Texas Gal-Chapter Fifty-One-I See Rough Seas Ahead, Captain! By C.Sprite Posted By Permission By Stanman63! Synopsis:David is a young boy who is forcibly introduced to cross-dressing by his sisters, and their friends. The experience quickly changes his life, as he discovers what has been missing in his short life, for so long.

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By Thursday I was so bored that I was ready to call Captain O'Toole and tell him that I wanted to go home immediately, but– I had announced that I would be at the Friday meeting. It was only one more day, I told myself sadly. A few minutes after eleven a.m., as I sat looking through trade mags, I received a call. I picked up the receiver hoping that it might be Marty from Hollis Homes, but it turned out to only be Terrance Stillworth from Georgia. I was surprised. I thought the deal was dead. Apparently Stillworth was more anxious to sell than I'd thought. Such insight never failed to quicken my pulse.

"Good morning, Mr. Stillworth," I said cordially as Nancy put the call through.

"Good morning, Miss Drake. Do you still have an interest in the boxing equipment we have for sale?"

"I'm still interested in procuring single-color box making equipment, but I haven't changed my mind about the value of your equipment. I won't pay $50,000 for equipment so badly damaged as yours appears to be."

"I've spoken to the plant manager about your offer. He needs the storage space that the machinery is taking up, but he's unwilling to sell it at the price you quoted. He says, and I quote, 'I'll stick it out in the back lot and let it rust before I accept a penny less than $15 thousand.'"

"So you're offering it for $15 thousand?" I asked calmly.

"Yes. We want to be rid of it, but we know it has at least that value."

I didn't respond for a few seconds, while I wondered if they needed the space desperately enough to accept less money despite their assertion that they wouldn't take less. They had called me, after all, and they were asking exactly double my last offer. They might be happy to settle for $10 thousand. John had wanted me to offer $100 thousand, so he obviously felt the value was there. I had just made up my mind when Mr. Stillworth said, "Are you still there, Miss Drake?"

"Yes, Mr. Stillworth. I'm thinking. I'd really love to have seen the equipment spread out in the yard to assess exactly how much damage your people did to it when cramming it into that storage area. Have you happened to view it since I was there?"

"Yes, I did. After you left, I went out there. I wanted to see for myself what kind of condition it was in. I do have to admit that they could have been more careful."

"Well, Mr. Stillworth. I suppose I'll take a chance. It's unlikely they could have destroyed it completely. Since the machines are all the same make and model, we should be able to use parts and pieces from the more seriously damaged machines to make the lesser damaged machines operational again. You have a deal, Mr. Stillworth. We'll pay you $15 thousand for the lot. I'll make arrangements to have it picked up next week. Please don't let your loading dock people move any of it again."

"They won't, Miss Drake. It's been a pleasure doing business with you. I'll look forward to hearing from your people. Good day."
"Good day, Mr. Stillworth."

'Well, John will be happy,' I thought as I hung up the phone.

The Friday meeting only lasted until lunch was over. Neither Gerard nor Ron attended, having been there for the previous meeting. Little had happened during the week to discuss, but as always, Bob gave us an encapsulated view of the health of Piermont, and then each VP gave a summary of the situation in his area of responsibility and expressed his views on events. John was excited about getting the box making equipment and immediately began to look forward to the effort of getting it operating. Bob would make arrangements for tractor trailers and John would head for Georgia with a couple of his guys to supervise the removal of the equipment from the storage building and the loading of the trailers. They would then fly on ahead and be waiting at Houston when the trucks arrived. I informed the attendees of my negotiations with Martin Llewellyn and that we're currently three million dollars apart, with the last movement being mine.

When everyone had gone, I called the pilots to inform them I was ready to leave, then called Earl. As I climbed into the limo I couldn't suppress my excitement and happiness at being on my way home. Earl even commented on my smile as he held the door for me. By my estimation, we were a third of the way to the ranch when I received a call from Nancy, the executive suite receptionist and secretary at Brandon.

"Hello, Miss Drake," she said. "There's a Mr. Martin Llewellyn, the CEO of Hollis Homes, on the line. After I told him that you'd be away for several weeks, he said that it's important that he speak to you now.

"Okay, Nancy. I'll speak with him. Put him through."

