THE TRUTH MESSENGER by HOTZ MENDEKOA

THE TRUTH MESSENGER 1

The Angel and the Lawyer: A legal paranormal courtroom novella. Written by Allan Jon Kretzmar, JD

Chapter One: Robber Baron

TRUST BANK HEADQUARTERS PENTHOUSE SUITE SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA FRIDAY AFTERNOON Baron pushed a piece of paper across the shiny lacquered desk over to Jake, who was sitting across from him in his spacious office on the 32nd floor of the American Trust skyscraper in downtown San Francisco. It was a clear, crisp day in the Bay area.

“I am sure that you were wondering why we flew you up here.” “I must say that the thought did cross my mind.” “Open the paper, that’s the figure we are offering. Just for signing up with us. Consider it a signing-bonus, as it were.” Baron was short, stubby, stocky, nerdy, and he spoke in staccato-like breaths, as if the words had to be forced through his asthmatic lungs lest they disappear. He peered over his illfitting spectacles, eyes darting back and forth. Jake unfolded the paper, and whistled when he held the check in his hand. “You want to pay me this?” “Yes,” Baron smiled, “just for joining our Team. I would like to be the one that enticed you back into the law again, after all the success that you have been enjoying as a writer, it would be good to have you back doing law again.” “I see that you have done well for yourself.” “Oh yes, Jake,” Baron patted his suit with his short, stubby fingers, “custom tailoring is all I wear these days. And the travel perks, the salary, sweet deals, man, more that you

can even make in writing I am sure. I eat lobster every night I am out.” “I can see,” Jake noted the rotund frame of his sudden admirer, “what do you want me to do?” “Run our Loss Mitigation Department. You’ll be in charge!” Baron’s tongue darted over his lips, trying to wet them. “We have been under a lot of scrutiny lately with all the ‘robo-signing’ stuff that has been going on out here, and we want a guy like you to clean up some of the schmutz that has attached to our name.” “That is being pretty honest.” “Well, I campaigned for you, man, after all we have known each other how long now?” “I think it’s seven years?” “About that. What do you say?” “Well, I have to think about, speak with Zara Jane.” “Dude, you don’t need to ask the old lady’s permission for everything you do. This is your chance to make some serious money man, guaranteed. And you can do good work, help us clean up the bad. You will be in charge.” 6

“Complete discretion?” “Well, not exactly, you will have to run things past me, of course, but I promise that I won’t stand in your way – you make the call, I will just give you a little direction. There is one case that we are particularly interested in -- the Hamiltons in Palo Alto. Wealthy couple, claimed hardship, got too far ahead of themselves, trying to forestall their foreclosure, you know, cases like that. We want to do the right thing, Jake, clean up the department, and stop the scammers.” “Can I think about it? How long is your offer on the table?” “Well, we really need to move on this, can’t dilly-dally. We need your decision. By tonight, okay?” “Who are you up against?” “John Wiley, he’s the worst of those plaintiff’s attorneys, a real pain in the ass. Frankly, I want to bury the guy. Figuratively, of course.” The tongue did its unsuccessful dance over his dry lips to wet them, again. It was a disreputable movement, quick, and darting. Furtive and sequacious in its snake-like repetition. 7

“But of course. Why him?’ “He is a one-man band, trouble-maker. We want you to throw everything you can at this guy, bury him in paperwork, anyway Jake, that’s all strategy – lets talk in a few hours. Take in the sights once you are up here.” “How do you envision the job working out? I am in Beverly Hills.” “Video-conferencing, and you can use the team here to make appearances, etc. We just want you to be comfortable running the show, and we have full confidence in your abilities. Bar card?” “Re-activated.” “Great! Ball’s in your court, buddy!” Baron stood up, signaling that the meeting was over. Jake shook his hand, and studied the cold blue eyes that met his. His friendliness was forced, Jake thought, he seemed like a man that could speak equally eloquently from both sides of his mouth. Jake picked up a silver ball that served as a paperweight on Baron’s desk, and rolled it towards him.

“Back at ya!” He laughed, then walked out of the huge marble-tiled Counsel’s Executive Office. He rode the plush elevator down to the ground level in contemplative silence. There was something invigorating about contemplating being back in the legal profession. Jake knew Baron from his days at the law firm, who proved himself to be an attorney of steel will and rapine-like instincts for the jugular. Not surprisingly, Baron had now worked himself up to Trust Bank’s Chief In-House Counsel’s Office, a place where his cunning and intrigue could languish and rest. Jake was sure that there had to be a more sinister reason than the offer of loot alone that caused Baron to suggest his joining this team. Jake for the first time in a long procession of years found himself conscious of the need for vigilance. His name and reputation were now part of the commerce and logistics of the whole delicate interplay of his life and work, and he wanted to make sure that he acted in conformity with the highest ethical expectations. If not, he realized, he may have to extricate himself with surgical care and precision before he, or someone else, got hurt. 9

One of the things that Jake liked best about writing was that no-one got hurt. In law, there were always winners and losers, with the righteous and the just not always sitting in the winner’s circle after the fray. Someone always had to lose. Such are the realities of a zero-sum game. That evening Jake received a call from Baron at ten o’ clock on his cell phone. “So Jake, have you come to a decision? We are ready to put a little blurb out there about you heading up our litigation team, you know, cleaning house, all that good stuff.” “I think I can do it. Six months is all I can commit to though. It that okay with you?" “Look, we are happy enough you are joining us. I will make the announcement. I am sure it will instill some confidence in the stock price. Things have been rough for our Bank in recent months. This helps us a lot. You too, eh?” “Well, your offer is very generous.” “Consider it good faith funds. We are turning a new leaf here, Jake, and you are spearheading that for us. Congratulations.” 10

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Thanks, Baron.â&#x20AC;? Jake tossed his cell phone onto his hotel bed, and looked out at the Wharf lights. Jake felt he was being set up, somehow, as a reluctant hero under the spotlight. Baron and his Bank were enthusiastic about his name being out there as joining them, and he hoped that they were as committed to righting the wrongs they claimed they were. Jake poured bourbon from the heavy glass decanter, and felt a strange sensation as he sipped the brew. He felt like a specimen on a dissecting table, his innards somehow sliced open, exposed for the world to see. This imparted a sense of foreboding. It felt they were doing just a little too much selfconvincing of their now-changed more angelic disposition. Jake always believed in his star, and felt that if he left it up to the hand of destiny, the reason and the rationale for him being where he was, doing what he was doing, would all be revealed in due course by the unwinding of time. He just did not want to think anymore about what that destiny might be. He took another sip of bourbon, and allowed the liquor to glide languorously over his tongue, the liquid imparting a reassuring warmth as he swallowed. 11

If there was intrigue at play, and they wanted to hook him, he was on the hook at least for now. If he we being played, he thought, that too would be revealed to him. I think there are always reasons why I have experienced all the unusual, strange, and mysterious vicissitudes of my lifetime, he mused, and if there is a dark side to this, this too would be revealed. It was a puzzle, the interplay between light and the dark forces, and he realized that he would need almost a clairvoyantâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s skill to separate them. It was like searching for a light switch in a darkened room, and Jake watched as the San Francisco fog loomed, swallowing up the dots of light until at the end there was nothing to see out of his window at all. Jake rubbed his eyes. He was tired, and went to bed. He let time slide over him, not thinking again about his new temporary work host. His last thought was, if I am being framed, it will be revealed. Then sleep robbed him kindly of any more reflections on the events at hand.

NATHAN AND FREDA HAMILTON’S HOUSE PALO ALTO, CALIFORNIA

The reddish-pink older-model Buick crunched to a halt with a lurch in the Hamilton’s driveway, and a disheveled man clambered out. He walked over to the passenger side door, opened it, and let out a curse as a sheaf of papers cascaded to the ground. He grimaced as he bent over to pick them up, and shoved the papers back into the passenger side floor well. Then he picked up a heavy battered briefcase, and walked to the front door. John Wiley was not tall, but what he lacked in height he made up for in cunning. His last name was befitting, and he had been practicing law for over twenty-five years. His career had been built up over the years by taking cases that were solid, resolutely fighting against injustice wherever he saw it prevail. He had a daunting success record, and he was pleased when his cases could bring down the Ungodly and make them pay. With the Hamilton’s he felt this case too was no exception. 13

John Wiley waited impatiently for the doorbell to be answered, finally Freda Hamilton came to the door. “Please come in,” she motioned him inside, “I have been helping Nathan. Today was a tough day for him.” “I totally understand,” he said, as he tried to get a better grasp on his briefcase, which had only one working clasp. The left side of his briefcase was secured with a bungee chord. Freda noticed this, and smiled, “We have to get you a new case, Mr. Wiley.” “That’s quite okay,” he joked, “this has been my lucky case. Bought it my first year out as a practicing attorney.” Freda ushered him into a cavernous and comfortable living room, and they sat and waited. The only sound was the ticking of a grandfather clock, which finally burst into sound. “You are right on time, Mr. Wiley, that you for coming out to visit. Nathan can’t get around much anymore, you know.” They turned as Nathan entered the room with a slow, shuffling gait. He held out a quivering hand. “Mr. Wiley,” he said matter-of-factly, “time is short for me, I want to make sure that I can look after Freda here, and 14

they want to take our house. We have lived here for over forty years, you know.” Nathan sat down with some difficulty. “I have complete kidney failure, Mr. Wiley. Three times a week I have to have dialysis. I was told I could miss one session, but if I missed the second session, I would not make it to the third.” “I am so sorry.” “What can you do, that’s life, I guess.” Nathan adjusted his tie. He was dressed in a suit. John Wiley held Nathan’s gaze. “I get dressed in a suit and tie everyday now, makes me feel that I have somewhere to go,” he said, as his voice trailed off. There was a deathly brown pallor to Nathan’s face, reflecting an almost already unnatural deathly hue. It was clear that Nathan was not long for this earthly world. “Nathan, Freda, in spite of what you may read in the papers, or on TV, we do prevail, and we can stop the foreclosures. I have been successful in doing this in my office, especially against banks like Trust Bank. They have been operating deliberately counter to the law, they were supposed

to immediately offer you when you contacted them that you were in trouble a loan modification, they didn’t do that, right?” “I don’t remember.” “When you first contacted Trust Bank – did they offer you a loan modification?” “Oh,” Nate wheezed, “when we first spoke to them, well, did they, Fe?” She shook her head. “Not at the beginning. They just told us that we needed to pay off the entire second, that was $100,000.00 just to cure the arrearages, and the attorney fees. Later.” “Later what,” John Wiley asked pointedly, “what did they tell you specifically?” “That we were qualified for a loan modification, provided that we send to them all of the documentation that could support our hardship claim.” “This was your second on your house.” “Yes,” Nathan responded softly, “we wanted the money to pay for Brandon’s education.” “Brandon?” 16

“Oh, our grandson, his picture is behind you.” John Wiley did not look. He placed his briefcase down in front of him, and undid the bungee chord, snapping back the right clasp, which caused the briefcase to spring open. He dug until he could find a yellow legal pad, extracting it from the mass of papers gingerly, and uncorking a pen top with his teeth. “I am going to make a few notes, okay.” Nathan and Freda nodded, watching John Wiley scribble with refreshed intensity, a smile of irrational delight crossing his lips. He ran a hand through unruly hair, reaching into a torn shirt pocket to extract his eyeglasses. He placed them carefully on his nose. The right temple arm was held together with a band-aid, which was precariously about to release its hold. “I suspected that what happened was improper,” Wiley continued, “but when I got your documentation,” he said softly, “this all confirmed it for me. How many times did you say that Trust Bank’s Loss Mitigation Department contacted you?”

“Oh,” Freda looked at Nathan, “about seven or eight times all in all. They said they could not get them.” “What?” “The documents, that they were all ‘messed up,’ or ‘too light.’ Needed to be constantly resubmitted, you know.” “What else?” “They needed additional paperwork, um, well, you know, proof that we were in fact using the money to actually pay for Brandon’s education.” “That is outrageous,” Wiley exploded, “what difference does it make what you use the money for? You legitimately got the loan, right? Same bank as your first?” “Mortgage?” “Yes. And we paid that off, didn’t we Nate?” Nate wheezed in affirmation, and in a voice brimming with anger and outrage, grunted, “We paid off the first, now they are foreclosing on the second, they wanted $110,000.00 by this morning, the whole thing, again they said, or they will force a sale next week Wednesday.”

“Look,” Wiley said with deliberate forcefulness in his voice, “when the banks took all that TARP money…” “Tarpaulin money?” “No, no, look you see what happened was that way back in ’09 the U. S. Treasury Secretary and the Director of the Federal Finance Agency announced the MHA Program.” “MHA?” Freda inquired. “Yes, it stands for Making Homes Affordable, which had two subprograms, the HARP and the HAMP programs.” “It all sounds so confusing.” “Well HAMP is the one of interest here, the Home Affordable Mortgage Program. The one the Federal Government gave about $75 billion, that’s with a ‘B’ to the banks.” “Seventy five billion dollars? What was supposed to happen?” “Well, simply speaking, if Trust Bank took money from this Troubles Asset Relief Program, or TARP, they were supposed to also fulfill their commitment under HAMP.”

