I Carried A Working Budget Into The Second Court Hearing

I wanted to ask Celia how the bank could do this after I had found the false release.

Instead, I asked, “What payment would let the company keep operating?”

“Send a budget,” she said. “Something the receiver can support.”

I called Amina.

“I know the routes,” I said. “I need help putting the rest on one page.”

We worked at the dispatch table while rain tapped the roof. I supplied customer fees, mileage, nitrogen costs, wages, and the repairs our older van would need.

Amina asked about every number.

“Is this revenue promised, billed, or paid?”

“Billed.”

“Then let's label it that way.”

Our best month wasn't our usual month. A shipment deposit wasn't free money. Client property wasn't something we could sell.

I had known those facts without having names for every column. Now I could see how Blaise had hidden behind the columns.

The working plan showed average monthly receipts of $44,200 after the lost accounts. Wages and ordinary costs came to $31,600. We proposed $8,500 a month to the bank for ninety days, leaving a small repair cushion.

We also asked for the return of the $57,600 Copper Vow sale proceeds sitting in a frozen Blueglass account.

With the bank's agreement, that money would reduce our principal to $228,400.

“I can't promise every farm stays,” I said.

Owen read the plan.

“You haven't promised that. You've shown what happens if two more leave.”

The lower estimate still covered wages and cold storage. It left very little else.

I crossed a new van off my wish list. We could patch the seat and replace the tires. The people whose stock we held needed steady service more than I needed clean paint.

“Would you support it?” I asked.

“Yes. Subject to weekly reporting.”

At the next hearing, Blaise's lawyer argued that the dispute had wrecked the business and the stock should be sold quickly.

“My client needs access to his investment,” he said.

Ruth stood.

“He transferred the assets for one dollar, according to the papers he submitted. He now calls them his investment.”

The judge asked for the budget.

I watched her read it. I could hear someone turning a pen in the row behind me.

“Who will perform these routes?” she asked.

“I will,” I said when Ruth indicated I could answer. “With our relief driver. We priced the plan using the wages we actually pay.”

“And the inventory controls?”

“Two people sign each removal. Owners receive a receipt. The receiver gets a weekly count.”

Ash Fork's lawyer raised its claim to the same stock.

The bank's lawyer pointed to the earlier loan and the disputed release. Ruth pointed to the disputed company consent.

The $540,000 claim would need a fuller hearing. The judge left the disputed lien in place for now, with no sale under it.

The lenders and receiver agreed to a short operating period under the court's order. The bank would receive the recovered sale proceeds and monthly payments. Nobody could take client stock to satisfy a business debt.

When the clerk stamped the order, I let myself breathe.

Outside, Blaise waited by the elevator.

“You always wanted to take my place,” he said.

“I wanted to keep mine.”

He had no audience except Ruth. He turned away.

The work began at five the next morning.

I drove toward Versailles with a sealed shipper secured behind me. Fog hung low over the fences. I had made that drive so often that I knew where the road would brighten before the sun came up.

At the first barn, the manager checked the seal with me.

“Same procedure as before?” he asked.

“One extra signature.”

“Fine by me.”

Back at dispatch, I found an envelope addressed to Mrs. Pierre. Blaise had called me that when he wanted me to feel like a part of him.

Inside was a message asking me to meet him alone and a photograph from our wedding.

I placed the photograph in a drawer. I sent the message to Ruth.

Then I told her to file for divorce.

Over the next month, we made the first $8,500 payment. Then the second. Clients received weekly statements. Three mistaken charges, totaling $1,440, were refunded.

Amina found who had created the false dispatch entries: Nell's account. The account history matched the time she had sent clients their delivery notices.

The business began to feel like a place with walls again.

One evening, Owen called me back as I reached the door.

He had received a sworn statement from Nell. She claimed Blaise had altered everything alone.

Attached was a new affidavit with my name at the top.

It claimed I had approved the deal by phone.