If Marty couldn't wait three weeks to speak with me, he must be more anxious to close the deal than I thought. It gave me serious bargaining leverage. I felt my pulse quickening again, but I kept my voice level.

"DD?"

"Hello, Marty. How are you today?"

"Fine. Uh, we have a poor connection. It's a little noisy."

"I'm speaking to you from my plane. I believe that we're somewhere over Ohio right now at about thirty thousand feet."

"Are you on your way to look at Abacor Shingle Manufacturing in Joplin."

"Well, I think I did mention that I was going to examine the plants of other available roofing materials producers since we didn't seem destined to reach an agreement on price."

"Perhaps that won't be necessary. The Board met last night and empowered me to reduce the price if you're still interested."

"I'm still interested in acquiring plants that produce asphalt roofing materials, if the price is right. Does Whorton Manufacturing fall inside that parameter?"

"Let me summarize the situation after our last contact. We were looking for $22 million, and I made you an offer of 21.5 million. You offered $18.5 million. Being $3 million apart, the Board agreed to split the difference and offer the company for $20 million."

At $20 million, the company was a much better deal than before, but I wondered if there was still room to play. I didn't really need the company after all; at least not nearly as much as they needed to sell. And I had Marty believing that I was on my way to examine another plant, which might lead to my losing interest in acquiring Whorton.

"I admit that you've made it a little more palatable, Marty. Perhaps after I check out the Abacor and GRP plants I'll have more interest. I did appreciate the condition of the two plants owned by Whorton, and I'm sure that the others won't be in better condition, but their asking price is considerably lower."
"Would you at least like to make a counter offer that I can take to the Board?"

That told me there was more room for negotiation.

"I'll raise my offer to $19 million, but– that's the best I can do. As I said, I was impressed with the quality of your plant maintenance. That's the only reason I'm willing to go above the $28 million dollars, which includes the $10 million in assumable debt, that we originally established as our top offer."
"I'm sure that if you could come up another $500 thousand, I could convince the Board to meet your offer."

"If things don't work out with Abacor and GRP, perhaps I'll consider it."

"I've toured the Abacor plant, DD. I can promise you that you won't be as satisfied with their level of plant maintenance."

"Perhaps not, but the difference in acquisition cost can rectify that. They're only asking $10 million, and I'm reasonably certain that they're not expecting to actually get that much. I've established the value of both the Abacor and the GRP plants at $8 million each. If I then upgrade the plant equipment at each plant by $5 million, as Whorton did at each of their plants, the total expenditure will be just $26 million. The main difference is that the upgrade is complete at Whorton and the production lines are running smoothly. I'm willing to pay the $3 million difference for that, but I can't see paying more than that." I didn't mention that Whorton had a larger and well established client base, better manufacturing locations, and room for expansion at each plant location.

"Do you always establish a price before you examine a property?"

"Yes, I do. If the asking price is too far out of line with my initial estimate based on our preliminary investigation, I don't even bother looking at the property. Of course I can always revise the top offer based on what I see. Sometimes it goes up, but usually it's pretty accurate and I hold firm."

"I've heard rumors that you never visit a plant without knowing the facts as well as the seller."

"My grandmother taught me that I must know the facts about my competitor's business as well as I know my own. My people are the very best at putting together information about an offered property– and the company or individual that owns it."

"Are you implying that you investigated Hollis Homes?"

"It's only good business, Marty. There are often reasons for selling that the seller isn't willing to immediately divulge. Knowing them helps me make a decision about the offered property."

"And what have you determined about Hollis Homes?"

"You know what I've found," I said placidly. "You've received all the approvals to begin construction of your new plant, but it's mid-June and you haven't broken ground yet. Your predecessor ran around spending money like a drunken sailor on shore leave after a year at sea. You're meeting all your current financial obligations in a timely fashion and your core business is rock solid, but– the lending institutions don't feel you can carry any more large debt. And they're right! Dumping Whorton will clear up a lot of the outstanding stuff and allow you start construction. Then you'll be able to secure new funding to complete the plant, if building the plant is still in your plans."

"We still intend to build the plant."

"Then selling Whorton will allow you accomplish that. If you don't sell Whorton, you'll have to sit on your hands while your permits expire, requiring you to start the whole process over again when you finally raise the necessary capital, unless you can sell one of the other businesses Hollis owns, and sell it quick. The reason you didn't start paying down the principal of the loan to Whorton was because you needed the money to pay Hollis' debts. It was an accounting thing, but not the way you implied it to me."

