Brash Endeavor, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 3 Read online

Page 5


  Chapter 4

  INCA OIL COMPANY

  Rebekah was pretty cool to me all night after meeting with Gena. I didn't dare tell her about the encounter with the police. The next morning, I filed Gena's bankruptcy and then headed to my appointment with Tex at Inca Oil Company. The meeting was in a small office building off the Dallas North Tollway on the third floor. When I walked in, Tex was sitting in the reception area reading a magazine.

  "Good morning Stanley. How are you?"

  "Okay, I guess."

  "You guess? What's wrong, you get up too early this morning?"

  "No. I just got through filing a bankruptcy and I don't feel too good about it."

  "Well, at least it wasn't your own."

  "Yeah, but I've got a really bad feeling about this case."

  "Why did you take it then?"

  "Well, I didn't really know there was anything wrong until it was too late."

  "Oh well, it probably won't turn out so bad."

  "I hope not."

  As we were talking, the receptionist advised us that Mr. Tomlinson was ready to see us. We got up and followed her into his office. As I entered the large corner office I noticed a short, obese man of about forty-five sitting behind a big oak desk chewing on a cigar. He was discussing something with a younger, dark complexioned man seated to his right. When he saw us he got up, walked toward us and said, "Come on in, gentlemen."

  We all shook hands and then sat down.

  "I guess Tex has filled you in about our business, Stan," Mr. Tomlinson said.

  "Well, he told me a little about it, but not in any great detail."

  "Then let me fill you in. Inca Oil Co. was formed about five years ago to search for existing wells in proven fields that were shut-in and abandoned because of low oil prices. With oil and gas prices as high as they are today, often times new productive wells can be developed near the old sites. By researching production records we can almost predict what a well will do in advance of drilling it. We've drilled about a dozen wells to date and eight of them are currently in production."

  "How do you find your prospects?" I asked.

  "Well, we have a geologist who goes from courthouse to courthouse, to the Railroad Commission office, or to various oil companies and pours over old production records to find wells that have been plugged. When he finds one that fits a certain criteria then we go take a look at it."

  "I see."

  "Recently we've run into a snag, however."

  "What kind of snag?"

  "Well, the abstract companies have been deluged with so much business lately it takes six weeks to three months to get a title report on a prospective lease."

  "Huh. That is a long time."

  "Well, we just can't afford that kind of a delay and that's why we need an attorney."

  "I see; you need an attorney to check out the title to the land you want to put under lease?"

  "Exactly."

  "That shouldn't be too difficult. I'd just have to go to the county courthouse in each county where a prospective drilling site was situated and check out the deed records. The only problem is the travel time to each of these courthouses could make my work pretty expensive."

  "Well, we’ll just have to figure in your fees into the cost of the project."

  "Right."

  "The way we raise our money is to solicit investors. We have a lot of doctors, corporate executives and others who invest in our wells. When we get a prospect ready to sell, our sales staff of about ten men and women start calling our old investors and new prospects to see if they want to invest in the well."

  "How do you determine how much money you need to drill the well?" I asked.

  "That's Bird's job. He's been in the oil business for over twenty years and he can price out a well better than anyone," Tomlinson replied, "So what do you think, Stan?"

  "I'd love to represent you. It sounds exciting."

  "It is, there's nothing more exciting than seeing a well come in. All that black gold just pouring out of the ground like a gift from God. And when those royalty checks start coming in it's like you've won the Irish Sweepstakes."

  "So you've been successful eight out of twelve times?"

  "That's right. Our success rate can be attributed to Bird's experience in picking out good wells and the strategy I just outlined to you of just exploiting proven wells that were abandoned for economic reasons. Many times when these wells were shut-in the technology wasn't advanced far enough to allow the full exploitation of the wells. Often fifty to sixty percent of the oil was left in the ground. But with today's technology we can pull out ninety percent."

  "Huh, that's quite an improvement."

  "I should say so," Tex said. "Stan, I've watched these guys from when they drilled their first well. They know what they're doing, believe me."

  "I do."

  "So do you want to work with us on these projects Stan?" Tomlinson asked.

  The question gave me an uneasy feeling. Why the big sales pitch? I felt like I was buying a used car. Then I made eye contact with Bird. He was a mysterious looking man with this long, silky black hair pulled back into a pony tail. Who was this guy?

  "Stan? Wake up, boy," Tex said.

  "Oh. Definitely, count me in."

