No one paid him any attention.
Normally, he was required to confirm physically with the Priority that the processing had been successful, but that mandate had been waived for tonight because of the prior mistake. In the morning, he’d check and be sure.
Right now, he had other appointments.
6:20P.M.
HANKREED WAS GLAD TO HAVEBRENT BACK.HE’D MISSED HIS BUDDYmore than he would ever openly admit. Almost twenty-five years of age separated them. Brent was a college graduate and a lawyer—white collar. Hank barely made it out of high school,trained as an electrician, blue collar all his life. But in many ways Brent was the son Hank never had. They understood each other. Always got along. No pretending existed between them. He liked that. Nobody else had ever been that close to him. Ten years ago, when Brent left town, it had hurt.
But that was something he kept to himself.
Thankfully his “son” had returned.
He watched as Brent dissected a medium-rare T-bone, the table’s location right smack in the middle of Aunt B’s main dining room.
Exactly where he wanted it to be.
“Back one day and already in trouble,” he said to Brent. “I didn’t realize Clarence still carried a chip for you.”
“People get real emotional about lawyers. Especially one who takes your kids away. I’m used to it.” Brent pointed. “What happened to your hair?”
His trademark mane had always been coal black, razor-cut, layered to perfection. A bit unusual for a blue-collar guy, but he liked to look good. It was no real secret that dye accounted for much of the tint, but a few years ago he’d finally allowed silver to invade.
“I got tired of foolin’ with it. Besides, it’s time I start looking my age.”
He was sixty-four, but prided himself on looking and acting like a man much younger.
“Damn, Hank. You growing up on me?”
“And it’s good to see you too, fella.”
Brent smiled.
He’d always called him fella, buddy, or counselor. Only when it was something serious had he ever used his first name.
“You get in today okay?” he asked.
“Left Atlanta this morning and drove in right after lunch.”
“The district attorney sad to see you go?”
“I actually think he was. Doesn’t feel like ten years have passed since I left here.”
“You ready to become a company man?”
Brent shrugged. “I never thought I’d be one.”
“Me either. But I think Southern Republic’s glad to have you on the payroll.”
“I’m surprised, considering what we used to do to them.”
“I think that’s what did it. They were afraid we’d re-team.”
They’d made quite a pair. He the union head, Brent the hotshot local lawyer who knew no fear. Together they’d wreaked havoc with Southern Republic and, along the way, forged a reputation for them both.
“You got here just in time,” he said. “Contract negotiations are right around the corner. It’s going to be tough.”
“More than usual?”