I heard Marty chuckle. "The rumors are true. You do your homework."

"I find it saves time in the long run. When someone attempts to prevaricate, I'm in a position to call them on it immediately."

"But you didn't say anything to me about knowing why we weren't paying down the debt?"

"There was no need," I said. "We were too far apart at that time. I decided that there were other plants available and allowed that Whorton could be removed from serious consideration."

"And you're still not willing to meet me at $19.5 million."

"No, I'm not. I'm already a million over the $28 million value we established early on."

"Very well," he said. "I was hoping to finalize this today."

"Perhaps we can still find a common meeting point if I don't acquire the Abacor and GRP plants. I'll be out of the country for a few weeks, so you won't be able to contact me for a while."

"Is Piermont going international?"

"Ameri-Moore is already international, and has been for decades, but until now my Piermont Division had plenty of room to grow at home. We have seventy plants in the U.S. now and the time might be right for us to turn our attention to overseas markets. If I find the right deal, there's nothing to stop me."
"I wish you luck. It's sometimes difficult to deal with foreign governments."

"Perhaps it's simply just a matter of finding the right people to manage abroad; the ones with the right contacts in the proper circles."

"That could make an important difference."

"Well, it's been nice chatting with you again, Marty. Perhaps we'll talk again in the future."

"Okay, DD. Have a good trip. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

I don't know why I allowed Marty to think that Piermont was going international. I suppose that by allowing him to think I was going to be spending a lot of money abroad, he'd feel that there might not be enough left of our procurement funds to buy Wharton. I would have to seriously consider his latest offer. Wharton would be a good deal at $19.5 million. I wasn't sure why I continued to push for a better price on every deal. Perhaps I had started to enjoy the game too much. Was I letting myself get carried away to the point that I would allow a good deal to slip through my fingers just to keep the game from ending? Or did I subconsciously know that Marty wouldn't let go of the first serious prospect they'd found to purchase the company after a year of looking? If they didn't get the land cleared and the foundation in before the ground froze, they wouldn't be able to continue work on their new plant through the winter. It was a small point, but I felt a valid one.

We were probably over Illinois when I received another call. It was Marty again.

"Hi, Marty," I said, as Nancy connected the call.

"Hi DD. Have you reached Missouri yet?"

"No, I think we're over Illinois."

"Good. I've consulted with a few of the more powerful and involved Board members about your offer. We've decided to accept the $19 million for Wharton. You, of course, accept full responsibility for the $10 million outstanding note on their books."

"You're sure that the Board members you spoke to can speak for the others?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay, Marty. You have a deal. I'll call my office and start the ball rolling from our end."

"Will we have to wait until you return from your overseas trip? We'd love to begin construction on the new plant as soon as possible."

"No. I'll send you three copies of a letter of intent immediately. As soon as you return two signed copies, my attorneys and accountants will begin to prepare the formal transfer paperwork. If you need immediate cash, I'm sure that you'll be able to find a lending institution that will give you a bridge loan once they confirm the pending sale of Whorton through my Executive VP, Robert Warren. I'll be back in time to sign the paperwork for the loans from our bank and complete the sale."

"Wonderful. You're getting a good deal, you know. Whorton has been a solid performer for us."

"That's the way we see it, also. It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Marty. You have a nice weekend."

"Thank you. I will now. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

As I opened my briefcase and began filling out the copies of the letter of intent I felt like I owned Boardwalk and Park Place with hotels on each, and my gaming opponent had just landed sequentially on both. I had gotten a property that I had gone after, and then negotiated the price down by three million dollars. Three million dollars! That was half a million more than I had paid for Piermont Paper when I began the Paper Division four years ago. The only problem was– I could already feel the adrenaline rush beginning to wear off.

I had copies of all the paperwork with me for the Whorton offer so I found the address where I should send the letter of intent, but I had no way of sending it. If I wanted to send it from the ranch, a courier would have to come all the way down from Dallas. I walked forward and asked the copilot where we were. When he pointed out our position on his CG-20 World Aeronautical Chart, I asked Captain O'Toole to divert to Jefferson City. The office building we had acquired from Mo Paper was only minutes from the airport. It was mostly empty, but we still had small staffs there in sales and various accounting functions. The close proximity of the office building to the paper plant, meant that almost all office functions, such as those related to payroll, personnel, paper shipments, invoicing, and materials receiving, had been handled at the office building, and still were.

