. In other ways it did not. It wasn’t even ten years ago that Sloan was a poor kid, leaving the orphanage he grew up in to find his place in the world. Now he was pacing around the boardroom of the Prescott building, fifteen floors above the busy downtown streets of Carolina Bay, staring down a savvy mahogany boardroom table with a phoenix emblem in the center that stamped the fact that all of this belonged to him.

Deep thoughts, Mr. Phoenix?

Mary Don Viuda, Sloan’s assistant. She always seemed to enter the room with more stealth than his cat Churchill. Her last name means widow in Spanish, which Sloan thought was unfortunate, but he was too polite to bring it up. She was an immigrant from Spain in her late fifties. And though she wasn’t as young as some people prefer their assistants, and though still had the habit of referring to him as Mr. Phoenix, Mary had more than earned Sloan’s respect. Only about three months into the job, Mary managed to completely revamp the head office, reorganizing the database for efficiency, so Sloan knew he had done the better for having chosen her among all the other candidates for this job.

He looked up at her as he sat at the head of the table and smiled like a child greeting his mother after a long day at school. I was having those for a second, but I got over it.

Good to hear. You’re way too introspective for a person your age.

You have no idea how many people would disagree with you. By the way, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Sloan?

She shrugged and flashed grin. Sorry it slipped. I forget that people calling you Mr. Phoenix makes you—how did you put it—sound like a cartoon super villain?

Sloan stood up and paced toward her casually. You keep quoting me you’ll end up writing my introductory text book.

Mary chuckled lightly looking down at her watch. We’ll have to save Sloan Phoenix 101 for another time. The reps from Pierce Technology are here.

Obviously it was a little later than Sloan expected. He must’ve gotten really introspective. Has Miss Faulkner arrived yet? As the only other shareholder in the company, she did say she wanted to attend this merger meeting. Seeing as how either of us have met her yet and only corresponded through e-mails and text messages, I was hoping to get acquainted before such a big meeting.

Would you like me to tell them to wait?

No, no, it’s okay. There’s no sense in keeping them waiting. I can’t officially start any negotiations until she arrives, but I might as well use the meantime to cut what I am sure will be some thick tension before the meeting begins. Just let me know when she gets here.

Mary shrugged compliantly and turned toward the door. When she left Sloan remembered exactly how frustrating this upcoming meeting was going to be. He never said please or thank you. He always did that with his staff. Something he learned from his father, Chad Prescott, the former owner of this company. This meeting had him so much on edge that he forgot his manners.

Today he was meeting the Pierce Technologies family. Daniel Pierce Sr., the company’s founder and CEO, passed away over a year ago. Since his passing, the company has been staggering to the point that most of its shareholders thought it prudent to sell the company, which is where Prescott Industries entered the equation. The situation was more complicated because of Daniel Pierce’s son, Daniel Pierce II. The Pierce family had close ties to the Prescott family. The younger Daniel Pierce and Mike Prescott, Chad Prescott’s son, were friends, which, given how Sloan came to be in control of Prescott Industries, bred a great deal of contempt. Owning 60 percent of the company, in his will, Daniel Pierce Sr. split his ownership of the company down the middle, giving half to his son and half to his very young wife, Alexis Pierce, with certain conditions. Through various e-mails, meetings and conference calls, Sloan managed to convince Alexis and the other board members that an acquisition by Prescott Industries was the best way to ensure the survival of their company. All the board members combined with Alexis equaled about 70 percent of the company’s ownership. And though according to their company charter, they only need support and approval from seventy of the shareholders to make such a move, a unanimous decision would make workings between the two companies infinitely smoother.

And then there was the new issue of the new Prescott Industries shareholder, Mrs. Faulkner. The former owner of those shares belonged to Marcus Raymond, the most prominent OBGYN in the city, and a friend of Chad Prescott’s. Until his passing, Dr. Raymond remained a silent partner. He was mostly in it for the money. The new heir to his holdings wanted to take an active role in the company. According to their company charter, she was entitled to have an active role, which could make her a liability with regard to Sloan’s running the company to his liking.

Mary Don opened the door and welcomed in the representatives from Pierce Technologies. In filed two lawyers, four members of the board of directors and the two majority shareholders, Alexis and Daniel. They were followed by two of Prescott industries’ lawyers.

Alexis, Daniel Pierce Sr.’s second wife, married into the Pierce family about four years ago. Only a three or so years older than her stepson, Alexis Pierce had a reputation for causing controversy wherever she went. But as Sloan knew first hand, 80 percent of reputation is pure rumor. And 95 percent of pure rumors are outright lies and exaggerations. So what does reputation count for anyway? Some of it may be true. Some of it may not be. He tried to keep that in mind when dealing with her. But when she came cat-walking toward him like a supermodel with her super-trendy, shiny auburn hair that draped over the shoulders of a form-fitting red business suit, which accentuated her touch-me-here curves that were smooth enough to roll a quarter on, the only thought Sloan Phoenix could keep in his head was, To hell with reputation. She extended her finely manicured hand and took Sloan’s, giving it a professionally dainty shake Mr. Phoenix, a pleasure to meet you again.

Sloan smiled, finding it difficult not to be overwhelmed with how stunning she was. Sloan, please. And the pleasure is all mine. Please, have a seat. He took his seat as everyone sat around the table. Alexis and the Pierce Technology people on the left. The two Prescott Industry lawyers sat at the right. There was an empty chair immediately at Sloan’s right. We cannot officially start yet as we are waiting on another member to arrive. She should be here shortly. But if I or any of my associates can field any questions or concerns you might have regarding these negotiations, please feel free to ask.

Cameron Harris, one of Pierce’s lawyers leaned forward, staring up at Sloan from over her thick-framed glasses. Mr. Phoenix.

He raised his forefinger to politely interject. Sloan.

She gently cleared her throat with an edge of nervousness "Sloan, the partners are in near unanimous agreement that being purchased by Prescott Industries would be mutually beneficial, and essential to the survival of Pierce Technologies. However, just for the record, could you state your overall plan for the company?"

Sloan stood up and paced behind his chair. Certainly. This isn’t a buyout in the strictest sense. Though Prescott Industries has a highly successful tech division of its own. Having two top-of-the-line tech companies under its belt is not a bad deal. And essentially signing over the requested majority percentage of your shares over to us beats selling those shares out on the open market, thus keeping Pierce technologies, much like Prescott Industries, privately owned. The basic plan is for Pierce Technologies to remain a semi-independent business with very little corporate supervision. Its overall goal is to benefit of Prescott. Prescott’s majority ownership does not only ensure that it benefits from the progress of Pierce Tech, but that the financial concerns of Pierce Tech are our responsibility. Now I know that there has been some reservation to this proposal, particularly with my being at the helm of this endeavor, but hopefully we can use a few moments in this meeting before the signing to iron out those differences.

Dan looked up sharply, tapping his pen on the table. If you’re referring to my reservations, you’re wasting your time. I’d sooner sign my shares over to a street corner hustler than to you.

Sloan repressed a frustrated grimace and leaned over the back of his chair. Have you looked over the proposal?

I don’t have to look over anything. I know who you are. I know that you’re selling us a bill of goods and I, for one, am not going to be a part of it. Now I may not be able to stop this farce, short of talking sanity into one or more of the partners, but let it be said that I took a stand against this. And I can make it difficult as hell for you to move forward.

William Hagan, one of Pierce