“Wow, this is getting confusing,” Nathan whispered. “Well, under the Servicer Participation Agreement, or SPA, banks that took TARP money are also obligated to do certain things.” “Like what?” “Well, here are a few things. One they have to evaluate any loans that are over 60 days delinquent or more that appear to be in default. Two that if the loans met the HAMP guidelines the bank, or loan servicer, is required to collect the hardship information, which you submitted.” “Several times.” “Yes,” Wiley nodded, “I am aware of that. Anyway, there are two things the bank has to do. I spoke of them having to gather the financial information from you, and then secondly allow you a Trial Program.” “Trial program?” “What is called ‘Trial Period Plan.’ This means that if you successfully completed making the payments under the trial plan, then the bank is literally required under the law to allow you then to get a permanent modification of your loan. This did not happen in your case?” 20

“Not at all.” “Exactly. My point. The bank is required to under the HAMP guidelines to review you for what could be considered foreclosure alternatives.” “They just asked us for a lump sum of money all the time. You mean they should have allowed us a reduced payment plan?” “Yes, if you defaulted on that, well, then they could move to foreclosure. If you completed the trial payments they you had to get the permanent reduction and modification.” “Oh.” “Instead, they filed the NOD.” “The what?” “The Notice of Default, that letter that they would sell your house at a foreclosure sale.” Nathan started to cough and splutter. Freda got up and brought him a glass of water, and he sipped the water. Sometimes at times like these Wiley violently detested the human misery that he witnessed as part of his job. He felt

outraged that Trust Bank had taken such gratuitous abuse of the Hamiltons. “I am glad that you hitched your horse to my wagon, as it were, to use an analogy.” “What do you mean?” “You were taken advantage of. Trust Bank had to allow you a modification, as they had to allow all mortgagees who lived in their houses and faced a legitimate hardship. Not a lump sum payment, but offering a loan modification immediately when you said you were in trouble.” “Let’s tell it to the judge. The judge will understand, follow up in our favor.” “I am afraid it is not that simple.” “What do you mean?” “Judges have tons of stuff, cases, pleadings, briefs to read. They cannot physically read them all. They often defer to their clerks to give them tentative rulings, and they will follow them. Judges are not so keen to buck the status quo. So far, banks have a lot of legislative power behind them. Some of the

robo-signing stuff has made the judges a little more lenient, but still, the odds are stacked against you.” “Cannot be,” Nate whispered angrily, “there must be something that we can do.” “There is, there is, and meeting with me is part of that process. Many people wait, until it is too late I am afraid. You contacted me,” Wiley was trying to write and balance his yellow pad on his knee, “and I will be on top of this. I heard they hired Jake Morrison to head up their Litigation Department.” “Who?” Nate and Freda looked at one another. “Oh, Morrison, he is a guy that has a great reputation and a good deal of public trust. He is better known now as a writer, but he has a reputation for integrity that cannot be imputed. They brought him in to clean things up. I think they are now moving in the right direction. Goodness, look at the time, I have to be back at my office! Thank you both for meeting with me.” Wiley stood up, and the legal pad fell to the ground. He retrieved it, and tried to stuff it back in his briefcase. Finally, 23

frustrated, he stood on the case to allow the right corner clasp to catch, and scooped up the briefcase under his arm. “Don’t get up, Nathan, I will be back in contact soon.” John Wiley shook hands with Nathan and Freda, then marched towards the front door, and with a wave, was gone. There was no mistaking the honest bewilderment of the Hamiltons, Wiley thought as he drove through traffic back to his ramshackle office. They fitted into a familiar story. Although prohibited from “dual-tracking” -- Trust Bank made anemic efforts to comply with guidelines in working with the Hamiltons, at the same time as their Loss Mitigation Department, to which Jake Morrison had just been hired on to run, was taking active concrete steps to foreclose on their home. Many families had fallen into disaster by not being able to gleam the distinction between genuine help, and cold, hard, and tormenting convolutions of banks taking calculated advantage of unsuspecting folk. The Hamiltons should have potentially been more careful, Wiley reflected, not to have let the bank make a 24

sucker out of them. They would have to act more circumspectly the next time, but Wiley knew there would be no next time. He also knew that he had waited all his professional life for a sympathetic couple who came up short against a crooked corporate cosmogony, or at least that was they way it seemed. A jury could bestow sympathy, and punitive damages. What was Jake Morrison’s role in all of this, Wiley wondered. What was his precise place in this picture? There was a cacophony of questions that assailed him as he drove away from his client’s home. Time will tell, he thought, time will reveal the interplay of characters, and chance that joined them all together, in a drama where the clock of time was ticking loudly in the background. I had better get his deposition down, and soon, he thought, before Nathan’s time ground down with inexorable motion towards its final deplorable conclusion.

Chapter Two: The Blessing and the Curse

SAN FRANCISCO WHARF SUNDAY AFTERNOON 3:33 pm Jake was pleased to have the time off over the weekend, and contemplate the new consulting assignment that he had been given. He was able to reach Zara Jane at home. “Hi honey, I have decided to take this assignment. Looks like they want me to clean up the mess in the Bank’s Loss Mitigation Department, and it looks like I will need to be here a few days at least to get everything under wraps.” “Do they expect you to be up there for a while?” “No, not really,” Jake munched on some kettle corn, “I think just about a week is what I will need to go through the files and see what I am up against.”

“I was thinking, I can join you up there. I have to bring the bike up there to Joe to do the exhaust conversion work that is overdue, so it will give us a chance to spend some time together as well.” “You gonna drive the bike all the way up here?” “No, I was going to haul it up there in a rental, then if you like we can take a few days to drive the bike back down the coast again.” “I am not sure when this could wrap up, looks like they may go to trial on this one pretty soon. They are supposed to have a Trustee sale on the property on Wednesday, and I also want to depose the plaintiffs as well on this case, see if they are legit and all that.” “Okay, well let me know, Joe gave me an appointment for anytime this week. You remember that he has to replace the muffler and do the conversion thingy. Anyway, I don’t trust anyone except him. Maybe I will surprise you one day next week at the office.” “Hey, hun, you can surprise me anytime that you want to! I will be pulling in some crazy hours I am sure of that.” Jake hung up the call, and walked over the thick wooden beams of the wharf. He looked out over the ocean, and gave a silent prayer to his Guardian Angels that had brought an Angel like Zara Jane into his life. Jake spent a leisurely afternoon at the aquarium, marveling at the magnificent creatures in their underwater abode. He was ready for his new assignment.

TRUST BANK HEADQUARTERS LATE MONDAY MORNING

Baron was in a foul mood, and he beeped Jake to come into his office. When Jake walked in, he realized that the friendliness associated with his hire had suddenly and strangely worn off, and what emerged was a character that was bossy, ill-tempered, and a tyrant. “About fucking time that you got here!” Baron growled at Jake when he walked into his office. “Wow, so much for the ‘Good Morning,’ and how about a cup of coffee to start your day?” “I have no time for pleasantries.” “Apparently not,” Jake slouched in the chair in front on Baron. He wore jeans, a white shirt and a blue-striped tie, and he was relaxed and comfortable. “We have a professional dress code here. This is a bank.” “I am aware this is a bank. I have seen my workspace. I am buried so far down in the basement that you will need a search party and a team of Saint Bernard’s to find me. I am so far down in the bowels of the earth that I don’t even have consistent cell phone reception.” “He filed.” “He filed what? And who?” “That fucker Wiley. He filed a Lis Pendens against the property.” “You mean the Hamiltons?” “Yes, get with the program, the Hamiltons.”

“What makes you so mad at all of this. Looks like you are taking this very personally.” “I have to, it’s my job, I’m a professional. If Wiley wins, then we can have a legal precedent that will allow every bullshit claim to be litigated.” “Okay, what do you want me to do?” “Jake, I was not expecting that as an answer from you. You should know what to do. You have a reputation, you have law firm experience. You say you are a Chef, so we put you in the kitchen. That is where you are supposed to be and you are supposed to know what to do. I don’t expect you now to ask me where the pots and pans are!” Baron fidgeted in his seat, and his wheezy voice was lifted to a new screech. “Baron, look . . .” “No, you look! It cost us a lot of money to get you here. I stuck my neck to get you hired in the first place. Now it looks like you don’t have a goddamed clue as to what to do next. Well, let me tell you what to do next, get the goddamed Lis Pendens withdrawn, or is that too much for you to contemplate?” Jake stared at Baron, while a myriad thoughts crossed his mind, not the least of which was one where he envisioned hanging Baron off the edge of the window-washing scaffolding until he extracted a screaming apology from him. This was his first day on site at the new assignment, and Baron was surely going to test every single bone of his patience to straining point. I just have to make sure that it is not breaking point, Jake reminded himself. “We know that Wiley has to lift the Lis Pendens?”

“I fucking know that, you know that, so make it happen!” Baron peered over his spectacles. “What are you waiting for?” Jake peeled himself slowly off the chair, and wondered whether the fates had a uniquely bitter sense of humor to have placed him in his current situation, with Baron as his current boss. Since there had been a news wire that Jake had joined the firm, he thought it would be inopportune to leave after just a few hours on the job, or at least until the five-days required to make sure that the funds that he had deposited were at least good. One thing for sure, Baron was testing him. It was jealousy, Jake concluded, he always seem to attract those that, given half a chance, wanted to make Jake humbled in some manner or fashion, for whatever reason. “I will call Wiley. I am sure that he will be slow in acting . . .” “It is you that is slow in acting,” Baron wheezed as he tapped his wristwatch, “time is ticking.” Jake thought, time is also ticking before when I will take great personal delight in strangling this man. But that day would have to wait. He rode the elevator down into the cavernous, musty bunker, where all the bank file records were kept. At the end of a dimly lit row of file cabinets, sat his new desk. Piled on high were a stack of documents, from the Hamilton case, and others. Jake could not use his cell phone, so he dialed the operator and asked to have a call placed to John Wiley. Jake was able to speak to his secretary, and found out that Wiley must be the only lawyer in San Francisco, maybe in the entire United States, that did not possess a cell phone. “How can I reach him then?” he asked his secretary exasperated.

“I will give him the message. He was at the County Recorder’s Office. I am sure that he will be heading back to the office. He can call you shortly.” “Yes,” Jake waved the document in front of him, “I got the Lis Pendens that he filed by fax.” “The Trustee’s sale set for Wednesday will have to be discontinued.” “I know. I know. I need to speak to John . . .” “Does Mr. Wiley know you?” “No, he does not, except by reputation, I guess.” Jake looked around the musty chamber, and wondered. If I was supposed to “clean up the schmutz” in the Department, there is no-one here even. God, I think I am the only living thing down here. Just then a mouse slithered across the hall. Okay God, second living thing . . . Jake left his number with Wiley’s secretary, and then the realization hit. He had only been hired to lend his reputation to the Bank in its public relations efforts, and he had been assigned the worst job under the worst manager imaginable. I must have done something to Baron in a past life he mused, I must have killed him, and he brought me here to extract his revenge for that act. But believe me, I think he will meet the same end from me in this lifetime. . . The red light on his phone started to flash, and he hit the speaker phone button. “Loss Mitigation Department . . .” Jake said with intended sarcasm. “Did you reach him?” Baron’s voice crackled. “Whom?” Jake pretended. “Goddamed Wiley! Did you speak with him?” “He does not have a cell phone.”

“Who doesn’t?” “Wiley.” “Who told you?” “His secretary.” “Where the fuck is he?” “At the County Recorders Office . . .” Baron exploded into a bunch of epithets that would have caused a sailor to blush and hold his ears. Jake sighed and waited for Baron to complete his diatribe. “We have to lift the sale . . . for now.” “Those are scammers, Jake, and now he has snookered you. You are fucked. You played into his hands. We hired you to be the chef, I think you can’t even find a spatula in the kitchen down there.” Jake counted quietly to ten to allow his anger to dissipate. “There’s no fucking spatula down here. In fact there’s no fucking kitchen either.” “What did you say?” “Spatula. This kitchen is empty. No cooks. No waiters. There is no staff down here. What kind of department is this? You call it the Loss Mitigation Department? There’s not a soul down here.” “We hire interns.” “What? What did you say?” “Interns, you have not heard of ‘interns’ before?” “Interns? That’s your Loss Mitigation Department? When do they come in?” “I don’t know, I don’t have their schedule.”

“Who does?” “Mary.” “I never saw anyone here.” “She’s out sick.” “What do you pay them?” “Whom? The interns?” “Yes, the interns. What do you pay them?” “What do you care?” “I care. I care deeply.” “Why?” “Because you made me in charge of them! That’s why I care.” “We buy them lunch!” “How many?” “One meal a day.” “That was not my question. How many interns are there?” “Heck, I don’t know.” “So you are telling me that you hired interns to run the Loss Mitigation Department, to work on all the files down here. There must be literally thousands of files down here.” “So?” Jake sank down onto his threadbare office chair, and ran his hands wearily through his hair. “Listen, I have to go, I think Wiley is calling me back.”

“Let me know what that fucker says.” Baron’s line went dead. The overhead strobe light flickered, then went out, bathing the room is semidarkness. If there is a God, and Jake firmly believed that there was one, he was sure He was chuckling at him right now. I know God, he thought, there is a reason for me being there, and just as soon as I can find out what that reason is, I will leave, okay . . .

DOWNTOWN SAN FRANCISCO WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON A motorcycle pulled up to the Trust Bank building with a smooth glide, and the leather-jacketed rider smoothly alighted, removing her helmet in one smooth motion. A cascade of long black hair emerged, and she shook her head, as she placed the helmet on the handlebars. She was dressed in a white shirt, blue jeans, and scuffed leather boots. Zara Jane walked into the entrance of the bank building, and asked the security desk officer where Jake Morrison could be found. He shrugged apathetically. When she asked for the Loss Mitigation Department, the same blank stare and shrug greeted her. Finally, the guard patched her through to Robert Baron, and he got on the phone. “Yes, who is this?” “This is Zara Jane. I am trying to find Jake. Jake Morrison. I am his girlfriend.” “Yes, yes,” Baron’s voice crackled over the intercom, “have the guard take you the basement. Jake should be working down there. Better be.” The guard look bemused, and seemed unhappy to leave his post, but he shuffled over to the elevator, and when the doors opened noiselessly, placed his card key into the slot. “There,” he said satisfied, “it will take you to the basement.”