I called Nancy in Vermont and asked her to arrange to have someone pick me up at the airport in Jefferson City and bring me to the office building. I also asked her to arrange for a courier to come to the office building there and pick up a letter for delivery to Hollis Homes corporate offices in Tampa, Florida. Lastly I asked her if Mr. Warren was still at the office. When she said he was, I asked her to connect me to his office.

"DD?" I heard as the connection went through. "I thought you were headed home?"

"I am, but Martin Llewellyn kept calling and Nancy called me on the plane. I made an agreement to buy Whorton. I'll be stopping at Jefferson City to send the letter of intent to Hollis Homes corporate offices."

"Did we get our price?"

"We agreed on $19 million."

"Terrific. I don't think we can go wrong for that."

"Llewellyn will return the forms to you as soon as possible because he's anxious to begin construction on his new plant. After you confirm that no changes have been made, send a notarized copy back to him. You may be contacted by his lending institution to confirm the deal so he can get the money he needs for construction. I'll be back before the formal transfer is made so I can sign for the bank note then. You'll have to arrange the usual transition team stuff, but everything should be straightforward. After I get back we'll discuss management and coordination of the plants with the Jamestown plant. I guess that's all, Bob."

"Okay, boss. I'll handle it. Have a great vacation. See you in a few weeks."

"Thanks, Bob. See you then."

When I deplaned at JC, I found Ian Thorehill waiting for me.

"Zit, I didn't want to drag you away from your plant," I said.

"When I heard you were coming, I wouldn't let anyone else have the honor," he said. "Where to, the plant?"

"The office building. I need to send a letter via courier. My secretary should have made the arrangements. I just have to wait until he or she arrives."

"Your chariot awaits, my lady," he said, gesturing towards his car.

"How are things going here?" I asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Wonderful. Except for a little grousing from some of the employees who would rather be working in their home towns, everything is great."

"At least they have jobs. It's the best I can do for them right now."

"I know. And most are appreciative, but people are people after all. A couple of the more vocal ones are calling for a strike to shut this plant down until the plant in their home town is reopened."

"I hadn't heard that."

"I haven't told Gerard yet. I've been trying to quell the situation, but most of the employees here are from the four former Mo Paper plants that are still closed. The agitators seem to be gaining momentum."

"If they manage to close this plant, they'll accomplish nothing. We wouldn't have to reopen the plants in their home towns. We have too much unused capacity right now. We're only operating at 52% of full capacity. Franklin has three machines that haven't been started up since they were overhauled, and we could have them in full operation within a couple of days. With Franklin producing paper at maximum, and another shift added to just one of the other big plants, we could out produce this plant easily. All a wildcat strike will accomplish is to deprive the families of the employees here of their paycheck."

Ian sighed. "I know. But sometimes people can be so damn pig-headed. I need only look at my own extended family to know that. I hope that the talk is just that, and that saner minds will prevail."

"Yes, let's hope it's just talk. But– better inform Gerard anyway."

"Okay, DD."

The office building in JC was four stories of gleaming mirror glass that reflected the sky and surrounding terrain. Viewed from the right angles, it almost seemed to disappear. It was only three years old now, having been built at the same time as the new paper plant. Ian pulled up in front and parked in the spot marked 'President.' Someone had painted over Roy Blu's name, but the black letters were still perceivable through the single layer of white paint.

"Do you have to get back," I asked, "or would you like to come in?"

"Everything is running so smoothly, they won't even know I'm not there."

"Good. Come in then. We can talk while I wait for the courier."

The security guard in the entrance foyer braced to attention and saluted me sharply as we entered. Using his left arm to point, he said, "The elevators are straight ahead, Miss Drake. You'll be met on the top floor."

Although the guards always saluted the limo when I entered the grounds of any of our plants, I had never been saluted in person before. I was unsure what to do so I nodded, smiled, and thanked him as we continued past. Both elevators were waiting with their doors open. Ian tapped the fourth floor button as we stepped into the one on the left. I noticed there was a B button also. I hadn't realized there was a basement in this building. When the doors opened on the top floor, a young woman was waiting there to greet us.

