done to his house. Agatha wanted to buy some land on Long Island. He knew about western land values, but still… At that price there had better be a gold mine on the acreage. Payment on a warehouse in St. Louis was overdue. The MacPhaull Coal Company looked to have all but washed away in a recent flood. And the Todasca Canal Company had collapsed, leaving the investors holding the bag. Jesus. What a mess.
“And there's more.”
He looked up to see Lindsay in the doorway, her shoulder against the jamb and her arms folded over her midriff. “How much more?” he asked, tossing the letters aside.
“There was a run, five weeks ago, on the Two Rivers Bank in Frankfort, Kentucky. We had to close the doors when the money ran out. We're trying to call in the outstanding loans to meet depositor demands, but it's trickling at best.” She smiled tightly. “And then there's the Macon and Charlotte Road Company, which encountered a not-so-dry creek bed and is having to be rerouted. The investors have been asked to put in another ten thousand apiece. We're in for twenty-five thousand already.”
Jackson sagged back into the chair. Deciding he could only take the bull by the horns, he asked, “What's the total net worth of the MacPhaull Company? In today's market.”
“In today's market and under today's circumstances …” She shrugged. “If you were going to sell off everything by sundown, I'd guess that you'd net something in the realm of two hundred thousand dollars. That would include both houses—Henry's and this one—and all the personal property. And, of course, it's assuming that you can find buyers for any of it.”
It was a huge assumption. One he wasn't willing to make. “What was the estimated value of total assets before the Panic?”
“Close to seven hundred thousand,” she supplied, coming into the room. She took the seat directly across the desk from him and added, “Our biggest single income source isthe mining operation in western Virginia. It's the most reliable as well. If you're willing to consider advice, I think it would be worth whatever it costs to put it back into operation.”
Jackson pulled the letter from the mine manager from the stack and considered the figures. “Is this man, Snyder, pretty accurate in his estimates?”
“I usually add another twenty percent and come closer than he does.”
“Have you got the forty-eight thousand to put it back to rights?”
“Not in hand. But we can come up with it if we sell off some properties. Richard and I were discussing the possibilities when you and Mr. Vanderhagen arrived.”
Jackson studied her, not making any effort to conceal the appraisal. She met it just as squarely as she'd answered his rapid-fire questions. God, the woman had backbone. He wondered how many men had seen only the petite, well-curved package and not bothered to discover the interesting woman underneath all the silk and lace and bows. He'd lay down money that her curves owed precious little to a corset.
Business. Clearing his throat, Jackson rose and put the correspondence back into the valise. “The first order of business needs to be a full accounting. I need to see a list of all the property owned by the company. For each property, I'll need its estimated pre-Panic and current value as well as a profit-and-loss statement. Where do I get my hands on that information?”
“At the office,” she replied, rising smoothly. “Benjamin keeps the accounts and he's very thorough. May I accompany you?”
He cocked a brow. “You're asking for permission?”
“You haven't defined the manner in which you expect me to conduct myself.”
He was being baited and he knew it, but it was ground they needed to cover anyway. “Are you planning to legally oppose your father's Will?”
She smiled ruefully. “Have you ever heard the expression ‘cutting off one's nose to spite one's face'?” When henodded, she further explained, “Since it would cost more in legal fees
“And there's more.”
He looked up to see Lindsay in the doorway, her shoulder against the jamb and her arms folded over her midriff. “How much more?” he asked, tossing the letters aside.
“There was a run, five weeks ago, on the Two Rivers Bank in Frankfort, Kentucky. We had to close the doors when the money ran out. We're trying to call in the outstanding loans to meet depositor demands, but it's trickling at best.” She smiled tightly. “And then there's the Macon and Charlotte Road Company, which encountered a not-so-dry creek bed and is having to be rerouted. The investors have been asked to put in another ten thousand apiece. We're in for twenty-five thousand already.”
Jackson sagged back into the chair. Deciding he could only take the bull by the horns, he asked, “What's the total net worth of the MacPhaull Company? In today's market.”
“In today's market and under today's circumstances …” She shrugged. “If you were going to sell off everything by sundown, I'd guess that you'd net something in the realm of two hundred thousand dollars. That would include both houses—Henry's and this one—and all the personal property. And, of course, it's assuming that you can find buyers for any of it.”
It was a huge assumption. One he wasn't willing to make. “What was the estimated value of total assets before the Panic?”
“Close to seven hundred thousand,” she supplied, coming into the room. She took the seat directly across the desk from him and added, “Our biggest single income source isthe mining operation in western Virginia. It's the most reliable as well. If you're willing to consider advice, I think it would be worth whatever it costs to put it back into operation.”
Jackson pulled the letter from the mine manager from the stack and considered the figures. “Is this man, Snyder, pretty accurate in his estimates?”
“I usually add another twenty percent and come closer than he does.”
“Have you got the forty-eight thousand to put it back to rights?”
“Not in hand. But we can come up with it if we sell off some properties. Richard and I were discussing the possibilities when you and Mr. Vanderhagen arrived.”
Jackson studied her, not making any effort to conceal the appraisal. She met it just as squarely as she'd answered his rapid-fire questions. God, the woman had backbone. He wondered how many men had seen only the petite, well-curved package and not bothered to discover the interesting woman underneath all the silk and lace and bows. He'd lay down money that her curves owed precious little to a corset.
Business. Clearing his throat, Jackson rose and put the correspondence back into the valise. “The first order of business needs to be a full accounting. I need to see a list of all the property owned by the company. For each property, I'll need its estimated pre-Panic and current value as well as a profit-and-loss statement. Where do I get my hands on that information?”
“At the office,” she replied, rising smoothly. “Benjamin keeps the accounts and he's very thorough. May I accompany you?”
He cocked a brow. “You're asking for permission?”
“You haven't defined the manner in which you expect me to conduct myself.”
He was being baited and he knew it, but it was ground they needed to cover anyway. “Are you planning to legally oppose your father's Will?”
She smiled ruefully. “Have you ever heard the expression ‘cutting off one's nose to spite one's face'?” When henodded, she further explained, “Since it would cost more in legal fees
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