Zara Jane rode the elevator down, until the doors opened into the dank humungous file storage area. She was surprised at the place that Jake had now found himself in, down in the depths of what seemed like work-hell. “Jake?” she called out to him. “Honey, is that you?” Jake peered from behind his desk stacked with papers, buried behind a wall of file folders. Zara Jane walked over to his desk, and smiled, “Wow, when I thought you would be working in the Executive Offices in San Francisco, I had no idea that you would be working in the lap of luxury! Plush office there, Jake, way to go!” “Very funny, honey. I was placed here by Baron. There is no staff here either. Can you imagine, all the so-called work was done here by interns?” He spat out the word again for effect, “Interns!” “Can I buy you a cup of coffee and a dime for your thoughts, although I have a pretty good idea what you’re gonna say!” The phone rang. Jake picked it up, and recognized the familiar voice of Baron. “Yes, she is here, she found me. We are stepping out for coffee.” “What about the work deadlines?” “For Gods sake, Baron, I am keeping on track with things. I gotta go.” He hung up the phone, then looked at Zara Jane, “I swear he is working on that very last nerve of mine. I am ready to quit!” She gave him a reassuring kiss on the lips. “I did not drive a million miles to hear you complain.”

Jake smiled, and hugged her. “Sorry, honey, but this assignment is hellacious. Nothing what I thought it would be when I took it on.” “I know. Lets go and get some caffeine, and some sunshine.” They stepped out into the San Francisco afternoon, and there was a slight chill in the wind. Zara Jane put on her aviator sunglasses, and took Jake’s arm. He squinted into the sun. “Wow, I have been in the bowels of the earth so long I forgot what the sun even looks like! It’s black when I go to work, and black when I leave. I am outta here!” They found a place to order a chilled coffee, and walked arm in arm along the wood-beamed wharf. They came up to a bench, and sat down. “I wouldn’t quit Jake! You are there for a reason. When you find out what that reason is, why you were brought there, then you can quit. You will then have accomplished something very powerful and very useful.” “What do you think that might be, my love? It could be murder. I swear that guy Baron is almost goading me to rip his head off – I swear I have never worked for a guy like that before. He thinks he can whip people that work for him, like we are oxen!” She took a swig of the chilled brew, then brought her sunglasses a little ways down her nose, her yellow-brown eyes flashing as she talked. “The Universe works in mysterious ways, Jake. It is all quantum physics. The energy that goes out into the ether, the energy that comes back, changed through that experience. There is something underhanded at the Bank, Jake, that was one of the reasons that I wanted to come up now to tell you personally. I just feel it. You have to find out what is going on. Baron seems revolting, but he’s a distraction, don’t you agree?”

“I agree. I think the louder he yells, the more he wants me not to see something that is going on. I feel its shady. Under my nose, behind my back, he is up to something, if you know what I mean?” “I do too. I will take the bike over to Joe the mechanic this afternoon. Then we can have dinner together. I can feel your tension, just take it easy, honey. It will all be revealed in due course.” “I don’t understand why Baron is so focused on this one case -- the Hamiltons. He is so sure there is some subterfuge there, I dunno why. All I can say is that there is no staff here, and I have been basically cast into the dungeon. This is scary stuff, I gave him permission to place in the legal journals announcing my working here, and now look, it’s a complete ruse, and I can’t even leave!” “Didn’t you know this when they hired you? Didn’t you see where you’d be working?” “That’s just it. He gave me a big check and I just assumed I would be working out of some nice spacious office. I mean there are a million offices in the building, it never occurred to me that I would be holed up in a musty basement!” “Can’t you take the files upstairs?” “I could, maybe then the broom closet for me! But I would have to travel up and down the elevator all day long, to get this paper or that one. I don’t know, I feel such a fool for taking this assignment.” “Relax, babe, it can’t be that bad.”

“Trust me, honey, it is worse than you can imagine! I mean he’s calling me literally twenty-times an hour. I think he is making up for something that I did to him in a past life.” “Like what?” “I think I killed him then, or married his sister! I guess he never forgave me for that. He is the most vile individual that I have ever had the displeasure of working for. I mean I only knew the guy well enough to nod at him in the elevator at the old firm, and now this?” They got up and walked back to the Bank building, Jake looked at his watch. “I will see you later honey, you good?” “Yep, couldn’t be better since seeing you!” “You’re so sweet.” “Well, you bring that out in me. See you later, love.” Jake took a last swig of coffee, throwing the empty cup in the trash can, and hurried into the building. When he arrived at his desk again, the red beeping light indicated messages. Jake was sure who they were from. He was right. He called Baron’s extension. “About time!” “Look, Baron, I need an office, I need to spread my files out. I can’t work out of the basement all day and night long.” Baron was quick to chide him, “I called you about twenty minutes ago. I know your girlfriend is hot but you have work to do. What do you think, this is another day on the beach? Crack open the beers?”

“What do you mean, ‘you know she’s hot?’” “I saw her on camera at the sign-in desk. You have to keep your mind focused on the job, Jake, there is a lot at play and at stake here.” Jake gritted his teeth, and looked up at the ceiling. God, he thought, if you are trying to test me, you are doing a wonderful job. Jake let Baron rant, then replaced the receiver. The phone rang again, and Jake angrily breathed into the phone, “What the hell do you want now?” “That’s no way to speak to opposing counsel. I thought you were there to put a new positive spin on things at the Bank, Jake.” “Who is this?” “Wiley, John Wiley. You called me. I know that the Hamilton’s sale date has been postponed. I see that you put in a request to take my client’s depo. We can set it for Friday, if you like, after his dialysis treatment?” “Yeah, whatever you say, John. That works for my client the Bank.” “It will have to be at their house, you know, he can’t travel.” “C’mon, John, this will cost us double to get a court reporter to travel to their house. Are you sure your client cannot travel?” “Trust me, Jake. He can’t. I am trying to be as accommodating as I can, but as soon as he gets tired, we stop. That’s it, I will not have you take some a long, drawn-out depo. One shot, that’s it, not dragging out over days, either. The guy can barely breathe, so my rules!” “Whatever you say, John, whatever you say. What time?” “Eleven.”

“Done deal.” Jake entered the information in his phone’s electronic calendar. Then his desk phone rang. “Yes Baron.” “How did you know it was me?” “I don’t know, a little birdie told me. What do you want?” “I heard that Wiley put a call into you.” “Don’t you have other things to work on?” “Nope, you’re it! Have to make sure our investment in you pays off.” “Investment?” “C’mon, Jake, you didn’t come in free, you came in expensive.” “You offered it, remember?” “I’m not complaining. The depo is set for eleven, Friday.” “Good. Watch out for those tricksters. Drill the guy about whey they kept fucking up the paperwork they sent in. And we have to draft the Answer to their First Amended complaint that stopped the sale. It’s all bogus.” “When do you want to do that?” Jake signed. “Come up to my office after eight tonight.” “After eight o’ clock? Zara Jane is in town and I promised her we’d have dinner together tonight . . .” “Too bad, man, call her up and tell her you will need to find another time for her companionship.” The line then went dead. Jake looked at his watch, it was three-thirty in the afternoon. This was becoming a forbidding assignment, and Jake gritted his teeth in displeasure. If there was a reason that

he was here, it was not going to fun to find out, and Baron was making his life there about as uncomfortable as he possibly could -- the dingy work site, the incessant calls, the pressure. Then the security guard shuffled in. “They found you an office,” he announced, “Baron told me you may need some help with the files.” “Yeah, thanks man,” Jake looked at the guard, “is it spacious?” “What?” “The office where I’m going to?” “Lester.” “Hi Lester, I am Jake. You didn’t answer my question. Is the office big?” “Well, I don’t think either word, ‘big’ or ‘spacious,’ really works in this case.” Jake pulled a batch of files that he could carry, then handed more files over to Lester, and they travelled up the elevator to the rooftop. They walked down a long hallway, arriving at a small alcove with a single wooden desk and a rickety chair. Jake dropped the files on the desk, and they shuffled off onto the floor. He did not bother to pick them up. “You gotta be kidding!” Jake looked about the cramped quarters. “Drop the files on the chair, Lester, I see what you mean about the ‘office’ not being big.” Jake realized that when you pulled the chair back, there was barely enough room to clamber into the seat behind the desk. It was like getting into an expensive Italian sports car. Once again it seemed that Baron had spared no vindictive edge in dealing with him, and Jake was beginning to draw a long vendetta’s list of grievances at his treatment. It was obvious that there was no end to the insults that Baron would fling at him, and this

was becoming painfully clear. He opened the window, which could only open a crack, disturbing a couple of pigeons basking in the afternoon sun. It had dawned on Jake belatedly that he had been tricked, blinded by the proffered compensation into thinking that he might have actually been brought in for his superlative written work product and reputation for integrity, and that he would be given charge of “cleaning out the department” of its bad apples. Since there were only interns working in the department, and he had not seen one line one yet, the enticement of a paid lunch might have not been enough to guarantee their return. It looked like there were no apples left in the basket. Jake wondered about how long Baron must have been planning his arrival, and it’s ambush. All the details had been calculatingly and carefully thought out. Lester shuffled back to his duties, and Jake struggled to pull the chair back far enough so that with his long legs he could gain access to a perch behind his desk. He finally gave up, and sat on the desk instead. “Honey, change of plan.”

He called Zara Jane from his rooftop perch with the

pigeons. At least here there was better cell phone reception. “I know, babe, somehow I was expecting this.” “Me to. Baron scheduled a meeting with me at eight-o-clock tonight! I have no idea now when I will get out.” “Honey, are you on your cell?” “Yes, why?” “Your office phones are bugged.” “How do you . . . oh, I forgot whom I am dealing with, my little Angel.”

“Yes, anything you say on the phones will be recorded and listened to, any personal emails will be opened if you access your email through their server.” “I don’t have a computer here. Just the old one downstairs. I wanted to quit. You said stay, so I will submit to this torture with the utmost docility.” “Better, for now. Be humble. It doesn’t help to fight your circumstances. Just be watchful, and I will watch for you when you get back. I will go out with Mattie and Jan tonight. We’ll miss you at the dinner table.” Jake thought about his angelic messenger, and decided that once again her logic trumped his. She had the power of clairvoyant thought that could uncover hidden truths, and she was at the zenith of her powers. Without wasting an instant of time she had the capacity to, with lightening-bolt accuracy, examine a situation, and seize its revealed as well as hidden aspects. She never said she had psychic abilities, but Zara Jane possessed an out-of-this-world ability to be guided to perceptions that oftentimes Jake would never in his wildest dreams have imagined could be true, only they would later be proved as such. He liked to think he brought logical legal thought to the fore, but she brought an undercurrent of wisdom and subtle understanding that made Jake realize he needed to tame his unabashed brashness over the pitiful circumstances of his soon-to-be short-term assignment. Jake thought it best not to complain to Zara Jane about what was likely to be the purely transitory nature of his present-day work discomforts with Baron and the Bank. She had the intellectual capacity to in a mere fragment of a second marshal and exhaust an understanding of the matter at hand, evaluating every possibility, including those bethought hidden and clouded from view. Inevitably, the light of her intuition gave

her uncomfortably good odds that any subterfuge at work would be penetrated, and revealed, and she was masterful in her ability to serve as a tutor and guide, smoothing the way for Jake. He in turn had a growing compunction to remove himself from the mundane complement that luck did not bring him into situations, without the reason that his very presence there was required. His being there could in turn also provide the possibility, seemingly by random chance, to provide a means of righting the wrong in the situation at hand. Jake did not believe that he was arrogant in believing this, instead coming down on the side of the perception that it would be arrogant of him not to believe that he had been brought into this situation with some purpose. The fact that he did not know why he was brought in, was merely of secondary importance. He believed firmly that in some strange way fate had singled him out to help deliver a message, or provide some help of some kind or other. Fortune always seemed to smile upon him in the unlikeliest of circumstances, and when he least expected it. It was not until after ten-thirty before Jake made his way back to the hotel suite. Zara Jane was already asleep, and he did his best not to wake her. Still, I should have had my head examined, Jake thought, to have taken this assignment without finding out more details. Then his head floated down onto the pillow, and sleep came quickly and thankfully. He was mentally and physically exhausted.

THE HAMILTONâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S HOUSE FRIDAY MORNING THE DEPOSITION 11H30 am

John Wiley paced furiously across the large oriental rug in the living room. “Where is she?” he exploded. “I don’t know,” Jake admitted truthfully, “the court reporter was given the correct address.” “It’s eleven-thirty!” “I know. I can call her service again if it makes you happy?” “Well,” Wiley growled at him, “you just shaved off another half-an-hour of deposition time by your antics.” “My antics? What did I do, slash a hole in her car tires? Disconnect her alarm clock? Did I give her the wrong address?” Nathan was still in the other room completing the dialysis with the nurse. “Okay. We wait.” The only sound was the ticking of the grandfather clock resolutely in the background. “I am sorry I doubted you.” Jake said after some moments, catching Wiley off guard. Wiley looked closely at Jake, then realizing that his legal sparing opponent had the greenest eyes that he’d ever seen. They had a languid look to them, like a lizard basking in the sun, but Jake realized there was a very fast-working mind working behind them. “About what?” “Your client’s condition. My client, well, the Bank, they seemed to have this thing about ‘scammers’ on loans. But from what I can see now this is the very opposite of what is going on here.”