  "Good, welcome aboard," Tomlinson said.

  "Thanks."

  "Okay then, Bird has a well he needs checked out as soon as possible."

  "Fine. Do we need to talk about fees?" I said.

  "I suppose we better get that out of the way," Mr. Tomlinson replied.

  "I charge a hundred and twenty-five an hour plus expenses."

  "That's pretty reasonable. Our last attorney charged one fifty," Tomlinson said.

  "You might want to consider doing this on trade," Tex said. "That's what I'm doing."

  "What do you mean?"

  Tomlinson sat back and answered for Tex, "Well, for every dollar you charge us we put that much money into one of our wells. Then if the well hits . . . hell, you may end up making nine hundred and fifty dollars an hour.

  "Well, that's tempting but I've just started in law practice and I need to get my cash flow going."

  "I can understand that, Stan, but look how much cash flow you'll get if one of your wells come in."

  "True, but I can't afford to gamble right now. Maybe later on when I get my practice stabilized I'll consider it."

  "Okay, but if you change your mind just let me know."

  "Sure, I'll do that."

  "Now, go with Bird into his office and he'll show the prospect and give you your assignment. It's been a pleasure meeting you, Stan and I'm looking forward to working with you."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "Now that you're on board you can call me Brice," Mr. Tomlinson said.

  "Thank you, Brice," I said.

  "Tex, you stay here I need to talk to you about that policy you're working on. What's this about rating me just because I weigh 285 lbs.?"

  Bird took me into his office and immediately began asking some personal questions. I told him about Rebekah and the children and how I had just started practicing law. Then I asked him about himself.

  "Are you married?" I asked.

  "Yes, but Sheila and I don't have any children. We wouldn't have time for them. I travel a lot and Sheila is heavy into the social scene down in Corpus."

  "You live in Corpus Christi?"

  "Uh huh, we've got a place on the bay."

  "Do you have to spend a lot of time in Dallas?"

  "I'm here during the week but I'm back home on the weekends."

  "Your wife must hate that?"

  "She's gotten used it."

  "My wife wouldn't tolerate that. She needs relief from the kids at night."

  "I bet. Does she work at all?"

  "Uh huh, she's an R.N. She works part time in the ER and ICU at Central Receiving Hospital."

  "Really? That must be pretty exciting."

  "She enjoys it most of
the time, but it's pretty intense work. Some of the doctors can be pretty nasty, I guess."

  "Central Receiving, that's off of Central Expressway near Walnut Hill Lane, isn't it?"

  "That's right."

  Bird picked up a file off of his desk, opened it up and said, "Well, we've been looking at a prospect out in west Texas, near Cisco. We need you to go out there as soon as possible and check it out."

  "I've been through Cisco. It's about a two-hour drive, isn't it?"

  "Right. When do you think you could get out there?"

  "Probably in a couple of days."

  As we were talking the door to the reception area opened and a young woman appeared. She was wearing a crisp white blouse with a window pane plaid skirt, mid-thigh length. Her legs were conversation stoppers. She gave Bird a concerned look and said, "Don't forget about tonight?"

  Bird frowned and said, "Relax, I haven't forgotten."

  "Good."

  "Melissa, I want you to meet Stan Turner. He's our new attorney. . . . Stan, this is Melissa Madigan."

  "Hi, I said."

  Melissa smiled and replied, "Oh, it's nice to meet you."

  "If Stan needs anything get it for him, okay."

  "Certainly," Melissa said and then left.

  "Melissa's a pain at times, but she's got a body you wouldn't believe. I keep her around to keep up my morale."

  "She'd definitely keep up my morale," I laughed.

  "Okay, take this file and look it over. If you need anything else, let me know."

  "Great, I will," I said and then got up to leave. Bird escorted me out and I went back to my office. I was excited about the Inca Oil project. Pouring over deeds wasn't the most exciting thing I could think of doing, but it would pay well so I was happy. As I sat pondering my new project the telephone rang.

  "This is Gena. Did you get my bankruptcy filed?"

  "Yes, I filed it this morning."

  "Good. I think someone's been following me. I thought it might be someone from the bank."

  "Well, the bank doesn't know the case has been filed yet so you better be careful until we can get the word to them."

  "You mean they can still take my Vette?"

  "Well, they might take it by accident not knowing that a bankruptcy has been filed yet. I've been out of the office all day so I haven't had a chance to call and tell them you filed bankruptcy."

