Cholo

I sat on the back deck as Mr. Bale practiced putting on his personal putting green. Beyond him, as far as I could see, was nothing but ocean. I took a drink of tea, looked at Downes, and then glanced at Parker.

After I swallowed, the flavor of the tea came to life. “That tea is something,” I said. “Wow.”

“Peach, today,” Downes said. “One of the late Mr. Ward’s favorites.”

“The former owner?”

He nodded.

Mr. Bale looked down, focused on the head of the putter, and then swung it smoothly. The ball rolled to the other side of the green, paused slightly, and then rolled to the left a few and fell in the cup.

Mr. Bale looked at me. “The game of golf, Mr. Downey, is lost or won right here.”

“On the green?” I asked.

He nodded. “Everyone gets on the green in two or three strokes, and they’ll four putt their way into a loss. I have vowed not to step onto another course for as much as a glass of tea until I’m capable of a sub-par round at Torrey Pines’ south course.”

Torrey Pines was a world-renowned course in La Jolla that overlooked the ocean. “Do you think you’re ready?”

He nodded. “I do.”

He walked up the steps, onto the deck, and sat down at my side. “Downes said you have a proposition.”

“I do.”

He took a sip of tea. “I’m ready to hear it.”

“Before you respond, know either way, there’ll be no hard feelings,” I said.

“Nor will there be on this end,” he said. “I can assure you.”

I wished it was that easy. It never was. But, if Mr. Bale inherited as much money as he said he had, doing what I was about to ask him would be rather easy for him. There was a risk, but it was minimal for him.

I’d tried everything I knew to try and give a bid for the home on the beach, and nothing would allow me to buy it without having the IRS crawl up my ass about spending cash.

Undoubtedly the FBI or ATF would be next, and with me being part of an MC, there’d be ongoing criminal enterprise language brought up, and I’d be spending my life in prison.

I needed a way to launder the money, and I needed it quick.

I had four hours to figure out a way to buy the home, get the money deposited, and turn in my bid.

A pipe dream. That’s what it had become.

But, it didn’t hurt to ask.

I took a deep breath, exhaled, and then began. “Through the course of my employ, I’ve saved a large amount of cash. I’ve reached a point that I’d like to buy a home, and I’m incapable of doing so, due to my assets all being cash.”

He wiped the sweat from his glass of tea, and gave me an intent look. “You’ll need to make a bank deposit with a check or have a wire transfer done. Those methods will satisfy the IRS, as long as there’s a reason for the influx of funds.”

“Something like that,” I said. “But it would have to be legitimate, yes. For safety’s sake.”

“Are you asking for an advance for the work on the bathrooms? If so, I have no problem--”

“No,” I said. “It’s not that. It’s considerably more money than that.”

“I see. What are your thoughts?”

I hated to ask, but he was my only choice. I hoped my asking didn’t sever ties with him, and I began to second-guess my decision to make the proposition.

“Mr. Downey?”

“Sorry. I was thinking. I think I’m just going to wait. Nevermind.”

He clasped his hands together, leaned forward, and locked eyes with me. “I’m not above taking a risk, Mr. Downey. The greatest rewards in life are provided to those who take the greatest risks.”

I smiled. “I’ll give you $1,550,000 in cash in exchange for a deposit into my account in the same amount. And, if you agree, I’ll provide the work on the bathrooms for free.”

He stood and crossed his arms. “I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing.”

My heart sank.

As I sat hoping he hadn’t lost respect for me in asking, he cleared his throat and continued.

“I’ll pay for the bathrooms,” he said. “I asked for the work to be done, and I’ll pay for it. Is that the only concern? The deposit?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes, Sir.”

“How promptly?”

“I’ve only got a few hours.”

He looked at Downes. “Call Hec, will you?”

Downes pulled out his phone, stood, and pressed his fingers to the screen. As he walked away, I looked at Mr. Bale.

“If we can get this done, it’d be a dream come true for me. I’ve been saving for ten years or more, and then I came into some money. I’ve got a deal on a house that needs a lot of work, but it’d be worth twice what I’m paying when I’m done.”

“Mr. Downey?” Downes said from behind me.

I turned around. “Yes?”

He cupped his hand over the phone. “Mr. Hec Astur on the phone for you. He’d like your routing and account numbers.”

I looked at Mr. Bale. “Don’t we need to…I’ll have to get you the cash, and then…”

“We’ll resolve that issue later. Take care of Mr. Astur’s needs. He’s old and cranky.”

With my heart racing, I took the phone from Downes’ hand. “Adam Downey,” I said.

“Hec Astur,” he said. “If you can provide me the pertinent information, I’ll see to it you’re paid promptly for the work you’ve performed. If you’d like to bring an invoice by the office later, it’ll keep the IRS off both our respective asses. Let’s see, the transfer amount for the work is…$1,550,000. Is that correct?”

“Uhhm. Yes, Sir.”

“Do you have the banking information for your institution?”

I shoved my shaking hand into my pocket and pulled out my wallet. After retrieving a check from my wallet, I read him the information.

“Have a nice day, Mr. Downey. You’ll have your money in an hour. Glad we could be of assistance.”

The phone went dead.

I handed it to Downes and collapsed into my seat.

“What else can I do for you today, Mr.Downey?” Mr. Bale asked.

“Slow down the clock?” I laughed. “I need to get two places in a matter of hours, and riding that bike is killing my foot. I hit it on my steps again.”

He looked at Downes. “Fire up the B7, Downes. Would you? And take Mr. Downey wherever he’d like to go.”

He extended his hand. “I’d love to spend the afternoon, talking, Mr. Downey, but I have a friend who’s racing against the clock on a home purchase.”

I shook his hand.

As we walked to the garage, I wondered what could make a man so considerate. I decided as Downes was flying up the 5 at 140 miles per hour that Mr. Ward’s generosity must have changed him.

It was an easy conclusion to come to.

Because I knew his generosity changed me.