Wiley kept his gaze on Jake, not saying anything. Prudence would have dictated that Jake not reveal such confidences to Wiley, but Jake’s enthusiasm for his current assignment had waned significantly in the few days since he had been assigned to the case. Integrity was a very powerful and cogent driving force in Jake’s professional persona, and he did not like being lied to. He was having an uncomfortably hard time under Baron’s wilting obsession and hard-boiled obstinacy in wanting to go to trial, and in figuring out all the inordinate number of ways that he could belittle him and make his working life a misery. “How’d they get ya into this?” Wiley finally asked. “Money,” Jake said matter-of-factly. “Enough to come after my clients for?” “Look, John,” Jake said stiffly, “I was told I would be hired to be the chef, and direct the waitresses, and waiters, and cook, as it were. Then I come to find out that there’s no staff, and the kitchen is about as stone cold dead and empty as you can get.” “Really?” “Yes, really! Trust me.” “Humph,” Wiley laughed sarcastically, “Trust you? Or trust Trust Bank? Which is it to be?” he said sarcastically. “Hey, I can’t make you trust me. We are adversaries in this. But sometimes one finds the nastiest things when one looks to find the truth of a situation, and I hate to be part of any infliction of misery on a path that I never really chose to take.” Wiley studied Jake for a while. “You are a different man than I imagined,” he said at length.

“How so, what did you imagine?” “A company man rooted and driven, caring only about the dollars, the bottom line. The Bank made a million promises, Jake, then turned on their word, trampling a lot of innocent people like the Hamiltons into the dust . . .” It was then that the doorbell rang, and Jake sprang to let the court reporter in, thankful for the distraction. The reporter apologized profusely for her tardiness. “They did not give me the right directions, then my cell phone went out . . .” Finally, she set up her equipment laboriously. Jake sat across from a wheezing Nathan, who was stressed beyond belief. Large sweat beads formed on his brow, and sweat poured from the pores under his armpits. The deposition got underway after the usual cautionary advisements. Jake then asked questions specific to the Bank’s Loan Modification Department’s actions in promising a reduction, and also what if any contact Nathan had had with the Loss Mitigation Department that was in charge of calling in the loan. Jake could see that Nathan was struggling, and Freda had been excused from the room. She would have her deposition taken at a future time. “I don’t remember” and “I cannot say” seemed to be the two most frequently reported statements that Nathan repeated, almost blindly, and Jake felt genuine sympathy. “I am not asking you to guess. Just tell me to the best of your recollection what happened. I know that this is a very stressful undertaking, and I really do not mean to make it any more unpleasant than I am sure it already is.” Wiley looked at Jake from across the room with studied intensity. He was not taking anything to chance. Yet Jake also did not like the position that he had been placed

in, and watching Nathan struggle with what seemed like futile rebellion against destiny -his illness that robbed him of his dignity, and the Bank’s actions in the potential loss of his home. These were crushing weights under which Nathan now squirmed uncomfortably. “I do not,” Jake said softly and deliberately, “want for you to do anything more than tell me what happened. In your own words, as fully and as accurately as possible.” Wiley interjected, “He has already done this on a number of occasions, Counsel. Your questions have been asked, and answered!” Nathan feebly raised his hand, then let it drop limply by his side, clearly exhausted by his ordeal. “That’s enough,” Wiley announced, “he has had all of the abuse that he can muster. This deposition is over! Over, I tell you!” He bent over Nathan, “Are you okay?” Wiley then looked at Jake with his emerald-green eyes flashing with intensely, but Jake made no attempt to escape their penetration. “I thank you for the time that you have afforded me. Thank you again. Counsel, we can have a copy of the transcript available to you, so that your client can read it, and make any changes that he may choose to.” It was standard operating procedure, but Wiley sensed that Jake’s heart was not in it. He followed Jake out into the hallway. “Can we speak off the record?” “I can if you can.” “What’s up with you? I don’t understand you?” “I am an open book, really.”

“Meaning?” “I got suspicions that there was some dirty business here, or that at least that is what I now suspect on my side of the fence.” “Really? So, you’re afraid to get involved?” “On the contrary, I am already involved.” “And?” “It’s not that simple. In a way I hoped it was not true.” “That what, my clients were living the high life? That the bank was doing the right thing? You have a fucked up sense of justice.” The point scored home, and Jake braced. “Look, I can’t expect you to understand.” His flinching gave clear sign that he could no longer revert to pretense. “I can try.” “John, I have suspicions about things I cannot yet prove.” “I need help, and you can give it. I want to save my client’s home. I have to, under their circumstances, if you know what I mean?” Jake nodded. “For a few days now I have been scared to admit that what I saw was just plain wrong, the assimilation of greed into this ‘dual-tracking’ that seemed to sweep logic under the rug. The Bank promises a modification out of one side of its mouth, then moves to foreclose out of the other. John, look I agree. I agree that your client’s were wronged, but I can’t prove it yet in anything I have seen.” “But you saw the paperwork they submitted.” “Sure I did, and the files are a genuine mess as the Bank claimed they were. Places where there should have been a signature there was none, and then a signature

where there was not supposed to be one, like on blank pages that were notarized. But if we are right, then, well, it may be a different matter.” Jake slipped in the “we” with studied effortlessness, and Wiley caught on instantly as Jake hoped he would. “Then, counsel? ‘We’ what?” “We may be able to come to some kind of settlement that will help your client’s in their current predicament.” Jake was careful not to include his client in that sweeping statement. “It may be the start of a new life for them, such that may still be allowed them by the grace of God, and time.” Wiley extended his hand, which Jake shook. When Jake left, Wiley walked up to Nathan, who sat wheezing in the chair with his eyes closed. Nathan opened one eye quizzically as Wiley approached. “I think Jake Morrison is just the guy we needed to be up against us on this one! In fact, I think he’s been sent directly from heaven.” “Really?” Nathan struggled to sit up. “Yes, I do. It’s just a feeling, but its growing. I don’t think he is cut of the same cloth as the Bank’s hit-men. I don’t think he will abide by anything dishonest going on.” “Why do you think?” “Because he doesn’t need the money they are paying him, I guess, and that his reputation ultimately means more to him than money alone.” “That’s it?” “I don’t know, I will be talking to him again I am sure. When we know a little more what is going on in his mind, we will have a lot more answers about what the Bank

is likely to do. But so far I have the feeling he came in looking for one thing, and came away finding something completely different.” “Like what?” Nathan spluttered. “Like being the hero for the Bank means that if he goes after us for their motives, they will have traded in his integrity for a lack of theirs.” Nathan stared back at Wiley blankly. “So what do we next?” “Dunno. We’ll see him in court!”

Chapter Three: Prayer for Relief

SAN FRANCISCO SUPERIOR COURT MONDAY MORNING 8:33 am

Wiley stood up and slowly approached the jurors. He spoke calmly, with deliberate determination. “Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for your contribution in time and duty to this matter. I know, that the Bank will, through their counsel Mr. Morrison, attempt to portray my clients as having overextended themselves, and took advantage of a loan that they will claim they took out and could not repay. However, the Bank was in fact bound by the laws of the land to extend a trial modification of the loan, and if the payments were made, then make them final. This never happened.” Wiley strolled forward, and reached the wooden bench rail, “What the Bank did, you will see from the paperwork provided, is in fact lull the plaintiffs Nathan and Freda

Hamilton into a false sense of security. By asking for the paperwork, multiple times, the Bank in fact made the Plaintiffs believe that there was a light at the end of their tunnel.” He shook his head, “But what awaited the Hamiltons at the end of the tunnel was a foreclosure, that they did their best to try and fend off. The only reason that the Bank was not able to take possession of their home was due to the filing of this court action.” Wiley pointed at Jake, who watched him with studied reserve. “Mr. Morrison there, on behalf of the Bank, will try and claim that there were multiple problems with the paperwork as submitted, and as such the paperwork caused the Bank to take the actions that they did. I believe that the evidence will show that the Bank in fact engaged in ‘dualtracking,’ which means at the same time as they were in fact pretending that a loan modification was in fact possible, asking for financial paperwork, they also resolutely and without let-up followed the path to foreclosure. This was not a question of the left hand, the Loss Mitigation Department, not knowing what the right hand, the Loan Modification Department, were doing. We believe that the Bank’s left and right hands were in fact joined in concert in a merciless process of deception to take the Hamilton’s home away from them!” Baron leaned over to Jake, and wheezed into his ear, “He doesn’t have a shred of evidence of that, now does he?” Jake leaned back, “I told you that a settlement was the wisest choice in this matter, and I gave you that recommendation in writing.” Baron hissed at Jake, “I read your so-called proposal, and I nixed it. That is why we’re in trial.”

Jake shook his head, and took notes on his yellow pad with his black-and-silver fountain pen. Nothing about this assignment had gone the way he expected it to. Wiley was continuing his opening statements, “This action today is a prime example of Trust Bank, and its employee’s wrongful and illegal conduct, unstoppable in their greed for property and fees, without any regard to the rights of homeowners and borrowers.” He shot a look at each juror languidly, “What makes their actions in this case all the more reprehensible is the fact that they did this to a couple, advanced in years, and where Mr. Nathan Hamilton has a terminal illness that the Bank knew of. They played on his weakness, his frailty, and his belief that the Bank was helping them at the same time as they were moving, not to slip the rug from under them, but take away the home they lived in for the past forty plus years.” A juror wiped a tear from her eyes with a handkerchief. One thing about Wiley, he was an effective presenter, Jake thought, and the sympathy coefficient rested heavily on his side. “It was in fact the Bank that caused the Plaintiffs to be in the financial distress they are in. How you ask and wonder? Simple. The Bank refused to take the payments that the Hamilton’s offered them, causing them to be in default! Yes, you see, it was not the $100,000.00 loan that this Bank was eyeing,” Wiley shook his head, “But the almost one million dollars in equity in the house that they wanted. Since they controlled the second, that was recorded against the Hamilton’s home, that was what the Bank wanted, and the reason why they refused to allow the Hamilton’s to be given a loan modification

that would have allowed them to not only to make their loan payments, but keep their house that they worked a lifetime to afford!” Wiley was quiet for a moment, then resumed his withering attack. “As a direct and proximate result of Trust Bank’s actions,” he intoned, “the Plaintiffs suffered, and continue to suffer to a measure that money damages alone may never be enough to repay. How can they be compensated? The gravamen of the wrongdoing we are talking about here is the illegal seizure of a person’s home! That is torture. That causes anxiety. That causes depression. That caused extreme emotional distress.” Wiley banged his fist on the rail. “That is the irreparable harm!” Wiley stopped, then mopped his brow. “For this, for all of this, I am going to ask you that you send a special message to this Defendant. You make them pay, in big dollars. You punish them, and in so doing deter them from acting in a similar manner. You have the power to make sure that they never engage in such despicable conduct ever again!” The juror sobbed into her handkerchief again. Wiley walked back to his seat. He undid his coat jacket pocket button, and sat down. He nodded at Jake. The juror was still sobbing in the background. Wiley, the master, was at work. It was now Jake’s turn, and he stood up unhurriedly. He glanced at Zara Jane, who was sitting in the audience. She gave him a wink, which he acknowledged back surreptitiously. He knew he had a daunting task of convincing an already-swayed jury, back over to his side for the Bank. Jake walked slowly over to the jurors, and nodded. “It is true that unfortunately, Mr. Hamilton is ill. Not just ill, but terminally ill. It is sad, it is unfortunate, but it is also

a sad fact of life. We,” Jake waved a wand towards the men and women sitting in front of him, “will all someday have to face our fate. We may not know what that end might be, or when. For some of us, it may be quick – a heart attack, perhaps mercifully in our sleep. For others among us, a motorbike accident. For others among us it may be some slow, debilitating illness. It is a sad fact of life that with it comes pain, and heartache. Yes, even disease, and much discomfort.” He stopped contemplatively. “I really don’t mean to distress you.” He paced before the jury. “I say this only because the Plaintiffs will make much of the fact that Mr. Hamilton requires dialysis to keep him alive. But let his illness not in any way discolor the Bank, its actions, and the loan it provided.” Jake took off his jacket, walking over to place it on the chair at the Defendant’s table, loosening his tie as he walked back. He wanted subliminally to make the jurors feel more comfortable with him. “The Bank, Trust Bank, was both lender, and servicer, of this loan that the Hamilton’s took out for over $100,000.00 with fees. The Bank has a duty, with all the loans that its provides and attendant services, to exercise reasonable care in maintaining the proper loan records, keep the appropriate accounting procedures in place, and maintain accurate loan records. Trust Bank did not go out of its was to mislead the Plaintiffs, nor did it fail to disclose what was going on with the loan, and the actions that it might be forced to follow if the loan was not repaid when and how according to the terms of the contract that the Hamilton’s signed and agreed to, when the Bank gave them one hundred thousand dollars as they requested.” He loosened his top shirt button, and began rolling up his sleeves. First the left, then the right. It was a classy strip act, and he loved to be back in front of a jury again. It

had been a while, and he forgot the energy rush it gave him. Matching his wits against Wiley’s, twelve pliable minds in the jury box to sway. “Unfortunately, one of the more unpleasant tasks that a Bank also has,” he looked up from his sleeve rolling, “is to foreclose on a non-performing loan. In plain nonlawyer-speak-English, that means recalling the loan. And that sometimes means calling in the the asset against which the loan was guaranteed.” He waited for that point to hit home, then continued, “While the Bank is and was not heartless and insensitive to Mr. Hamilton’s illness, it also could not be swayed by it. The Bank, Trust Bank, you will find, did not do anything that was outside of the law, nor did it do anything that surpassed the legal authority available to it with regard to the Plaintiffs loan account. There was no conspiracy here, no subterfuge. The Bank did work with the Plaintiffs, until, unfortunately in this case, all their legal options were exhausted. Thank you for listening.” Jake went back and sat at his desk. It felt uncomfortably warm in the courtroom, as if someone had turned off the air conditioning.

TRUST BANK EXECUTIVE OFFICES FRIDAY AFTERNOON

In their strategy session, Jake outlined his feelings about taking the case to trial to his boss Baron. “I think that the Bank should settle its cases before trial, especially this case.”

