Maxwell told him many times that the numbers were not sustainable. He repeated it to his cohort, who was sitting in front of him. “We are overspending.”
“You gotta spend money to make money,” Gerber responded.
“Not if you don’t have it,” was Hawthorne’s response.
“Hey man, what world are you living in? It’s all smoke and mirrors. We inflate the value to get more money from the banks if necessary.”
“We’ve had this discussion before, Spencer. Looking for investors, private or public, could bring scrutiny we do not want.”
Gerber pinched his nose, then opened his arms wide. “My friend, we are creating a perfect world for old folks.”
“Some of those old folks have old ideas about money. Not all of them want to put it in our trust or leave it to us.”
“But they don’t know they’re leaving it to us. We set up charity funds, remember?” He stood. “Listen, my man, I have a meeting to get to. Let’s continue this convo during the week.” He stopped. “Nah, let’s not continue this convo. You’re getting yourself worked up for nothing. Just get that bill on the table, and we’ll be golden.” Gerber turned on his heels and left the congressman’s office.
Hawthorne shook his head. “Right. Charity.” The only charity funds money was going to was to his spoiled wife, and Gerber’s drug habit.
Max recently discovered his “partner’s” affinity for crystal methamphetamine, commonly known as ice. It was highly addictive and was becoming a financial burden on their private business account. Max knew they were in deep. Very deep. Doo-doo deep. There were moments when he wanted to pack it in. But how? Where? It was a “rock and a hard place” moment.
Something else was going sideways. Max noticed his wife and Gerber were getting a little too chummy. He overheard a conversation she was having with “Spencey” over the phone. They were speaking in very low tones, and Max knew they weren’t planning a surprise party for him. On the other hand, maybe they were, but it was some other kind of surprise. He almost wished she would leave him for Gerber. That would take care of one of his problems.
Max’s congressional aide knocked on his door. “Robert Hannah is here to see you.”
His head jerked up. “Robert is here?” Max’s palms were getting clammy. Hannah was the chairman of the Committee on Oversight and Reform. It was their job to maintain the efficiency, effectiveness, and accountability of the federal government. They hold hearings on a multitude of issues such as cybersecurity, energy, information technology, and health care. If an investigation is warranted, the matter will be charged to the various subcommittees. It was a complicated process, one that Gerber promised he and Max’s scheme would be invisible to, since their take was minuscule compared to the overall budgets.
Maxwell stood and extended his hand to his visitor. “Robert. What brings you to this side of the building?”
“Good to see you, Max. May I sit down?”
“Yes, of course. Can I get you anything?”
“No. Thanks.” Robert was a very imposing man. His six-feet-four build carried over two hundred and twenty-five pounds of weight. He had been working on The Hill for almost thirty years and had a reputation that made an angry bull look like a puppy dog. Max placed his hands in his lap. He didn’t want the senior member of Congress to see him trembling.
“I understand you are introducing a new bill to further fund long-term care facilities.”
Max nodded. “I’m from Florida,” he said, with a nervous chuckle.
“I understand.” Robert didn’t laugh at the offhanded joke. “However, during the last audit, we discovered that there are funds going to private companies, some of which are not licensed by their state, or their licenses have lapsed.”
Max tried not to hyperventilate. Would their plot be taken down by a stupid clerical error? He made a mental note to check with Spencer’s aunts.
“That doesn’t sound right.” Max pretended to be concerned, but for reasons other than himself.
“Which is why we need due diligence on the programs that are in place before we can try to squeeze more money out of the budget,” Robert explained. “That is why I am asking you to scrap your bill for now.”
Max had two separate internal reactions. The first was relief that he wasn’t being investigated; the other was panic about finding money.
“Of course. Whatever you say. I surely don’t want the money going to unofficial organizations.”
“Good. Glad we see eye to eye on this one.” Robert rose from his chair. “Thanks, Max. You have a good future ahead of you.”
As soon as the congressman was out of his office, Maxwell Hawthorne heaved into his trash can. Spencer Gerber was not going to be happy.
Max sent a text to Spencer:We need to talk. NOW.
Chapter Sixteen
The Next Phase
