Chapter 19

We enjoyed our lunch and spent a lot longer than usual just visiting. Mr. Bell was thrilled about Rebecca's pending baby, and we talked about what ifs. What if she's a girl? What if it's a boy? What if they're twins? What if this ... what if that?

Fatherhood didn't worry me. Being a lousy father was a huge concern. Mr. Bell had some sage advice. "David, you have a gentle, kind spirit. If you let your kindness and tendency to react logically rule your behavior, you'll do fine as a father.

"If I had been more back then like you are now, maybe Coulter wouldn't have rejected everything we tried to teach him, but that's water under the bridge. The truth is, the best parents are good people, and as is typical of good people, they make good decisions naturally, without theatrics, anger, petty agendas, or ego. They just see the problems and use their innate good sense to deal with them.

"You'll do fine, and Millie and I will be right beside you to help." He smiled that half happy, half sad smile, he sometimes shows when things make him sad.

"I can't imagine a better role model, for me, or our children, than you, Mr. Bell," I said with conviction. It seemed to perk him up a little. "Having lost my mother, and there being no relatives, I can't wait to have children that I can spoil, who will then grow up, get married, and have children just so I can spoil them. It is my sincere prayer that you and Millie never get tired of me, because I look forward to our children running to you, climbing up in your lap, and screaming, 'Grandpa! I missed you.'

"Something tells me you and Millie would enjoy that, also.

"I'm pretty good at domestic things, so I'm not afraid of diapers, three o'clock feedings, bathing time, or children throwing up on me. Rebecca and Colleen have no idea how domestic I am, because they haven't seen that part of me.

"You know that Rebecca got scared off, when we were attacked the first time, because I shot those guys. It was way too scary for her, and because I refused to stand there and let them kill me, then kill them, it scared her even more. I still have to live down that night, in her eyes, and prove to her that the guy is not dangerous, but will do it all again to protect her, you, Millie, Colleen, and our child.

"I'll put anyone down that threatens us, but I'm not some psycho killer, and Rebecca doesn't fully understand that. If, however, Jack finds out who put the order out to kill my mother, I will put them in the ground, Mr. Bell.

"At some point, I have to make this all stop. Part of stopping it, is making a statement to these bastards that there is a price they don't want to pay, for killing my mother. It's expensive! If they come after you guys, I'll hire the entire French Foreign Legion to take them apart.

"Watch me."

Mr. Bell changed topics on me, "So, let's talk about minor league baseball. What do you know about the sport? What makes you think you can own and operate a team? Where did you get the idea, and why did you propose we do it together?"

Uh-huh. I knew I had to take his questions in order. It was part of how he schooled me. I drew a deep breath and said, "I LOVE baseball, but things have been in such a tumult, I haven't had time to enjoy it since before I met you. I loved playing baseball back home, and hope to rekindle my appreciation for the sport, while using the business to hone my professional skills. If I can't do this with someone I love, why bother? The idea came into my head when I read an article about a Double A team having difficulties.

"What do you think about the idea, beyond what you said before?" I turned it right back on him and smiled when he realized what I'd done.

"Baseball would be good for Branson. We need our town to seem more like a city than a bunch of theaters and tee shirt stores. Many of my peer group would think this was a great idea. As fast as we got them to put money into sponsoring their own billboard on the outfield fence, they'd become our biggest fans. It's win-win all the way around.

"What you don't know is that our city officials are desperate to find new and exciting venues to promote Branson, and the tourism that keeps the town alive would benefit from the new and different types of travelers that a team would bring. I think the city would put some serious money behind your project, if you lead the way."

"Mr. Bell," I said. "You have to be the face of the team, at least for the near future. People are not going to take a sixteen-year-old serious, but over time, I can prove myself to the point that they accept me because I've been at it so long. We have all the money we'll ever need to make a go of minor league baseball, and if we like it, we can buy a share of the Royals, and then acquire more shares whenever they become available. If you let the word go around, that we are in the market to buy, sellers will think of us first, when they need or want to sell."

I could see him turning that over in his head, so I waited. "I think we should proceed carefully. If you get me the names and details of the owners, I can have Annette begin due diligence and find out what we need to know about the financial condition of the team, their lease obligations, and any hidden obstacles that might hold us up. We can see what we can see, and go from there." He looked happy to be talking about a project we could do together, and I knew I was, so going ahead looked like a good deal.

As we walked to the Lexus, Mr. Bell's phone rang. He spoke briefly and hung up. Turning to me he said, "It looks like we have some official visitors at the office. We'd best get back."

It took a short time to drive to the office, and we saw three black SUVs outside, ringed with armed agents. One started towards us, as I turned the Lexus into our parking lot, but another one pointed and said something. The first one stopped short and cleared out of our way, so we could drive right up to the door.

Mr. Bell hopped out, and we quickly went inside. Another agent opened and held the door for us, then motioned towards Mr. Bell's conference room. I had that tingle in the back of my neck that shows up when very bad things are about to happen.

Judge Jones, the Assistant Director of DHS, and two others I didn't recognize were waiting for us. Mr. Bell introduced me as the young man that was attacked by Tim Sanderson in Florida, and introductions were dispensed with.

"Jim," the Judge said, "We have a problem. It seems that Tim Sanderson has some pretty outrageous ties to shady companies in Florida that funnel money to the mob. We need to sit down and discover EXACTLY how you got into this situation that resulted in your call, a few nights ago. Then we need to decide on a strategy that puts it all to rest, once and for all.

"Let's start with young David, here." Turning to me he said, "I am Federal Judge Cleveland Jones. Your boss, Mr. Bell and I go back a little ways, but not so far that I understand the lay of the land around here.

"You were, as I understand, attacked by your biological father, Tim Sanderson, and very badly wounded. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sir," I said carefully. I'd need to be extremely careful how I answered these types of questions.