“No way, matey, we soldier on.” “Baron, look, we’ve had our differences, but as far as this case is concerned, I cannot think of any possible advantages in going to trial, in fact there are only disadvantages.” “Jake, these guys win, and it opens the door to every scammer out there who took a loan that they could not repay. In their Complaint, in their Prayer for Relief, they are asking for the sun and the moon. They even ask,” he stopped, and flipped through papers on his desk. He plucked out a document, then dropped it open to the last page, “here,” he pointed, “in their Prayer for Relief, you read it aloud, man.” He handed the document to Jake, who read the paragraph Baron highlighted, “Pursuant to Business and Professions Code Section 17200, that the Defendant, Trust Bank, their successors, agents, representatives, employees, and all persons who act in concert with them be permanently enjoined from committing any such acts of unfair competition in violation of Section 17200, including, but not limited to, the violations alleged herein.” Jake looked up at Baron, then continued, “and be enjoined from continuing in such practices pursuant to California Business and Professions Code Sections 17203 and 17204.” “Now I ask you Jake, they want to enjoin us from being able to do business. We can’t foreclose on a property ever again? Are they out of their minds? Which judge is going to sanction that Prayer for Relief my ass!” “Baron, its just that by settling you prevent the Plaintiffs from getting a punitive judgment award that is a possibility, if conduct comes to light that shows up the Bank in a bad light.”

“Like what?” “Look, Baron, I don’t know what all was going on here back then. What actions the Bank took.” “What are you insinuating, man?” “I am not insinuating anything. Look, the fact that you had interns running the place does not make it look like a very professional operation.” “Whose side are you on anyway, man?” “It is not that I am playing sides, I am just being realistic.” “Well, we played by the book.” “Which book was that?” “The Codes and Statutes book. The law, man.” “And if you did not?” “Man, we did not ‘did not.’ Concentrate on the matter at hand. Move forward in the manner in which I am instructing you. This strategy session is not about your opinion! I am not asking what you think, or even to think. Do what you are told.” “Okay, I will, I don’t need be reminded again how much money you are paying me for all of this seat warming,” Jake said with sarcasm intended. “Right, I know. I still get flack for my generous offer to you.” “I am sure that the ‘flak’ and the ‘generous offer’ are both exaggerations.” “Okay, I need a draft of your Opening Arguments on my desk before the end of the day today.” “I thought you did not care about my opinion?” “Humor me.”

“Tomorrow is Saturday.” “So? I come in Saturdays. So should you.” “Not likely, your offer was okay, not overly generous, and my girl is in town.” “So how does that affect me? This case comes first.” “It does not, but I need to spend time with her. We are taking a drive out of town. This case with be foremost in my mind at all times, believe me.” “With you its all play. When do you get the work in?” “Its the speed of mind that counts, not the length of its toil, Baron,” Jake said, as he stood up, and walked out of the office. “I’ll have the report due you.” “Good, time marches on.” As Jake travelled down the elevator, he felt tainted by his association with the Baron and the Bank. The condescending attitude, for one thing, and the fact that he still felt there was something deliberately being hidden from his view. He wanted to take the drive for some mental relaxation, but also to talk the matter over with Zara Jane on their drive. He wanted the benefit of her razor-sharp intuition, and penetrating sleuth-like vision. He also knew that he could bullet-point his opening arguments in a matter of minutes, drop them on Baron’s desk, and leave before the sun sets. It was with much satisfaction that he dropped his report on Baron’s desk. Baron did not look up, “Leaving early? You think this is another fucking day at the beach?” “Hardly Baron, by any stretch of the imagination! Desert, yes, that’s more like it -- another day wandering in the desert with you.” “You’re a real smart ass!”

“Nah, I’m just the Joker.” Jake walked out as fast as his long legs could carry him. Just you wait, Mr. Baron-the-bully, he thought. He thinks he shuffled the deck and loaded the cards? I am the Joker card that he pulled inadvertently, and do I intend to use all of my mystical powers.

MIDDAY DRIVE SAN FRANCISCO, SATURDAY THE “NASTY BUTT GOOD” BIKER BAR

Jake in the back seat rest, with Zara Jane driving, they negotiated the turns in the road on the motorbike as it thundered down the road. They drove across the majestic bridge, that was red, not golden, and soon found themselves on a stretch of road that led them out of town. The road became narrower, and now there were fields on either side of them. “This biker bar shouldn’t be far off now,” she shouted. Jake clutched her around the waist, and peered through his John Lennon-styled round tortoise-shell sunglasses. “Whatever you say, my love.” They pulled up at the biker bar called “Nasty Butt Good,” and parked their motorbike. They left their helmets on the seat cushion. “I can’t say I’m looking forward to the drive home, all that way on the bike.” “Relax,” she cried, “it’s an adventure. I am sure you will need a little vacation after the stress that you have been under lately.”

They approached the bartended that wore a skimpy “Nasty Butt Good” black tank-top. “What will it be?” “You have Steaming Whaler beer?” “Sure do.” “On tap?” “Yup.” “Okay, how about a pitcher, and a bucket of steamed black mussels in the white wine sauce.” “Run a tab?” “Nah. Here’s the cash. We’ll be sitting outside.” The bartender handed over the pitcher and two chilled mugs, and gave them a number sign to place on their table. They found a table under the trees by an outdoor patio. The bar area was packed, but they were a sufficient distance away to still garner some privacy. Jake poured two glasses, and held up his glass. “A toast!” “Go ahead,” she said, “make it a good one.” “To life and doing good, winning out over death and evil.” He clinked her glass, and drank deeply from the chilled brew. “Wow,” he said, wiping his lips with his sleeve, “I just love the taste of this breski.” “What a strange toast to make.” “No, why?” “Just is.” She looked at Jake, and realized in that moment that he was still one of the most devastatingly handsome and magnetic men she ever met. He touches my soul,

she thought, wow, something to add to my report to the Angel Oversight Committee. I am behind of my reports, she laughed to herself. “I’ll be glad to answer your question,” he took another sip of beer, and refilled his glass. “good thing I’m not driving.” “Carry on.” “I will,” Zara Jane noted that Jake looked genuinely concerned, “You see, I told you that only the interns ran the Loan mods, right?” “Modifications? Yes you did.” “Well, the thing is, ‘dual-tracking’ is against the law. You know, where the Bank can’t promise a loan on the one hand, then move to foreclose with the other, right? In fact the law says once you begin talking modification, you, Bank, have to stop all foreclosure activities. It must stop as a matter of law.” “Okay, I follow.” Just then their steamed muscles arrived, boiling hot, with two plates, and a mound of sliced French bread. “Dunk the bread in the sauce, yummy!” “Continuing.” “Listening.” “If there is a document anywhere that proves that they were in fact dual-tracking, then in fact the Bank can,” he plucked a muscle from its shell, “be hung out to dry.” “Did you find anything that shows they did wrong?” “I cannot find anything that says they did that. But knowing Baron, I am pretty sure that they did do that dual-tracking stuff, and I bet that there is some instruction from that slimy toad to that effect. “Well, my angel, am I right?” “Yes!”

“I knew it. I suspected it. Just cannot prove it!” “Where can I find that information?” “That the bank acted improperly?” “Yes.” She took a swig of beer, and munched on a mussel, nestling it in the baguette like a sandwich, then dunking it into the lemon-butter-wine sauce. “Let me cogitate on that a minute, as we eat.” Jake looked at her, “Sure. Think it over.” “It occurs to me,” she said finally, “that you do not realize the danger that you are in here. The unsavory characters that you are dealing with. Their penchant for the underhanded, and the flat-out illegal. Finding such a document will prove this up.” “Good, good,” he urged her, “keep going.” “It occurs to me that there are some rough characters behind the scenes that have engaged in some repugnant behavior that they do not want to see the light of day. Why do you want to find this document, Jake?” “It is one thing to suspect wrongdoing. It is quite another to know. I move from an innocent bystander, to an aider and abettor. Not where I want to be.” “Well, I will tell you intuitively what I think is going on. The Bank has engaged in this, not on a one-time basis, but as a matter of course, as a matter of how they do business.” “I hear you, little lady.” “It seems a cliché, but you think of yourself as the Knight in shining armor now that is going to save the day.”

“I do that I do. Maybe on a horse with the cavalry!” She laughed, “You can’t stay on a circus horse!” “Very funny.” “Be careful, Jake, they are onto you. They know that you cannot fully be trusted. I see intuitively that Baron never turned over to you all of the Bank’s documents. Certainly not one that could potentially torpedo their case.” “Of that I am sure. I have gone through a shit-load of documents,” he drained his glass of the golden liquid, and topped her glass, pouring himself another, “I have not seen one document there out of the thousands I have looked at till my eyes turned bloodshot.” “It is not there.” “Where?” “Wherever you are looking for it. It’s hidden. And I get the feeling that it is not a trove of documents. Just one. I think it’s even from Baron himself. And it spells out the scheme. To get the equity in the houses, I am gathering. He gets some kick-back, some reward. Handsome reward.” “For a moment there I thought you were going to say that he was handsome.” “Not my type.” She munched satisfied on the mussels. “Great detective work there, partner!” “You bet, anytime. Tread carefully, you are in a pit with snakes.” “Venomous?” “Always.” In the background, some bluegrass music played. A drunk biker dropped his beer mug, and it shattered on the concrete driveway. He staggered to pick up the glass shivers,

as his girlfriend in too-short-shorts tried to help him avoid getting cut. They ended up leaning down at the same time, head butting each other, both passing out cold. All in a day’s fun and festivities, Jake thought as he witnessed the occurrence. “There has to be some kind of shenanigans going on there. The fact that suddenly when I get there all the interns are gone? I mean, where did they all go?” “Shenanigans is right. And you have to be careful. Any move that you make to expose their dark secrets and they may come after you down a dark alley one night when you are working late. I am afraid that you can get hurt, and I mean physically if you try and directly expose their antics. There is so much money involved here Jake.” “I know. That’s the point. I am sure that they are watching me as much as they are watching Wiley. But what I can’t figure out is why they are going to trail on this one. The man is dying. Let him be. The jury cannot but warm to the guy.” “It could just be bravado. They have been getting away with this for so long that they just don’t even begin to think that this mess could unravel. And kicking out the interns, and hiding the document before you got there . . . a bit of a scam, Jake.” “Whoa there, go back.” “Back where?” “What you just said.” “What did I just say?” “You said something about kicking out the interns,” he held up one finger, and then held up another, “and hiding the document.” “I did.” “Where?”

“I will concentrate on that. I just feel that they think their secret is completely hush-hush.” “We already bate stamped all the documents between us.” “Meaning, lawyer-breath?” “Oh, the numbers at the bottom of all the documents we have traded, Wiley and the Bank, are all stamped by hand with a machine, a numeric number, one grouping for the plaintiffs, and one for the defendants, if you get my drift.” “Got the drift. So what you are saying is all that will be traded has been traded? Emails too.” “Yes, the works.” “Hard drives on the server?” “Yes. That to. The server had over 50,000 pages in fact. I know, I examined them all individually.” “Nothing bad that they did?” “Figuratively speaking, no. I need real proof.” “Let me know what you are after.” “Some communication, maybe a letter, an email. Something that stated the policy, but hid the policy at the same time. It was certainly not on the main server, as that Wiley has been given, and I looked through everything before it went out. He got three full boxes of documents.” “It was all ‘washed.’” “What?” “The drive, it was professionally scrubbed.”

“Ya think?” “I know, babe, if there is one document essentially, then it was lifted out, and it wont be traceable, even as a ghost file, even that was erased. There is no shadow memory of it. These guys are thorough.” “Wow, what do I do?” “I bet you there is one copy, though, and I am thinking it was scanned, and exists on one computer.” “Where?” “Dunno. I am sure it’s portable.” “Hey, you wanna share another pitcher of beer?” “Sure, but only another two glasses max. You go get it, I will meditate on this for a while.” Jake jumped up, leaned over and kissed Zara Jane on the kips. “I knew you could help me find out where it is. I knew there had to be some document. They could make it disappear, but they still need to keep a record of it too, huh?” “Why?” “Maybe because that document established the common scheme or purpose under which Baron and buddies operate. Without something in writing, how could Baron hold anyone accountable if they in turn decided to bypass him from the profits? Every pirate wants a share of the spoils, right? That document is his insurance policy that the thugs he is in business with keep their end of the bargain.” “Honor among thieves?” “Or dishonor.”

“Pretty cool, this sleuthing stuff.” “Paradise Paranormal Investigations?” “No, you got yourself into this unholy mess all on your own.” “Okay, point made. I will be right back with the beer.” Jake walked back into the bar to order another pitcher, and felt invigorated. Finding out what was going was pivotal to his keeping his nose out of trouble. He was no longer a free-roving “legal consultant” circling the perimeters of the situation, leisurely debating his part in the proceedings and providing learned cognitive input. Someone, in the form of Baron, was setting him up with deliberate intent to take the proverbial fall, and not by random chance, either. He knew that just when all the doors to his perception and understanding might seem as if they had slammed shut, there still had to be a window left ajar somewhere. He was ready to open that window. He knew that while he might not be able to sneak through its aperture, he figured his angel, could. Jake’s concerns over skullduggery at the Bank had at first been circulating only on the periphery of his consciousness. Now after his conversation with Zara Jane, he realized that not only was subterfuge indeed at hand, he was the one being set up with some ingenuity to take the fall if Baron’s schemes ever backfired and came to light. Not a great place to be. The weasels would have gnawed all the meat off the bones by unsavory and illegitimate tactics, then would claim that Jake Morrison had been hired to investigate and had found and removed all of the wrong-doers. The money from their ill-

gotten gains long gone, the skeleton would have still been left hanging in his closet as it were. To forestall such a malodorous outcome, Zara Jane was, as always, his messenger and guide. And once again, her Angel instincts had not failed him.

