A pudgy man in his mid-fifties, Gallaher had barely walked in the door of his home in the suburbs when Austin rang the doorbell. He immediately turned around and answered it, "Yes?"

Austin handed him a business card. "I am Maggie Jackson's attorney. We need to talk."

Gallaher swallowed hard, glanced back inside, and then came out, and closed the door. "How much does she want?"

"It seems she discovered a slight, shall we say, mismanagement of funds, or if you prefer, fraud in your company."

"Fraud? Now see here."

"I could talk to the FBI, if you would rather." Austin started to walk away.

"No wait. What will it take to shut her up?"

"Your signature on these papers."

"What papers are those?"

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Austin pulled a document out of his inside jacket pocket and handed it to him. "Sign that and all of it goes away."

Gallaher's eyes began to bulge as he realized what the document was. "The Gladstone Corporation wants to buy the business?"

"My client's offer is more than fair, considering we will have to return all the deposits to the customers. Of course, I'll need you to sign a confidentiality agreement, which states you are not to tell anyone about this sale. It's all right here." Austin reached in his other jacket pocket and withdrew the confidentiality agreement.

Gallaher studied that one as well. "I can't tell anyone?"

"You can't even go back to work," said Austin. "Sign it and there will be no investigation. I am certain you are aware of the penalties associated with fraud."

Beads of sweat were beginning to form on Gallaher's upper lip. "I had nothing to do with it."

"Perhaps not, but that might be a little hard to prove in court, especially after Miss Jackson testifies."

Gallaher blinked a couple of times, looked at the bill of sale again, and paused for a moment more. "I want six million."

Austin took the papers out of his hands and started to put them back in his pocket.

"Wait, I'll sign."

*

Cellphones, for those few who worked at GSTS and could afford them, were to be turned off during working hours. When Jim's cellphone rang, Roxie the Robot leaned forward to see who was breaking the rules.

"All done," Austin said.

"Hot dog!" Jim shouted.

Austin chuckled. "Do your thing in the morning and then meet me at the house."

"I'll be there." When he looked up, Roxie was standing in the opening of his cubical with her hands on her hips.

"We don't make personal calls during work time."

"Roxie, it was an important call. I just won the lottery." He stood up, patted the top of her head and grinned. "You need to loosen up; you're going to have a heart attack if you don't chill out." With that, he headed out the door.




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