Read Online Grave Undertaking by Mark de Castrique - Free Book Online Page B

Sandiford, “we decided we couldn’t afford to take a chance on re-staffing while we had so many other operations in transition.”
    “What’s changed?” I asked. I drew a line across the page, figuring we were getting to the heart of the matter. There was a knock on the door behind me. “Hold on a second,” I told Sandiford. I tore off the sheet and stuck it in the magazine just as Mom came in with a plate of toasted English muffins.
    “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were on the phone. You never made your muffins.” She set the food on the magazine beside me and retreated. I waited until her footsteps faded down the hall.
    “Go ahead, Mr. Sandiford.”
    “Ted, please. A couple things changed. Four years have passed and our operations are running smoothly under the Hoffman umbrella. We’re profitable and we need to re-invest in our own company. Otherwise, certain tax advantages will be lost. And then there’s you. You’ve returned and from my conversation with your uncle, I gathered you’ve done an outstanding job interfacing with your community.”
    “Interfacing?”
    Sandiford laughed. “Now that’s a word that’s just full of it, isn’t it? I mean people think highly of you, Barry. You provide a good service. Clayton and Clayton is in good hands and I’d like to know if you’re interested in joining hands with us. We have a lot to offer each other.”
    “Maybe, but I need more information.”
    “Of course. So do I. There is one consideration about the timing.”
    “What?”
    “Our fiscal year ends December 31st. If we can fast-track this thing, it helps our bottom line, and some of that help can be passed on to you.”
    “You mean the sooner the deal, the better the deal?”
    “Exactly.”
    I looked at the calendar hanging above my computer screen. Today was the 9th. Ted Sandiford was talking three weeks with Christmas thrown in the middle. “That’s awfully fast, Ted. I don’t see how we can get everything worked out.”
    “We don’t need everything worked out. If we have some key documents completed and notarized by year end, our team of accountants and lawyers can massage the details.”
    I didn’t have a team other than my archery buddy Josh Birnam who did our taxes and Carl Romeo who had drafted my parents’ wills. I was David with an abacus going into negotiations against a massaging, interfacing Goliath who had invented his own syndrome. Ted Sandiford heard the silence.
    “Barry, I want you to think what’s best for you and your father. You’ll come out with cash and a job. We offer corporate health care, a 401-k profit-sharing plan, administrative support, and you don’t even have to change your commute.”
    “What about my parents?”
    “You can use the money to get them into a proper home or a facility that handles special needs. I know this has hit you out of the blue. Like I said, I’m a bird dog. The corporate tax lawyers let me off my leash and I’m looking for the best game I can find. I hope we can at least go to the next level.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Meet face to face. Bring you down to the Atlanta office. You can get some numbers together for me and I can give you more specifics and start to hammer out a potential deal. What do you say? Is Thursday or Friday better for you?”
    The dates on my calendar were as empty as a roadside wine bottle. “You know this business,” I said. “Hard to say. Right now I could probably swing Friday.”
    “Great. I’ll keep both days open in case you need to adjust your schedule. Now here are some things you should pull together.”
    Sandiford spent the next fifteen minutes listing the information I was to bring. In essence, he wanted our company books with the expense and revenue figures for the last three years. He also wanted purchase details of all our funeral supplies, furniture, embalming equipment including serial numbers, and company vehicles. His team would do a depreciation analysis which would affect