Chapter Four: A Lizard in the Sun

SAN FRANCISCO SUPERIOR COURT MONDAY MORNING 9H30 am

Baron was in the witness stand, and Wiley was peppering him with questions. What he knew, when he knew it, what he did not know, and why. Baron was smart, and was avoiding and shielding the questions with dexterous ease. “So you are saying that the Bank, your Bank, never singled out the Hamiltons for special treatment?” “No, we only followed the procedures set forth in the policy manuals.” “And you are saying here today that you had no interest in the value of the property, their property?” 74

“Yes. That is exactly what I am saying.” “So your Bank went ahead and foreclosed and filed a Notice of Default just because of the loan?” “Yes. We did not know what the property was worth, nor did we care.” “Are you familiar with Civil Code Section 2924?” “No, not off the top of my head, no.” “I would like to read to you what the code section says, if that is okay, your Honor?” The judge shook himself awake. “Yes, go ahead, Counsel,” and nodded back. “The statute states that it is ‘modifying the foreclosure process to require mortgagees, beneficiaries, and authorized agents to contact borrowers and explore options that could,’” and here Wiley placed special emphasis, “then ‘avoid foreclosure.’ Does that help your recollection?” “No, not really. We followed the procedures that gave the Hamiltons all the time they needed to complete their paperwork.” “Are you familiar with the Mortgage Relief Bill?” “No.” “It was codified as Civil Code sections 2923.5 and 2926.6.” “No, I don’t know those sections.” “It provided certain protections to borrowers in foreclosure, most notably mandatory notification, meetings, and consultation processes that have to be made available to the borrower prior to the filing of a Notice of Default.” “No.”

“No what?” “I am not aware of the code sections by number. But I know that we followed all the legal necessary procedures.” “Are you familiar with Civil Code Section 2923.5?” “No, as I told you, not by number, but I am sure we complied.” “This statute requires that the Lender may not file a Notice of Default until 30 days after this contract and good faith discussion takes place. Was this done in this case?” “I don’t know.” “’Yes’ or ‘No’ answers please.” “I cannot answer anything other than a ‘Yes,’ that the legal procedures were followed in this case, and in every case.” “There has to be a genuine discussion regarding the borrower’s current financial situation, and an actual exploration into the borrower’s options to stay in their house. Was this done?” “Yes, I am sure those procedures were followed properly by the Loss Mitigation Department.” “Who handled the Loss Mitigation Department.” “I am not sure what you mean by ‘handled?’” “Ran it. Headed it. Who was in charge of it.” “Mary.” “Mary who?” “Mary Summers.” “Ah, yes, we asked to depose her. The Bank refused.”

“No, we did not refuse. She has been out ill.” “Really? Since when?” “About a month I think.” “What is the matter with her?” “It is personal medical information, and confidential as well. I am sorry, I cannot divulge that information even if I wanted to. All I know is that she requested a leave of absence, and the Bank’s HR department granted her request.” “Who else handles the Department?” “I am sorry, which Department?” “The Loss Mitigation Department.” “Now?” “Yes, now?” “Mr. Morrison was hired on recently. He has subsequently cleared the decks.” “Cleared the decks, can you elaborate?” “Yes, we placed him in charge of the Loss Mitigation Department. He has made the decision to clear the deck of all personnel, pending a review of our policies and procedures. We have nothing but trust in now placing the Department in his competent hands.” “Which staff members are still there?” “Mr. Morrison made the decision to clear the decks. We have no new staff on board pending interviews which we imagine will be scheduled as soon as this trial is over, when Mr. Morrison’s time can be then better apportioned to the matter at hand of staffing.”

Jake sat bolt upright in his chair. So this is how it was going to be, he thought, blame the messenger that you hire, and clear the decks of anyone that worked there prior to the trial. An interesting gambit. Zara Jane was sitting behind Jake’s chair, and she poked his shoulder. Jake nodded, but did not turn around. He could see the set-up coming, and now it was here. Baron was playing his cards like a master poker player. Wiley knew what was going on too. “Mr. Morrison is now in an interesting predicament. He is both your trail attorney, as well as the person that you have hired on to run the Department. Thus cannot be deposed or made to answer questions as a witness regarding his current work capacities, since I am sure as he and you are both aware that would be privileged and protected information, especially as anything he would testify to in the witness stand about be matters of and concerning the Department are now protected with you going to trail. He would be bound by both the Confidentiality rules vis-à-vis your Bank as a client, and the Attorney-Client confidences regarding the case at hand. Isn’t that right?” “I have no idea,” Baron lied, “what was your specific question? Could you repeat it?” Jake acknowledged that Baron had sewn up the Bank’s case tighter than a Thanksgiving Turkey. He had thought of all the possible angles, and had clearly figured out the interplays, the actors, and even what they would say under the circumstances. Jake had to concede it was, to all intents and purposes, a masterful play of legal strategy. Jake could not be deposed or forced to testify as a witness against his client’s interests on the stand, since he was already representing the client in the action. So they could pin everything on Jake, and he could neither admit nor deny, since to do either would breach

the Confidentialities of a lawyer that the Bar considered gilt-plated in sovereignty regarding professional conduct. A lawyer would be ill-regarded, and could be sanctioned, for breaching such confidences. Baron had tied Jakes hands metaphorically speaking. He could not outwardly disagree with what Baron was testifying to. But Jake still had one card still secreted up his sleeve. . . The judge ordered the court adjourned for the day, because one of the jurors took ill. The following day, because of a plumbing problem in the building, the court was dark. The case was adjourned, pending the return of the juror and the curing of the building’s plumbing problem. Jake took the time off for some much needed rest and relaxation, and to take in some of the city’s sights with Zara Jane. They buzzed around the city on the motorbike, stopping at a small seafood restaurant for lunch. Jake was finally in good spirits. “I don’t know why, honey, but I feel that the tide is turning.” “You mean that the bad guys will lose?” “Well, losing and winning are always so relative, you know. Even the winners lose something usually, and the baddies never really get punished. Legal victories are never an outcome defined in absolutes. Kind of like Solomon splitting the baby. In the bible the real mother comes forward. It law the judge is no surgeon and he or she does a hack job of dividing the baby. Kind of more of a slash, chop, and lacerate than a clean cut, if you know what I mean?”

“Interesting analogu,” she looked over the menu, “it is such a Western concept to see ‘good and bad,’ ‘win or lose,’ as such absolutes. The reality is that things are always such a blend of outcomes. No-one has a fantastic year, and no-one has a terrible year, it is all a succession of moments. Some good, some bad, and the outcome never what both sides expected?” “Yeah. Could not agree more.” Jake rubbed the stubble on his chin. “By the way, babe, have you decided on what you are going to get?” “Why don’t we share? You okay with that?” “Yeah, fine, just so as long as I get what I want!” “Really? What happened to that ‘sharing’ spirit?” “I am just kidding, you know that.” “I am thinking that my unorthodox plan may just work after all.” He smiled a devil-may-care smile, “You know, the one I was telling you about.” “What would you do without me?’ “Well, that’s a question that I would rather not leave up for conjecture.” “Good answer.” “Good question! But in all seriousness. It is a good idea to arrive at some conclusion as to the intents and purposes of Baron. It is another go-around with Wiley tomorrow, and that should prove to be more than interesting, no?” “I think that he wants you to take the fall for their bad acts. He was putting on an act there in the stand, and knew exactly what was going on. Which was entertaining to a degree, but callous to say the least. Putting you up as the scapegoat was just plain wrong.”

“Well, it is all part of his diabolical plan, I guess. He must have been planning the moves for weeks before he called me in.” “Probably, and he thinks you are the perfect fall guy.” Just then, the waiter shuffled over, and they ordered mixed sea-food in a mediumspicy red curry sauce, with vegetable brown rice, and mango iced teas. The waiter scribbled the order in a disinterested manner on a small white notepad, and then disappeared from sight hastily. “Baron must have been orchestrating developments there at the Bank for a while it seems, and I think he feels these shenanigans will continue unnoticed. Using me a shield for his and their actions was a rather dastardly move, I must admit, and I give him full credit for his skullduggery.” “He and the Bank have been doing what they damn well please, and for a while now it seems. How many people have been affected? How many have lost their homes?” “Hard to say. The files are a mess. Reams of papers stuffed here and there. They should have been two-hole punched. There needed to be an “Evidence” folder, and “Pleading’ folder, at least one, maybe two or three depending on the stack of documents, and even an ‘Unlawful Detainer’ folder. If the case was removed to federal court, then a ‘Removel’ folder.” “And, legal-breath?” “Nothing like that at all. No separate folders, just pushed and shoved there by some intern eager to get the free lunch, and get the hell out of Dodge.” “Wow, what benefit to them to run things like that?”

“Just makes it easier for them in the Loan Modification side to take longer in doing any genuine workouts. No wonder the Bank kept requesting the documents over and over again, in the Hamilton case, I think eight or nine times, hard to tell with such complete unmitigated confusion. Of course, Baron was the one really running the Loss Mitigation side, the arm of the Bank with the teeth.” “The foreclosures?” “Yup. With an apparent eye to gaining the equity. Acting all this time with some apparent impunity. They just mow through a batch of interns that tire of the cheap lunch menu, and in this bad economy find another batch of the cheap and the willing to replace them, only adding to the confusion in the files.” “Crafty.” “You think baron is crafty? Wait, get this! The interesting thing about calling me as a witness is that is it is only possible in California if in fact the client gave consent to my testifying, and we know that Baron would never agree to that at all. Clever, he seems to have thought through all of the possible angles, every step of the way. He anticipated everything. And I walked unsuspectingly straight into his web.” The waiter reappeared with the iced-teas topped with fresh mint leaves, and lime slices, and announced their order would appear in the not-too-distant future. They thanked him for the opportunistic culinary update, and continued their animated conversation. “There in interesting wrinkle in all of this too,” Jake noted. “What’s that?”

“The client here for all intents and purposes is not even Baron, but the Bank itself, as a corporation. I owe a duty to the corporation here to proceed and act in a manner considered in the best interests of the corporation.” “Which means?” “I see a bad act, a violation, but because of my duties of Confidentiality I have to figure out if revealing said acts could actually be harmful to the organization. I have to always act in what is considered the best interests of the corporation. So bad acts can’t be revealed as they would be harmful to the corporation. Another win for Baron. All this stuff is interesting, no?” “All the more reason that it was a good thing that you did not quit when you first wanted to. What are you going to do?” The waiter arrived and began to slide dishes in front of the two of them. Steam was rising off the curried seafood bowl, imparting a delectable fragrance. They scooped rice and seafood onto their plates. She served him, he served her, ritualistically and lovingly. “The food is great here. I am pleased we found this place.” “Joe recommended it.” “Kewl. “Here is the thing that is messed up about the whole thing.” “What is that?” “This duty I owe the corporate client – I actually cannot reveal any of the confidences that are revealed to me during the course of the representation either. In other words, having interns running the department could be seen as a secret; the terrible

problems with the files, revealing all of it it can only be done with the full disclosure and the consent of the client, certainly if the information is detrimental to the client. So again, Baron wins.” “How did this Baron get to be so smart? He’s got you every which way you look and turn.” Jake pulled a shrimp by the tail from the steaming broth. “That may be so, that may be so. He has confirmed my earliest deductions.” “Which was?” “The guy is a bad act, a ruthless renegade as it were, a crafty barbarian who, for whatever reason, decided to haul me into his web of intrigue to provide a plausible shield to cover his and the Bank’s actions. He has probably personally enriched himself too. Plus he has now placed me in grave danger -- ethically, morally, and legally.” “Sad.” “But true.” “He left out one thing in his equation of bad acts.” “What?” “You! Angles to the rescue. Tipping the scales of justice, as it were.” “Maybe not tipping, maybe leveling the playing field a bit?” Zara Jane smiled a half-smile, and her yellow-brown eyes twinkled. “Okay, I buy that!” They sat and eat, surveying the lights of the city. Tomorrow would be another day. An interesting one most probably. The battle between good, and evil? Perhaps, depending on the vantage point of the viewer.

SAN FRANCISCO SUPERIOR COURT CIVIL DIVISION 9H55 am

John Wiley was ready to wrap up his case, and was beginning closing arguments. He had previously decided to bring Nathan in to testify on the stand, but he was so enfeebled and weakened by this experience that his testimony had to be stopped. Wiley believed that the sight of Nathan, his condition, and his pallor, was visually powerful enough for the impact he envisioned it would have on the jurors. Jake did not ask any questions of Nathan, even though Baron kept tugging at his arm, cajoling him to wade in. Jake played a strategy call, that for him to stand up and interrogate Nathan, with even the kindest and gentlest of questions, would do great harm in potentially alienating the jurors even further. And he wanted as much sympathy as he could possibly garner. Wiley decided to end his arguments by flashing a huge cardboard display, which he held up and moored against the judge’s raised wooden pedestal. It was a “Confidential” Memo, that was drafted and signed by Robert Baron. Baron squinted as the board was placed for viewing. “What the hell?” he said, a shocked look on his face. Wiley took out a long stick, and read each line of the memo aloud, slowly, stopping at the part where Baron had ordered: “Once we have determined that there is equity available sufficient to be lucrative to the Bank and it’s interests, it is incumbent

upon Trust Bank as a matter of policy to proceed without deviation towards filing the Notice of Default, and then move resolutely towards the subsequent Trustee sale!” If ever there was a smoking gun, this was it! Wiley let the smoke trail waft in front of the jurors, who sat up in hushed surprise. The judge studied the Memo with restrained interest. Baron looked at the board, and at Jake, who sat there in studied reticence. “Object!” he hissed, Now!” “On what grounds?” “The document is not bate stamped.” Jake stopped, and peered at the board. “Yes it is, there,” he pointed, “on the lower right corner!” “Goddamed, I kept that memo hidden.” “You did what?” “I kept that hidden,” he sneered, “now ‘Object!’” “I have no grounds.” “How the fuck did he get that document anyway?” “I think it found its way into his possession,” Jake said calmly. “Yeah, how? Who was in my office? Were you?” “Me, hell no! I never was,” Jake said with a hint of sarcasm, “but Zara Jane was. On Sunday, in fact. I think she found it on your laptop. The one you spirited away in the wall safe.” Baron’s face went beet red as the blood rushed in, almost popping every vein. The dice had been cast.

