CHAPTER 3

The early morning church bells rang out over Charleston, their rhythmic chimes a familiar part of Sunday mornings in the Holy City.

Every fifteen minutes, another church added its tune to the medley. Mixed with the chirping of seagulls, the sound created the perfect backdrop for the historic city. For Joe Hennessy, the bells were more than just a melody; they were a part of his childhood, a constant in the streets of the peninsula, and the soundtrack to his youth.

Joe walked in quiet reflection, one hand in his pocket and the other holding his wife Wendy’s. Together, they strolled around Colonial Lake, basking in the warmth of the morning sun that lit up Charleston in a soft, golden glow. Away from the tourist hubs, Colonial Lake offered a peaceful oasis near the Ashley River, framed by mature trees, manicured bushes, and lush green grass. The air carried the sweet scent of wisteria while birds chirped and ducks waddled by. Locals, enjoying the calm morning, exchanged friendly smiles. In such serene surroundings, it was almost impossible not to smile.

“It’s a lot of money, Joe,”

Wendy said as she held onto her husband’s hand. “It’s enough to clear the arrears on the bank loan, and it’d put us in front of the payments. We’d be comfortable on the vineyard, and with a few great seasons, we might even own it outright one day.”

Wendy Hennessy came from a great South Carolina family, one that had been in the state since her forefathers first arrived in 1795. While Joe worked in Charleston, she ran the operations at the vineyard, a two-hour drive away. She always enjoyed returning to her home city, spending time with her husband, and catching up with old friends over coffee.

“Before we can even start thinking about the money, I need to win the case first.”

“Even the retainer would clear the arrears and put us in front of the loan.”

“It’s going to get messy. Palin has dangerous connections, and if I lose, it could cost more than the vineyard.”

He squeezed Wendy’s hand and gave her a reassuring smile. “But I don’t plan on losing.”

“Stay safe,”

Wendy said, her voice warm but with a flicker of concern. She tilted her head, studying Joe as if memorizing the moment. “You’re not twenty-five anymore. You’re much too old for trouble. The loans aren’t worth your life.”

“I was speaking to a friend who recently took out a loan for an exorcism.”

Joe tried not to smile, but his dimples gave him away. “She was told if she doesn’t repay the loan, she’ll get repossessed.”

“That’s a terrible joke,”

Wendy grinned. “Do you remember when we first signed the loan, and we asked the lender what the costs would be? He said, ‘our sanity.’ And how right he was. We’ve been fortunate to have the vineyard for twenty years and raise our daughters there, but it’s ok if the dream is over.”

“I’m not willing to give up on it yet,”

Joe changed the conversation. “Have you heard from Casey?”

“Every day,”

Wendy smiled. “I love getting her calls in the mornings.”

“She’s been sending me a message every day as well. We’ve talked a few evenings, and she seems to be settling in.”

Only a month earlier, Casey had moved out of the family home at the vineyard to attend Clemson University. She was studying Agriculture Sciences on-campus, and while it was exciting for her to spread her wings away from home, she was missing time with her mother. The drive to Clemson was only an hour from the vineyard, just enough for her to feel free but still have the safety of home nearby.

“Can you believe she’s at college, and Ellie is about to finish her undergraduate degree?”

Wendy smiled. “They’ve grown up so fast. Our girls are now young women.”

“One is studying law, and the other is studying agriculture with an interest in vineyards. We’ve certainly inspired them,”

Joe smiled. “I’m so proud of them.”

“As am I,”

Wendy sighed a little. “But it feels strange. The whole empty nest thing. It’d be nice if you were there. It’s like having someone in your house for almost two decades, and then, with a snap of the fingers, they’re gone. I’m so proud of our girls but I miss them so much.”

Joe hated he wasn’t there for Wendy as their daughters left home. While he made the drive Upstate most weekends, he hated he wasn’t there for the day-to-day transition to the empty nest. He wanted to be there for Wendy, support her, and love her through the difficult times. “I’ll be there soon,”

Joe reassured her. “And then we can build the next chapter of our lives.”

“Which, hopefully, involves grandchildren at some point.”

“Think Ellie will come back to South Carolina?”

“Absolutely.”

Wendy gripped his hand tighter. “She always wanted to spread her wings and explore the world, and her years in New York have given her that. But while there are parts of the city she likes, the hustle and bustle of big city life is too much for her. Our girls are Southern girls. They love the open air, the mountains, and the slower pace of life. They’ve spent their entire lives here, and they’re starting to realize how lucky they are.”

A young woman walking five dogs passed them, scrolling on her cell phone, the leads attached to her waist. Wendy stopped to pat one of the dogs, and Joe patted another. They chatted with the young woman, who explained she was a dog walker for some of the locals nearby. They talked about the dogs, about the beautiful morning, and about the beautiful smells in the air before they wished each other a good day.

“What are the chances of winning the case?”

Wendy’s smile was broad, lifted by her interaction with the happy dogs.

“The State has a strong case. From an accounting point of view, Palin was caught with his hand deep inside the cookie jar. Our strongest hopes would be to either find a hole in the charges or suggest someone else had the opportunity and motive to do it.”

“And if he’s guilty of stealing money from a children’s charity foundation?”

Joe took a few moments to answer. “My job isn’t to defend the innocent. My job is to defend everyone’s constitutional right to a fair trial.”

“Joseph Hennessy, don’t you dare spin me a media line.”

Wendy’s tone was firm. “My question was, how would you feel if he admitted he stole from a children’s charity foundation?”

“I’d feel terrible,”

Joe conceded.

“And you don’t think Palin’s connections will save him?”

“For decades, Palin did the accounting for some of the most influential people in this town, and he knows more secrets than most, but his influence has waned as most of those powerful people have retired, passed away, or moved on. His connections didn’t stop the prosecution from charging him. That shows how little influence he has now.”

“If a man like Palin is going down, he’ll go down swinging hard.”

Joe nodded. He knew Wendy was right—there would be danger ahead. But if he wanted to save the vineyard from the banks, if he wanted to retire from law, it was the path he had to take.