Southern Justice, Part 18

I’m Fixin’ To present part 18 of: Southern Justice.

Jackie and B. Wendell’s next contact was by phone the next day. Rick had gone to the bank to get a signature card so Jackie could have access to his checking account.

As soon as B. Wendell Hormel”s voice came over the line, without even saying hello Jackie blurted out, “Did you get that fax?”

She heard him chuckle before he answered, “I sure did. At the current rate that Home Depot stock is worth over two million, making the items listed on the fax to be worth over four million.”

“Wow!” Jackie gasped, “that’s more than I ever dreamed of!”

“Hold on, my dear,” B. Wendell instructed her. “What exactly did he say when he gave you this list?”

“He said he wanted me to give it to you and tell you it contained the things he wanted to leave me in his will.”

“That could pose a small problem,” B. Wendell cautioned, “because he left the most important item off the list—-his company, Pic-Ric Products, Inc.”

“Oh,” Jackie uttered in dismay, “should I remind him to add it?”

“No–no, I don’t think so. He probably didn’t intend to have it on the list. So what I’ll do is just add it to the list and no one will ever know except you and I.”

“What do you think Pic-Ric is worth?” Jackie asked.

“I can’t answer that since it’s a privately owned company, but probably much more than you and I can imagine. When you take over we’ll bring in a firm of financial consultants and come up with a number; then we can put it on the selling block.”

“What about the other stuff” Jackie asked.

“The items he placed on the list will be easy to liquidate into cash, but the company will probably take us some time.”

“Oh, well,” Jackie declared, “I think I can make it on four million for a while.”

“That’s two million and eight hundred thousand,” B. Wendell reminded her, “after my thirty percent is deducted.”

“Of course, B. W. I just meant the total amount.”

“Anyway, we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves. You still have work to do. Everything else is in order so I think you can proceed full speed ahead.”

“That’s exactly what I intend to do,” Jackie confirmed.

And she did. She intensified everything, beginning with the alcohol. There were mimosas every morning, which were 90 percent champagne and 10 percent orange juice. Lunch was always preceded with several straight whiskeys on the rocks. The cocktail hour began early and continued until the late dinners, then began again and was always followed with several liquors before bedtime, which was usually sometime between midnight and dawn; consequently Rick was constantly in an alcoholic fog.

The food regimen was just as brutal. Not a meal was missed. Jackie always prepared a massive breakfast, while lunch and dinner were taken out, with her placing the orders for the killer dishes.

The activity in the bedroom was extraordinary, resulting in Rick feeling proud but astonished at his capacity, totally unaware he was being slipped massive doses of an enhancement drug.

There was always a clean ashtray with a fresh pack of cigarettes and a lighter in Rick’s bathroom, his office, on his bedside stand, by his seat on the dining room table and beside his easy chair.

It was Thursday morning, April 29, 10 days since Jackie had talked to B. Wendell. She called him while Rick was in his usual state of early morning unconsciousness.

“Jackie,” B. Wendell said affectionately, “I’ve been thinking about you. And how is you husband?”

“Damn near dead, I think. Any normal person with a bad heart and high blood pressure would have already been dead. But he has been complaining about dizziness the past few mornings, and wants to see his doctor.”

“Better not let that happen,” B. Wendell cautioned.

“Oh, no way,” Jackie replied. A doctor would put him straight into the hospital. He weighs at least ten pounds more than he did the last time you saw him. His face is all red and bloated. He looks like hell.”

“Well, you keep up the good work and stay in touch,” B. Wendell instructed her.

“Oh, don’t worry, I will. This could be a very interesting weekend!”

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