“Objection, your Honor!” Baron leapt to his feet, screaming, “I object!”

The

judge slowly crawled forward in the plush leather chair. “Counsel, control your client! No further outbursts will be tolerated!” Baron yelled, “That document was not part of discovery. It was a Confidential memo. This has to stop!” “Counsel, if you do not control your client, then I will have to sanction you!” The judge wagged the gavel at Jake, who pretended mortified surprise. Baron yelled, leaping to his feet, “That Board must come down. It is being used out of context!” “I . . .” Jake began to speak. He decided it best to join in the fray, and leapt to his feet as well, “Your Honor, I am sorry. I beg the indulgence of the court, but I find myself unable to control my client!” Baron through caution to the wind, and ran to the board. He struggled with Wiley to remove the board from the juror’s view. At which point, the bailiff got drawn in, and within a very short period of time there was a mass of arms and legs as Baron, Wiley, and the Bailiff fought over control of the board. Soon, the plywood, unable to withstand such manhandling, splintered, and all three men collapsed in a writhing heap on the courtroom floor. The judge, aggrieved, stood up, and began pounding his gavel on the desk. “Order!” he yelled, but the arm of the gavel broke off, sending the gavel head scuttling on an unintended flight across the courtroom. It hit a shocked juror on the head. In the center of the courtroom, the three men continued to writhe and contort. The jurors stood up, almost en masse, and with eyes and mouths held open and vacuous,

surveyed the frenzied mayhem demonstration that was now unfolding before their eyes. “This is better than on television,” one said. This was all highly entertaining to the other onlookers in the gallery, but was certainly not invigorating or healthy to Jake’s client’s case, he reflected. There was still the wrenching of hands and grunts that emerged from the group, and finally the judge decided to personally interpolate himself directly into the skirmish. However, as he approached the group, Baron’s flailing leg caught him of balance, and he landed with a heavy thud on his back, then slid across the slick recently-waxed floor, finally coming to a gentle halt near the jury foreman. Then he just reposed there, staring empty-eyed at the ceiling. That’s it! Jake thought, standing up, dispatching his legal yellow pad and fountain pen quickly into his black leather briefcase, clasping it closed in fluid motion. He had waited for this day all his life, the unhinging of his client into an admission of bad acts, and yet when that moment was upon him, he thought it prudent to best leave and divorce himself from further danger. He nodded to Zara Jane, who grabbed her leather jacket. “The hand of destiny has been played. Best we leave before it turns into a fist,” he said to her softly. “There is no good than can come of hanging around in this pandemonium!” “Shouldn’t you stay?” “Wisdom and vigilance say it’s best I, well, we, both beat a rather hasty retreat at this juncture.”

For some reason, Jake felt no pleasure in the knowledge that Baron had upset the judge, the Bank’s case, and most certainly upended his career. But Jake had been framed, and the one positive to all of this was the likelihood of a new trail, or a finding in favor of the Hamiltons. Eventually, when the dust had settled. He was sure that that if Baron disliked him, after today he would violently detest him, and it was probably an opportune time for him and Zara Jane to begin their excursion down the coastline. Jake grabbed her hand, and they marched out the courthouse, and flew down the white marble steps. “What did you say to him?” “Baron?” “Yes, he went off like fireworks on the fourth of July.” “Oh, his Memo was definitely the clincher. It proved his was dirty all the way to his eyeballs, and he knew it. Putting the bates stamp on the bottom was masterful.” “Getting it to Wiley was pretty savvy too. It was your only way out. But you must have said something that drove Baron’s car off the cliff edge, metaphorically speaking.” They had reached the front door, and pushed open the doors. A wail of an ambulance grew louder in the background. “I told him you broke into his office, and found his notebook.” “You did not!” “I did, but I never thought he would jump up like that.” “Goes to show ya!” “What?” “Good trumps Evil.”

Jake laughed, “Well, this time it did. I guess.” She tossed him his helmet, and he squinted into the sun. “You look like a lizard catching a suntan.” “I feel like one,” he said, as he secured his briefcase, then he put on his helmet. He slid smoothly into the back seat of the motorbike, feeling her hair and body against his, “God, how I missed seeing and feeling the suns rays.” As they pulled away from the curb, Jake noticed Nathan sitting in the back seat of his car, parked in the handicapped stall. He lifted his right hand in a military salute, and as he smiled wanly at Jake, he mouthed the words, “Thank you!” Jake nodded, and gestured back in salute. “I told you would find out what you came here to do,” she said, as she hit the starter, and the engine growled to life. He then kissed the back of Zara Jane’s neck, the soft eaves of her hair fanning his face, and he held her close. He felt her body give an almost imperceptible shudder. “Darling, I just did!” Jake exclaimed. Nathan’s smiling face would forever be indelibly etched on his memory. It was all the reward that he needed. The motorbike under Zara Jane’s caress glided seamlessly into traffic, and the long road home.

THE TRUCK STOP ALONG THE WAY

They pulled into the truck stop, which had a mid-century diner ambiance to it, although somewhat decayed. The slid into a well-worn booth, and contemplated the menu that was written in chalk on a huge blackboard on the wall. “What you in the mood for?” “How about a huge salad and two greasy burgers to be on the decadent side?” “Sounds like a plan, babe.” “There is something that has been troubling me,” Jake said, resting his helmet on the seat next to him. “Go ahead, make our day. I am sure it will be thought-provoking and entertaining.” “You are either too cute, or too kind! Anyway, here goes. Remember you said don’t quit, and that the reason for me being there would be revealed in time?” “Sure do,” she said, pulling off her waistcoat, she wore a white vest and jeans. “I helped the Hamilton’s save their house, and they were not even my clients. I mean what I did was unethical, but moral, if you know what I mean. Imagine if some other guy was hired by the Bank, he would have had them evicted probably.” “Not even probably, definitely.” “Do you think all of this was predestined, I mean by fate?” “Well, you raise two issues in the same sentence. It’s a little more complicated than that, my love.” “How so?”

The waitress came over, took their order, and brought over two cups of coffee, which they had asked to morph into iced coffee. “There are those that say that everything in the Universe is ordered, those that believe in Quantum Physics, right, the repetition of observable outcomes. Science, in other words.” “Yeah, I follow.” “Then like on the other extreme, as it were, are those that believe in Zoroastrianism.” “Zoro who?” Jake almost swallowed his coffee the wrong way. “What does that mean?” “Zoroastrianism, those who believe that the creator of our luck are ourselves. That our words, thoughts, deeds, and actions all create the experiences of life that we experience.” “All words and actions, right, nothing set according to some divine plan, right?” “Well, they believe that ultimately there will be a time, ‘at the end of time,’ as it were, where good will triumph over evil, final judgment as it were.” “Until then?” “Deeds and actions. So random in as far as people each would then have the responsibility for they way they act towards one another, reaping as it were from the way we act towards one another the rewards or punishment from such actions.” “Wow.”

Their salads and burgers arrived, and they asked for extra napkins. It was a lunch feast, the truck stop was filled with burly and intimidating-looking lunch patrons. They seemed strangely out of place. “Then, my love, what then? No plan? No call to action? Just random chance?” “Well, Jake, funny you should mention that. You know that Albert Einstein was one of the founders of the science of Quantum Physics, and he supposedly said, ‘God does not play dice with the Universe.’ He seemed a little queasy about the notion of a loss of determinism in Quantum Physics and its measurement. It seemed that even he wanted to allow for a variable of some kind – determinism!” “Wow, that you can have things ordered in the Universe, yet there could be some entanglement with chance?” “Yes.” “You always tell me about ‘lawyer-speak,’ this sounds like ‘angelspeak!’” She laughed, “Science is not just the realm of angles, silly, just to me at least it seems that there is a middle ground between the theory that everything is ordered, to the competing theory that nothing is ordered, and merely causality from our actions. The truth as it were seems to lie somewhere in the middle. There are some elements that are set, and others that are random.” “So take the Hamiltons as an example.” “Okay, let’s say you did not intervene. They would’ve lost their house.”

“Yes, that is so, and I bet the loss of the house would have killed poor Nathan. Literally.” “It might have done that yet, but what if he called out for help and your Higher Self answered the call?” “Wow, that is too metaphysical for me. How about I just did what was morally right in a situation that was stacked the other way?” “Okay, if you don’t like the Higher Self argument, how about that you were there when you two parallel universes intersected?” “Actually, there would be a third element in this mix as well. We cannot forget Baron. He’s surely in the astral mix as well.” “Yes, almost like a Third Force, running interference.” “Yes, but technically what I did was all wrong in that I violated unambiguous guidelines here and there in compromising professional ethics that are largely deterministic in setting up guidelines in the abstract.” “Meaning, kind of more logical?” “In a way, or in as far as human emotion is supposed to be null and void in these situation, and in fact goading emotion would always be the wrong manner in which to make any legal decision.” “Dispassionate and scientific?” “More logical. Without the intervention of emotion. Also, letting the chips fall where they must, no matter who get hurt.” “It must be easy for you, in some ways being an Angel and all.” “How so?”

“We seem to be taught that good is here, and evil is there, and they don’t intersect al all. Parallel universes. Different outcomes. If Nathan was evicted or died, it may be an evil outcome, but one the Bank might have considered was good to its cause. So the outcome is really muddied as far as representing such a client in these circumstances.” “Did you feel you did good ultimately?” “I felt that if I did not intervene then my integrity was being traded as a means to explain bad deeds that I had no part of formulating, and ultimately did not want a part of.” “Did you feel the same way when you were working at the law firm?” “Hell no, I am pretty sure I would have followed the outcome without thought as to whom I was hurting, or how.” “And now?” “Now I feel that I bear responsibility for my share of my actions. What I unleash, comes back on me, sometimes with greater counter force than I ever envisaged.” “Wow,” she held up a fist, “fist bump!” He connected fists, then asked, “Why are we fist bumping here?” “It like your Soul’s evolutionary journey! It has allowed you to make some amazing new choices, ones that before you would never have been able to make, no? More conscious awareness?” “I guess you can say that, although I wish there was a less painful way.” “Life is pain, and there are lessons along the way.” “Can’t we control the lessons?”

“Honey, the illusion is that we can ‘control’ life itself, and ultimately we can’t even do that. You eluded to that in your opening statements when you said that who on the jury could predict their end, and if they could, could they stop it? Change it?” “No. So what does this all mean?” “It means that everything is life is an experience. All we can do its study its flow, and learn from the individual experiences. Interpret them maybe?” “I guess we can call this ‘Practical Determinism.’ Maybe we have just invented a new philosophy?” She laughed, “Philosophy? No. How about a new ideology? Wow, that sounds like fun.” “Nah, I can hardly say that. All I did was go through an experience, then change my attitude towards that experience, wanting to temper bad action with some positive thought and integrity.” “Everyone still has to go through their lives, and learn the lessons?” “Maybe so, but there is also that aspect of changing the circumstances that I found. The bad acts got revealed, and a constructive outcome emerged. Just that I feel this seemed to be the exception, rather than the norm.” “No, my love. Before you were not acting consciously, but unconsciously. Then all a sudden you find yourself looking at your actions, to shape a new and different future in alignment with your higher values. What you did has the power to exponentially change lives, as you did in this instance.” “Could not have done it without your help,” he acknowledged.

“Aw,” she blushed, “that was sweet. But all you did was combine your new beliefs, with your integrity and sincerity. Pretty freeing, isn’t it?” She counted out money for the meal and a tip. “My turn! Ready to get back on the road?” “Yup. Pretty amazing stuff, our new ideology!” “Cool, Mister Ideology! Let’s go home.”

Allan Jon Kretzmar ÂŠ2011. All rights reserved. All characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons living or dead, is coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal. First printing.

Edited by Darinda Ann Otto. Images by Allan Jon Kretzmar. Follow further adventures at www.unexpectedANGEL.com. Check out the other Mini-books in the series on Kindle, Nook, and Google eBooks.

