Delicate Chaos Read Free

Coal-Balt found a way around the tax laws. Nothing illegal, simply good business.”
    “What are they proposing?” she asked, her interest piqued.
    “There are three separate vehicles Coal-Balt can use—Enhanced Income Securities, Income Participating Securities and Income
     Deposit Securities—to tie together a share of stock and a high-yield debt. The junk debt and shares, stapled together, replace
     the trust in its truest sense.”
    “Interesting approach. Will it work?”
    Halladay shrugged. “They’ve run the figures, Leona, and I’ve seen the breakdown. It does work. The restructuring is a stroke
     of brilliance.”
    “What about regulatory approval?”
    “The regulatory guys at the stock exchange have given the transition a green light. They need some more paperwork, but approval
     is pending. That paperwork needs to come from us.”
    “Why do they need us onside?” Leona asked.
    “We hold two hundred and eighty million in demand loans. Our agreement to the conversion is one of the caveats the exchange
     requires to okay the deal.”
    Leona asked, “Who do you have in mind for my team?”
    “You pick the people you need. This is your deal.”
    “Okay.”
    “It goes without saying how important Coal-Balt is to us,” Halladay said. “I don’t foresee any problems with this conversion.
     I hope you don’t either.”
    Leona glanced at her watch. It was ten minutes past twelve. “I have an appointment for lunch,” she said. “It’s too late to
     cancel.”
    “No, that’s fine, you go ahead.” Halladay rose from the chair. “When will you be moving upstairs?”
    Leona couldn’t stifle the smile. “Whenever you’re ready for me.”
    “Then I’ll see you Monday morning. Your personal effects and computer will be moved up after work tonight.”
    Leona nodded and Anthony Halladay turned and left her office. She liked and trusted the CEO and having the position of vice
     president dropped in her lap was more than a nice touch. But she didn’t like offers that came with strings attached. Never
     had. And the Coal-Balt file felt like a major string. I don’t foresee any problems with this conversion. I hope you don’t either. That didn’t sit right with her. Like Halladay was telling her the outcome of her team’s findings before they began. It was
     out of character for the man.
    Leona switched off her reading lamp and hurried to the elevator. Her lunch date was waiting. But she wasn’t too worried. If
     the restaurant served beer, which they did, he would wait.

3
    Mike Anderson sipped on his bottle of Budweiser and watched the lunch crowd. People-watching was one of his favorite pastimes,
     and there were few places better than downtown DC. Washington was all about power; if you had it you flaunted it. If you didn’t,
     you either faked it or played the attentive pup listening to the master. The percentage per capita of sycophants in DC had
     to be the highest in the country. In the world, perhaps.
    He glanced around Kinkeads, knowing he was the square peg in the round hole. The luncheon crowd in the upscale seafood eatery
     was mostly suit and tie or dark pantsuit, gender dependant. He was jeans and a white T-shirt. Ex–New York cop, now mixed in
     with politicians and lobbyists. Gasoline and a match if he drank enough. It wasn’t a stretch to recognize Anderson as ex-cop—he
     looked the part. He was dead-on six feet, 210 pounds, most of it still muscle and bone. His waistline had finally settled
     in at thirty-eight, no belly hanging over his belt. No wrinkles creased his face, except for tiny crow’s-feet that stretched
     back from the corners of his eyes. He had a full head of dark hair, a strong jawline and quick brown eyes. Anderson finished
     his beer and waved at the waiter for a refill. He’d be good today, he was meeting Leona and she didn’t like it when he drank
     enough to get belligerent. He ran his hand over his chin, feeling the stubble. It was only one day but