"Good afternoon, Miss Drake, Mr. Thorehill," she said. Gesturing to her right, she added, "Your office is this way, ma'am."

We followed her down several long corridors to a door with gleaming, raised brass letters that spelled 'President.' Inside, we found an outer office with a secretarial desk and eight chairs for waiting visitors. Continuing through, we found an office at least twice the size of my office in Brandon. Roy Blu certainly hadn't been stingy with the floor space. There was a large outside deck at the corner of the building, accessible only from sliding doors in this office, and windows that looked out both south and west.

"Thank you," I said to the woman who had escorted us. "What's your name and your job title?"

"I'm Ellen DeFranco. I'm the executive floor receptionist. I sit out at the counter that faces the elevators. I'm the only one still left on this floor. Can I get you anything?"

"If you have them, I'd like a cup of tea, cream or milk, and honey."

"Black or herbal tea?"

"Black."

"And you, Mr. Thorehill?"

"Coffee, cream and sugar, please."

"I'll be right back," she said as she left the office.

I walked to Roy Blu's enormous desk and set my briefcase down to remove the two sealed envelopes; one was addressed to Hollis Homes, and the other to Bob Warren. He would need an original copy to insure that Hollis Homes didn't make any changes to the three copies I was sending to them. They would keep one and return the other two notarized forms for our signatures and notarization. The third copy would let them compare the notarized copy when it was returned to them so they'd know that we hadn't made any changes during the time we had it.

"You stopped here just to meet a courier?" Ian asked.

"It's important, and if I waited until I get back to the ranch, someone would have to come all the way down from Dallas. We were practically over-flying JC anyway."

Ellen returned with the tea and coffee, and a small dish of chocolate chips cookies. After she had gone, and we had fixed our beverages, Ian and I talked about his challenges with the temporary workers in JC until the courier arrived.

With my business completed, Ian drove me back to the airport. I had called the pilots before we left the office building and the jet was warming up when we arrived. Ten minutes later we were airborne again for the ranch.

Susan and Ricardo came down to the runway to help me with my bags. Judy had reported to her new job and wasn't home, although she'd be back sometime tonight to travel to the Riviera with us. Mary had likewise gone to her summer job and would be home tonight. Auntie would be home in time for dinner.
"You arrived home early, dear," Mother said, as we sat down to eat dinner an hour later.

"It was a slow week and the Friday meeting ended early," I said.

"You couldn't find any new companies to buy this trip?" Susan asked facetiously.

"Just a small one with two plants," I said. "We need them to bolster our roofing products operations because our plant in Jamestown is doing so well. We didn't want to risk not being able to meet our commitments for product. Once the new plants are integrated into our system, the temporary loss of a manufacturing line at one of the plants won't drop us behind the eight ball."

"How much did you spend this time?" she asked.

"We only have to lay out $19 million initially, but the company is carrying $10 million in debt, so the full price is $29 million. The parent was carrying it on their books as being valued at $36 million, but they need cash for an expansion program in another area, so I got it at a good price. The two plants are profitable from day one, and will pay all interest expense on the debt as they pay off the loans. If we can increase sales and production, we can turn a nice profit besides."

"Why so much debt?" Auntie asked.

"When the parent purchased them, they replaced much of the manufacturing equipment with new. It's been kept in excellent condition and we should have years without a serious problem. When you calculate in the fact that the parent depreciated the new equipment as quickly as possible, the bottom line looks even better. "

"Thirty-six million dollars," Susan said, shaking her head.

"Only twenty-nine million dollars," I said, grinning. "The other seven million is the initial gravy."

As we prepared for bed later, Susan brought up the subject of the two roofing material plants again.

"How many plants does that make now?" she asked.

"Seventy-two, counting paper, cardboard, business forms, sawmills, and roofing products. I just updated my map again. After acquiring the former South-Core properties, I changed the regional alignment slightly. The old boundaries were primarily established to delineate sales territories, and I altered them for regional administration when the need arose to establish regional boundaries. This change evens out the territory size and therefore the management responsibility in each region. The new boundary is close to parallel 36 ° 30', so where the states of Virginia and West Virginia were once part of the Southeast region, they're now part of the Northeast region.