Forbidden/unexpected Angel The Series: Luck, Love . . . and a Twist of Fate! Other book titles

1. unexpected ANGEL The novella. A modern-urban love story with a supernatural twist. Angels show up in our lives when we least expect them. Jake Morrison is a bright, young and ambitious attorney hell-bent on achieving his vision of success. But his vision is about to become a nightmare. Zara Jane is a real-live Angel, sent from Heaven above to guide Jake through these pivotal changes in Jake’s life. She ends up working at Jake’s firm and dating him, so that she can watch over him. They fall in love. But Jake rejects the message and her love and his life spirals out of control. As an Angel Zara Jane imparts wisdom and insight for his life and world, and expresses her insight on the road that lies ahead, not only for Jake, but also for humankind as a whole. When Jake takes her words to heart his life goes through a metamorphosis, and he finds himself living his life in a manner that he could not have dreamed of before. KINDLE: unexpected ANGEL. Luck, love . . . and a Twist of Fate! (Forbidden/unexpected ANGEL) | http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005EET3M8 NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/unexpected-ANGEL/Allan-JonKretzmar/e/2940013028821

2. CUPID’S ARROWS A mini-romance mythological fable, where Zara Jane, Angel, creates a love connection between Mahmoud and Genevieve-Marie at the Palace of Versailles. This is part of her job as an Angel, and one of the more satisfying of her tasks. She takes special care and attention in the pursuit of these activities, and explains in a hilarious interchange with the Love Cherubs the state of affairs connected with helping humans find True Love. This caper involves a tinge of Cupid’s Love Potion #5, 2 cherubs, one Angel, and 2 Cupid’s arrows. KINDLE: Cupid's Arrows (Forbiddem/unexpected ANGEL) | http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005EDIC1W

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NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Cupids-Arrows/Allan-JonKretzmar/e/2940013095267

3. WILD HORSE TALE$ A mini-paranormal-action adventure set in Santa Barbara, California. Zara Jane, Angel, and Jake Morrison, erstwhile-lawyer, form Paradise Paranormal Investigations, Inc. This is the first case for their fledgling company, and they are called in to solve the mystery of racehorses that are dying, almost daily. What they uncover are some unexpected twists and turns. KINDLE: WILD HORSE TALE$ (Forbidden/unexpected ANGEL) | http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005EDICY4 NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/WILD-HORSE-TALE/AllanJon-Kretzmar/e/2940013109575

4. WHERE ANGELS FEAR TO TREAD A mini-paranormal-action adventure, that takes Zara Jane, Angel, and Jake Morrison, erstwhile-lawyer, on their second caper under their company, Paradise Paranormal Investigations, Inc., on a worldwide dash to stop the Holy Grail and the Golden Calf falling into the wrong hands, in this case, Gustavo, who is not your ordinary villain. He is a fallen Angel himself, with superpowers too. The CIA and the US government call in the two sleuths to provide investigative help. KINDLE: Where Angels Fear To Tread (Forbidden/unexpected ANGEL) | http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005EGQYJG NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/WHERE-ANGELS-FEAR-TOTREAD/Allan-Jon-Kretzmar/e/2940013122901

5. SET THE WORLD ON FIRE! (CONTINUATION OF “WHERE ANGEL’S FEAR TO TREAD!”) A mini-paranormal-action adventure, that takes Zara Jane, Angel, and Jake Morrison, erstwhile-lawyer, continue on their second caper under their company, Paradise Paranormal Investigations, Inc., on a worldwide dash to stop Gustavo in his tracks. Subject matter includes the Holy Grail, the Golden Calf, and the Knights Templar. KINDLE: Set The World On Fire! (Forbidden/unexpected ANGEL) | http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005EDKPE4

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6. YING-YANG LOVE A mini-romance. Vickie Ying lives in New York, Christian Yang lives in Hong Kong. They are worlds apart, yes each night respectively in their dreams they connect on a deep soul level that is turning their lives upside down. Their dreams are becoming an obsession, and when they dream they begin to see the other with increasing clarity. The chemistry and tension builds as they wonder if they will ever meet in person. Enter an Angel (Zara Jane) who tries to guide them both, but her message is not immediately recognized or followed. Ying-Yang Love (Forbidden/unexpected ANGEL) | http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005EDMEBG NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Ying-Yang-Love/Allan-JonKretzmar/e/2940013122598

7. ONLY LOVE MATTERS: INTERCEPTION A sweet mini-romance. Elizabeth Potter lives in London, for years entombed waiting for her husband to return after his military mission failed. She is invited by her nephew Drew to Hawaii. Enter an Angel that intercedes on behalf of Frederick, her husband to save her life, and allow her the chance to find love again. KINDLE: Only Love Matters (Forbidden/unexpected ANGEL) | http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005EDNF28 NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/ONLY-LOVEMATTERS/Allan-Jon-Kretzmar/e/2940013122734

8. WHAT YA GONNA DO WHEN THE ANGEL COMES? A mini-travel-adventure-romance. Jake Morrison, erstwhile lawyer, is convinced by his friend Dr. Robert Powell to try regression analysis to isolate when and where he and Zara Jane, Angel, really met to better explain their attraction. As the regression continues, Jake discovers that the answers come not only from this lifetime, but to ones that took place well hidden in the past. Jake unlocks the doors to open up new vistas of adventure, and understanding. KINDLE: WHAT YA GONNA DO WHEN

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THE ANGEL COMES? (Forbidden/unexpected ANGEL) | http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005EOTKOE NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/WHAT-YA-GONNA-DOWHEN-THE-ANGELS-COMES/Allan-Jon-Kretzmar/e/2940013122864

9. WHEN ANGELS COME HOME TO ROOST (Continuation of “What ya Gonna do When the Angel Comes?” A mini-travel-adventure-romance. A continuation of the regression analysis that Jake is undergoing with his friend, Dr. Robert Powell. Jake finds himself married in this past life to Zara Jane, when a violent storm blows their spice ship off course. Will they survive, and what secrets will be revealed? Stranded on an as-yet-uncharted island they meet Hoppy, a genie, who promises them a way out, with a surprising twist.

10. DEVIL’S ADVOCATE (Continuation of “WHEN ANGELS COME HOME TO ROOST”) A mini-travel-adventure-romance. A continuation of the regression analysis that Jake is undergoing with his friend, Dr. Robert Powell. Jake finds himself married in this past life to Zara Jane, still stranded on an as-yetuncharted island with Hoppy, the genie who has promised them a way off the island. But is this really what Jake wants? Find out the surprising twist as Jake’s mind plays the devil’s advocate. KINDLE: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005HB9URG NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/DEVILS-ADVOCATE/AllanJon-Kretzmar/e/2940013134041

11. ROBBER BARON (PART ONE) Jake is encouraged by his friend Baron to take up the practice of law again and head up the Loss Mitigation Department at the mighty Trust Bank, headquartered in San Francisco. Jake feels that his name and reputation are about to be misused to further some dark motive that he as yet is unaware of, and he has his misgivings. John Wiley is an attorney representing sympathetic clients as the battle-lines start to get drawn in this modern-day “David and Goliath” zero-sum contest. Jake trusts that whatever the motive behind Baron’s offer, it will somehow be revealed in time to him before damage can be done. Jake realizes this is all a puzzle -- this interplay between light and dark forces -- and that he would need almost a clairvoyant’s skill to separate them in time.

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12. THE BLESSING AND THE CURSE (CONTINUATION OF “ROBBER BARON”) (PART TWO) Jake Morrison, lawyer, is ready to quit his new assignment after he begins to find that Baron is using this job as a launch-pad to make Jake’s work life a misery. However, Zara Jane, the angel, convinces Jake to stay on and find out the real reason he has been sent to work there. Jake takes the deposition of the Plaintiff, and finds out they are legitimate claims. Additionally, Nathan Hamilton is dying, and Jake has to decide how far he will allow the job to dictate his actions, or whether he allows his integrity to be bought and sold by his accepting of the consulting position. KINDLE: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005K0EBB4 NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/books/e/2940013073418

13. PRAYER FOR RELIEF (CONTINUATION OF “THE BLESSING AND THE CURSE)(PART THREE) Jake Morrison, lawyer, suggests that his client, Trust Bank, settle the Hamilton case. Baron, his bank boss, refuses, and the case goes to trial. Jake begins to suspect that the motives of his client are not only unethical, but quite frankly illegal, and he faces a moral and professional dilemma. Does he pursue the defense and evict the Plaintiffs, or does he find the information that he needs to stop a miscarriage of justice. He solicits the help of his girlfriend, the angel Zara Jane, to retrieve a damning bank document that has been well-hidden from all human eyes. The story moves with a bullet-train’s pace towards a fascinating courtroom conclusion. KINDLE: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005K0EFOC NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/books/e/2940013073517

14. A LIZARD IN THE SUN (THE CONCLUSION OF “ROBBER BARON,” “THE BLESSING AND THE CURSE,” and “PRAYER FOR RELIEF,”)(PART FOUR) Jake Morrison, lawyer, is stymied in the courtroom. Baron, the Trust Bank manager, has masterfully played a game of legal intrigue, effectively and metaphorically binding Jake’s hands in accepting the blame for the Bank’s activities. But Jake solicited the help of his girlfriend, the angel Zara Jane, to retrieve a damning bank document that has been well-hidden from all human eyes. This is his trump card, but can he play it in time? The story moves with a bullet-train’s pace towards a fascinating courtroom conclusion. KINDLE: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005K0NOJO NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/books/e/2940013073562

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15. FORBIDDEN ANGEL: THE POETRY COLLECTION Modern-urban poems. BLOG: http://ForbiddenAngelGirlz.blogspot.com KINDLE: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005HILH16 NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/FORBIDDEN-ANGEL/Allan-JonKretzmar/e/2940012990969

LovEntwined The Series: Finders, Keepers, Losers, Weepers Other book titles 16. THE KINGMAKER An undocumented historical mini-romance fable set in 15th Century Great Britain. The throne of King Henry is about to be passed on to one of his three sons, but war with France looms. Enter Princess Isabella, an armorclad messenger, who meets Prince Richard, and guides him in the greatest adventure of his life. THE KINGMAKER (ENTWINED lovENTWINED) | http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005EDNGAO 17. GOING IN FOR THE KILL (CONTINUATION OF “THE KINGMAKER” PART ONE) A 15th Century mini-action-romance adventure fable, where Leopold, the French naval commander, seeks revenge and kidnaps Princess Isabella. Now King, Richard faces dark days as he struggles with the loss of his Queen, and decides to extract revenge of his own with unanticipated consequences. KINDLE: GOING IN FOR THE KILL! Part Deux of THE

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KINGMAKER (ENTWINED lovENTWINED) | http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005EDNICK NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/GOING-IN-THE-THE-KILLPart-Deux-of-THE-KINGMAKER/Allan-Jon-Kretzmar/e/2940013109568

18. THE WORLD’S YOUR OYSTER A mini-romance set in Italy. Francesca is a filmmaker and the daughter of a famed director who decides to enter her short film at the Venice Biennial. Enter an Angel who encourages Justin to enter his paintings in the Biennial Art Festival. The bait has been set, and they are destined to meet. KINDLE: THE WORLD IS YOUR OYSTER! (ENTWINED lovENTWINED) | http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005EDNL3Q NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/The-Worlds-Your-Oyster/AllanJon-Kretzmar/e/2940013094802

19. MOMMY’S GONE! A bitter mini-romance. Brad and Mara have been married for fifteen years and have two children, Jamie and Mark. A poignant tale that explores keeping love alive in a marriage that goes through dramatic changes. Mara serves in the Navy, and completes a tour of duty in Iraq. Then Afghanistan follows. . . A story as current as our headlines. KINDLE: MOMMY'S GONE! (ENTWINED lovENTWINED) | http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005EDNM76 NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/MOMMYS-GONE/Allan-JonKretzmar/e/2940013109537

20. FOLLOW THE FIRE! (alternative ending to mommy’s gone!) A bitter-sweet mini-romance. Brad and Mara have been married for fifteen years and have two children, Jamie and Mark. A poignant tale that explores keeping love alive in a marriage that goes through dramatic changes. Mara serves in the Navy, and completes a tour of duty in Iraq. Then Afghanistan follows. . . A story as current as our headlines. This story is the alternative ending to “Mommy’s Gone!) KINDLE: Follow The Fire! (Alternative ending to "Mommy's Gone!) (ENTWINED lovENTWINED) | http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005EDNM62 106

NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/FOLLOW-THE-FIREAlternate-ending-to-Mommys-Gone/Allan-Jon-Kretzmar/e/2940013109544

21. (LOVE) ON THE WINGS OF EAGLES A mini-romance. Mary and Pete are destined to find each other, but their ability to meet gets stalled. Enter an eagle that brings about their chance meeting, that in that instant changes both of their lives from that point forward forever. Luck, love, and a twist of fate. KINDLE: (LOVE) ON THE WINGS OF EAGLES! (ENTWINED lovENTWINED) | http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005EDNOGA NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/BookAllan-JonKretzmar/e/2940013094963

22. WHEN LIGHTENING STRIKES TWICE! A mini-romance set in Mumbai, India. Ramish is a lawyer who is travelling on a train and is struck by lightening. In that instant the most beautiful woman in the world, his world, gets revealed to him. Ghita Raj is a Bollywood film star, wondering if she will ever find true love. She seeks answers from her astrologer and palmist, Mister Choksy, who tells her that a chance meeting with a man may be soon. Very soon. KINDLE: WHEN LIGHTENING STRIKES TWICE! (ENTWINED lovENTWINED) | http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005EE61Q4 NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/WHEN-LIGHTENINGSTRIKES-TWICE/Allan-Jon-Kretzmar/e/2940013109476

23. COWGIRL KATE A mini-romance. Kate is a student in Texas who receives an unexplained and untraceable email and text message on her cellphone to make sure she goes to her grandmother’s funeral. She is told that she needs to make sure she attends, for there is a fated meeting that has to take place there. Kate is given control of the family cattle ranch after her grandmother’s passage, but the email and text message concern affairs of the heart. KINDLE: COWGIRL KATE! (ENTWINED lovENTWINED) | http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005EE621S

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NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/COWGILR-KATE/Allan-JonKretzmar/e/2940013109438

24. HOLY LAND: BLOOD BROTHERS A mini-romance set in the Holy Land. A metaphorical bridge is being built between Rami, an Israeli soldier, and Ghita, a beautiful young Palestinian girl. They begin to steal moments together, knowing that on both sides such encounters are forbidden. The story moves with dynamic intensity to its conclusion as Rami and Ghita struggle to find freedom to live and love. As topical as todayâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s headlines. KINDLE: HOLY LAND: BLOOD BROTHERS! (ENTWINED lovENTWINED) | http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005EDQGB0 NOOK: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Holy-Land/Allan-JonKretzmar/e/2940013109513

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Modern-urban poetry and Blog

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