  "Okay, well hurry up and call them. I just can't lose my car."

  "I will. I thought you were going to be out of town today?"

  "My plans changed."

  "They did, huh. Well when you get your bankruptcy notice be sure and note on your calendar when your creditor's meeting is scheduled. You've got to attend that meeting."

  "Okay, I will."

  I laid back and took a deep breath. Maybe Gena's case would be okay. She seemed fine today. Before I could totally relax the phone rang again. It was Gena again.

  "They took it!" Gena moaned. "They're hauling it down the street right now. You've got to do something, Stan! They can't take my Vette, you can't let them!"

  "Shit! I'll call the bank immediately. Where are you?"

  "I'm at Northpark . . . near Nieman Marcus."

  "Do you have someone who can come pick you up?"

  "No. . . . I don't have anyone."

  "Well, can you call a cab?"

  "I don't have any money."

  I put my hand over the receiver and took a deep breath trying to contain my frustration then I removed my hand and continued to talk.

  "Okay. Just wait there and I'll come and get you. Don't cry, we'll get your car back."

  I immediately drove to Northpark and picked up Gena. Then we went to a pay phone and I dialed Gena's bank and asked for her loan officer. After a few minutes a man came on the phone.

  "Can I help you?"

  "This is Stan Turner. I'm Gena Lombardi's attorney."

  "You have my condolences."

  "What? Never mind. You just repossessed her car and she filed bankruptcy this morning."

  "We didn't get any notice of a bankruptcy."

  "I know. We just filed it this morning. You're under a court stay not to disturb her property."

  "Well, I don't know anything about that. All I know is I've been trying to get that car back for three months and I'm not going to return it unless my attorney tells me I have to."

  "Well, I suggest you get your attorney on the phone and advise him of the situation. I want that car returned today or I'll file a contempt motion."

  "I'll call my attorney right now, but sometimes it takes days to get him to return my calls."

  "Then I suggest you drive over to his office and camp at his door until he talks to you because I'm not waiting a couple of days!"

  "Call me back in an hour. I'll see what I can do."

  "All right. I'll call you back."

  I turned around and Gena looked like she was in a trance.

  "Are you all right?" I said.

  "That was so great," Gena said.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "The way you chewed out that old bastard gave me goose bumps."

  "What? Come on . . . give me a break."

  "No one has ever stuck up for me like that before."

  "I was just doing my job. It was no big deal. I'm sorry they took your car."

  "Well, can we get that drink now since we have an hour to kill."

  "It's a little early for drinking. How about a cup of coffee?"

  "I'd rather have a martini."

  "Let's stick to coffee. Come on, there's a coffee shop inside the mall."

  After we killed an hour in the coffee shop I got back on the phone and talked to Gena's bank officer. He had talked to the bank's attorney and had been instructed to give Gena her car back. He advised me where to go to pick it up."

  "I've got good news for you, Gena."

  "What did they say?"

  "They're going to give you your Corvette back."

  "Oh thank God. I'm so happy. I hope they didn't damage it. When can we get it?"

  "We can go right now, come on."

  We drove to the bank and sure enough Gena's yellow Corvette was parked in the back. We went inside and asked for Gena's loan officer. He was busy, but his secretary brought over the keys to the car and gave them to her. Then we left the bank and walked over to the Corvette.

  "This is a nice car," I said.

  "It's fabulous. I love it."

  "Well, I'm glad you've got it back."

  "Stan, you were wonderful today. Thank you so much." Gena said as she suddenly put her arms around my neck and gave me a big kiss. Gena jumped in the car and sped off down the street. I shook my head, wiped the lipstick off my lips and went back to my car. I hadn't ever met anyone like Gena. She was so confident yet so confused. She was determined to get what she wanted, but I doubt if she really knew what that was. She was wild, out of control and obviously very dangerous. I wished I'd never met her, but I couldn't keep my mind on anything else.

  I was happier than usual to see Rebekah and the kids that night. So much had happened during the day it seemed like I had been gone a week. It was nice to be around the people I loved. It's not that there was anything wrong with my new clients, but as I watched and listened to them I wondered what was really going through their minds. What did they really think of me? Were they impressed or were they laughing under their breath. Was I a pawn jumping at every command or was I a knight charging off to defend each of them. I didn't know the answer but one thing I did know was that I didn't like being in the dark. I wanted to know exactly what was going on and how I fit into the game, otherwise I didn't want to play.