"After I get back, I'm going to formally create a sub-division for Roofing Materials. I should probably do the same for Business Forms. That will mean two more VP positions, but each group has three plants now and there should be someone concentrating a hundred percent of their effort towards growing those product areas. And we've gotten so big that I feel I should create a VP position for the Northeast to relieve the pressure on Bob Warren. He's handling the duties of Executive VP, which means that when I'm at school he does everything I should be doing, while also managing the region and the Brandon plant, but he doesn't want to give up any of the jobs. I think that I'm going to insist he at least give up day to day responsibility for Brandon, and appoint a plant manager there. One person can only handle so much effectively."

"You seem to be doing okay."

"Me?" I said with a chuckle. "Suz, I don't do anything except create problems for my people by acquiring new plants. They have to do the work of first integrating them, and then getting them running efficiently. I'm lucky to have so many great people. They make me look like a genius."

"When are you going to stop?"

"Stop? You mean stop growing?" When she nodded I said, "I suppose when we're as big as Alliance." Grinning at her, I added, "So I only need about three-hundred-thirty more locations worldwide."

"Are you serious?"

"No," I said, grinning. "It's never been my goal to surpass Alliance, GP, or anyone else. I was just concerned with building a division that would be a credit to Ameri-Moore. Things have moved along a lot faster than I ever dreamed. You were there at the beginning, so you know what I'm talking about. Remember our first 'master plan,' and how it didn't survive even a full year because we achieved all our goals so quickly? I was thinking about my involvement last weekend. I believe the division has expanded so quickly because I didn't have any other real duties. I could spend all my time building the company because my people handled all the day to day stuff. Since I was also going to school, I had to move quickly while I was on holiday or vacation. I don't know if I was driving events, or if they were driving me."

"I think we can pretty safely say that you were in the driver's seat;" Susan said, grinning, "the driver's seat of a runaway bus. Like you said, I was there at the beginning."

"I was doing the steering, as far as the division went, but these terrific deals kept popping up in front of me like frightened pedestrians. People kept sending me offers I couldn't ignore, and my managers kept rebuilding the businesses to where they should have been before I purchased them. As we grew, economies of scale gave us an increasing edge over smaller companies, which allowed us to flourish. If I didn't have so many wonderful people, I'd probably still be struggling to make the Brandon plant profitable." I sighed. "Those days might be over now. If I was boat captain, I'd say I sense serious weather ahead."
"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Just that a number of serious problems are beginning to surface. We commissioned an engineering survey of our plants to see which might be susceptible to flooding. We know that Mother Nature may one day open her bag of nasty tricks so wide that dams and flood control measures are unable to cope with the deluge. Although flooding by the Mississippi, Missouri, and Ohio Rivers, probably present the greatest threats, any river or tributary can overflow its banks during times of great rainfalls, or even dam collapse. We've been assured that most of our plants are safe, barring a flood that causes us to begin building arks, but four are potentially vulnerable, although only in extreme conditions. Right now, those four plants are closed, and have been since we acquired them in the Mo Paper deal. If we upgrade those plants with new or at least new-er equipment, we'll have to build a levee of some sort around them to protect them and our finished products.

"As part of the same contract, the engineering firm worked to design a sediment pool system for each plant location, and an expandable filtration system that will remove the heaviest concentrations of contaminants before the water is returned to the environment. The cost of the survey and construction plans was high, but the cost of actually building the pools and filtration systems for all fifty-one of the fifty-two paper plants that don't presently have them will be astronomical. It has to be done though, so Bob Warren will be soliciting bids from contractors to build the first ten. Brandon, Greenfield, Gorham, Concord, Norridgewock, Millinocket, Franklin, Owosso, Asheville, and Evansville should begin construction as soon as the weather breaks next spring. Our goal is to complete ten each year."

"Do you think that the construction schedule of only ten each year will allow you keep ahead of your acquisition schedule," Susan asked facetiously.
I shrugged my shoulders and replied in the same tone. "It's a start." Returning to my train of thought I said, "Then there's the matter of the fifteen plants in the northwest. I acquired most of them just to spit in the eye of Robert De Forest. He contacted me after I bought the first four plants and said that they've always considered everything west of the Mississippi to be in Alliance's backyard; the implication being that they didn't like anyone else playing there. I mentioned that neither Owosso nor Appalachian were west of the Mississippi, but he ignored the fact that Alliance had twice tried, unsuccessfully, to expand into the east. Then they instituted a pricing structure designed to kill off all the remaining competition in the Northwest, including us. Our size allows us to run the plants at lower operating costs than the independents because of volume buying with chips, chemicals, and other supplies. We break even while selling at prices that would eventually bankrupt an independent.

