Free Money to Burn by James Grippando Page A

Saxton Silvers’ most talented people dumping their stock in the firm?”
    “That’s ridiculous. I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”
    “Well, let me give you an example. Michael Cantella has twice been named Saxton Silvers’ investment advisor of the year, correct?”
    “I believe that’s true.”
    Eric and I looked at each other, equally confused.
    “He also holds the title of vice president, as head of your Green Division?”
    “He’s certainly one of our most outstanding young talents.”
    “No argument there,” said Bell. “He’s appeared a half dozen times on FNN, including twice on my own show—which, by the way, normally appears Monday through Friday at five P.M ., so viewers, please set your TiVo.”
    “And your point is?” said Wyle.
    “Simple,” said Bell—and he seemed to be struggling not to smile. “My sources tell me that just yesterday, Mr. Cantella liquidated his entire personal holdings in Saxton Silvers—nearly two million dollars’ worth of stock and options.”
    On screen, our CEO looked stunned. Across the room, Eric looked even more stunned. I stared at the screen with my mouth hanging open.
    Bell said, “Sir, what about that?”
    “I—I can’t comment, except to say that it sounds like more silly rumors.”
    “It’s no rumor,” said Bell, holding up a document. “I have here—”
    My cell rang, and I recognized the incoming number: It was Sonya, the general counsel.
    “Be in my office in two minutes,” Sonya said, without even a hello.
    “Michael, what the hell is going on?” said Eric.
    “I can explain,” I told him, then went back to the phone. “Sonya, I’m with Eric.”
    “I’ll be right there,” she said, and hung up.
    “I’m listening,” said Eric.
    “This is not what it looks like,” I said, taking a deep breath to start my story.
    But Eric was now staring past me in disbelief. On FNN, Bell was going to a commercial—but not before the network flashed a new B REAKING N EWS banner on the screen: S AXTON S ILVERS “A DVISOR OF THE Y EAR” DUMPS ALL S&S HOLDINGS.
    My burned hand was stinging worse by the minute, and echoing in my ear once again was Stanley Brewer’s warning about the type of work I did, the enemies I’d surely made—enemies I didn’t even know I had.
    “That’s the thing about revenge,” I said, watching the screen.
    “Revenge?” said Eric. “Who said anything about revenge?”
    “No one, forget it,” I said, but the lawyer’s words were still ringing.
    You never know when—if ever—they are going to call it even.

13
    E RIC DIDN’T OFTEN MAKE ME SWEAT, BUT HE WASN’T WEARING HIS mentor hat this morning. It was hard to believe that twelve hours earlier I had been celebrating my birthday with scores of guests—including Eric—who probably thought I was one of the luckiest guys on the planet. Not one of them would have traded places with me now.
    “Stuart is going to call me as soon as he putts out on the next hole,” said Eric, only slightly facetious about our CEO’s priorities, “so I need some straight talk: Is there any truth to what Chuck Bell just said about selling your stock?”
    Eric had only a rough idea of my identity theft problems, so I laid out the details as quickly as I could. Sonya arrived just as I was getting to the FNN report:
    “In typical FNN style,” I said, “the report is technically accurate, but it’s grossly misleading. True, all of my stock in Saxton Silvers was liquidated, but it was liquidated along with all of my other holdings—not by me, but by an identity thief who has taken everything I own and moved the cash into a secret offshore account.”
    I expected Sonya to jump in and second my explanation, but she was silent. Not merely silent. She seemed skeptical.
    Eric said, “Is there something you’d like to add, Sonya?”
    “I’m concerned,” she said.
    My stomach churned. I didn’t know where this was headed, but I suddenly recalled that it was