"I decided that if we have to operate four plants without making a profit, we could just as well operate a dozen without making a profit. Plus I figured it was the only way to bring things to a head. Fewer independent plants mean fewer targets for Alliance and less reason to prolong a price war. Alliance had so undermined the small independents that I was able to pick up the plants at a third their value. I've felt a little guilty for taking advantage, but the owners made out better by selling to me than letting the banks foreclose on delinquent notes or selling to Alliance at the price they were offering. Every one received at least a million more than Alliance would have given them. We got a hundred fifty million in assets for less than fifty million, but it'll cost us fifty million to build sediment pools and filtrations plants for each location at a time when we're barely able to cover normal operating expenses and payments on the debt we incurred to procure the plants, so they could potentially become a severe drain on the division. Lastly, my JC plant manager told me today that his employees are talking wildcat strike. They seem to believe that if they shut down the plant there, they can dictate policy to me regarding which other plants I operate."

"No!"

"Yes."

"Can they do that?" Susan asked.

"Workers can always go on strike; they're employees, not slaves. But the only thing the JC employees will accomplish is the closure of the JC plant and the loss of their jobs. We have plenty of paper making capacity. In fact we have too much. We've grown far faster than our sales people can find new customers."
"Then closing that plant might be a good thing," Susan said.

"From that one perspective perhaps, but JC is our newest plant, and its equipment is the most automated and most cost efficient to operate. It's also the only one with pollution controls already in place." I paused to sigh. "Oh, I don't know. I probably shouldn't be burdening you with these problems."
"What do you intend to do?"

"I intend to enjoy the few days we have left before we head for France by riding every day and studying the language records at night," I said smiling.
"I mean about Piermont," Susan said scowling.

"I'm going to do my best to forget about business until we return. I just hope that things remain stable while we're away. Last year South-Core released that press statement while we were away."

"Have they caused you any problems lately," she asked.

"They've been quiet– which might mean that they're up to something, or might mean they've finally decided to avoid targeting Piermont. I won't know until they either act, or I hear something from my investigator. I warned them when I took away their forestland and ten best plants that if I had to deal with them again, I wouldn't let them off so easy. I just hope they got the message. I've got too many other things to worry about."

As planned, I rode every morning for the next four days, never alone, and Judy, Mary, Susan, and I spent each night together reviewing the French language course.

On Wednesday, Grandma came over with Charles and her personal secretary. They arrived at noon so we were able to enjoy a leisurely lunch together before assembling our luggage on the tarmac by the hanger. Mother and Auntie had given Rosa and Ricardo their instructions and contact numbers, so when the jet arrived, we were ready to climb aboard. Once our luggage was stowed aboard, and we had given the pilots the pies and cakes we had baked for them, we took our seats in preparation for the takeoff. I was very afraid that this might be our last summer vacation together, but I suppressed my anxieties and put on my best smile. We waved to Rosa and Ricardo as the jet applied power and we climbed into the skies.

We stopped to refuel in Nova Scotia before making the jump over the Atlantic, then refueled again in Scotland. The jet touched down in France early in the morning.

As always, the first day was devoted to catching up on our sleep and getting our internal clocks reset. We awoke in late afternoon and enjoyed a delightful breakfast before settling onto the veranda to watch the sunset. Mostly for Grandma's benefit, we rehashed events at our respective divisions, with most of the time being devoted to a discussion of my problems since I had been until now the most active with the companies. Grandma nodded while I related recent events, and asked for clarifying information a couple of times, but refrained from offering any suggestions or advice. I knew that her silence meant she basically approved of my actions. Grandma never hesitated to offer guidance when she felt we needed it, nor praise when she felt we deserved it. Following the acquisition of the South-Core properties in September, her praise had been overwhelming. So I supposed that her silence now meant that she held certain reservations about my current management of Piermont. If she had any concerns, they had to be about my aggressive approach to the situation with Alliance. I considered bluntly asking her what she thought, but then decided not to. Grandma had a reason for every action, and if she felt that she should remain silent now, that's the way she would remain. Asking for her thoughts would give her the impression that I was feeling insecure about my position, and that wasn't really the case. I mentally shrugged off the feeling.

We arose early in the morning and headed down to the beach right after breakfast. After slathering on an abundance of suntan protection, we lay down to catch a few rays. Grandma, as always, sequestered herself beneath a large umbrella near Mother and Auntie.

With each passing hour, an increasing number of boys set up their blankets nearby. They never approached us, perhaps because Grandma was so close, but when we decided to take a dip, it seemed like half the beach emptied into the Mediterranean. At seventeen, I'm the youngest, but Susan, who looks every bit of eighteen, actually appears like the baby of the family. We all have the bodies of adult women, and I could tell that our admirers were hopeful of exploring hidden assets. Mine, at least, will remain hidden for now. Only one thing about me was inconsistent with the rest of my appearance, but that was enough to ensure my chastity.

Mary and Judy were almost shameless with their flirting, while Susan and I remained a bit more reserved. With a few boys that seemed to increase their fervor. I suppose they were the type that like girls with 'hard to get' attitudes. Mom gave us a lot more latitude than in previous years, and never once called us to the blankets where she and Grandma were reclining. I suppose that she finally felt we were old enough to make mature decisions regarding the men we met.

As lunch time neared, and the intensity of the sun seemed to increase, we headed back to the villa. As in the past, several of the young men we had been talking to tried to follow. In the past Grandma had dissuaded them, but now she left it up to us to get the point across that we weren't extending any invitations to join us either at lunch, or even to use the outdoor shower stall we have for washing the sand off when returning from the beach.

Most of our retinue took the hint when we announced that none were invited to lunch, but several continued to tag along determinedly. Judy finally stopped, turned to face them, and in French announced that she hoped they weren't going be silly about following us. She said that the boy who ignored her warning last year still didn't have the full use of the leg where one of our bodyguards shot him when he tried to get into the villa's courtyard. They laughed like it was all a joke until they realized that the rest of us were maintaining stoical expressions. Perhaps they decided not to press it further because they turned around dejectedly and walked back towards the beach. We maintained our expressions back to the villa, but we had a good laugh about it over lunch. I don't even know if Charles has a firearm available.

Following lunch we took a walk through town to do some shopping. Again we attracted a following of young men. Several even tried to buy us things that we looked at, but none of us were interested in paying the price that they would try to exact afterwards.

Mornings on the beach and afternoons spent shopping may not sound like much fun to some, but it was wonderful. I don't know if anyone recognized me, but if they did they never acknowledged the fact. We let our hair down, so to speak, with intentions of enjoying our two weeks fully.

It was on Saturday night of our second week, just two days before we were scheduled to leave, when it happened. It must have been four a.m. in the morning when I was brusquely awakened from a sound sleep. My assailant turned out to be Mary, the last person I'd expect to see up at that hour. She hadn't turned the lights on, but there was enough moonlight to see her clearly.

"Huh? What is it?" I said groggily.

"Darla Anne, wake up!" she said excitedly.

"Okay, okay, I'm awake," I said, "sort of. What is it?"

Susan was awakened by the sound of our voices and began to sleepily make her own inquires about the early morning interruption.

"It's Judy!" Mary said with considerable agitation. "She's gone!"

"What do you mean, gone," I said, suddenly more awake.

"I don't know. She's not in our bedroom. I thought she might have gone downstairs to get something to eat or drink, but she's not there either. She's not in the house."

"You've searched the whole house?"

"All except for the bedrooms of Charles and the cook. I looked into Mom's and Auntie's bedroom, and even glanced into Grandma's. She's not in the house or on the veranda, and the doors are all locked."

"Why come to me?" I said. "I don't know where she is. You should tell Mother."

"I can't tell Mother. She'd wake Grandma and then they'd want to call the police or something. We can't blow this out of proportion."

"What do you think I can do?"

"I don't know, but you're Darla Anne Drake. You're DD. You always know what to do."

"I wish that were true, but it isn't."

"Are you kidding? You're Supergirl. Everybody knows that."

The only thing I shared with Supergirl was blond hair, but I couldn't suppress a small grin as I pictured myself in a skimpy costume with my fists on my hips and a red cape billowing in the wind. The letters 'DD' were large and prominent on my chest where Supergirl had an 'S'. I should probably be glad that such a caricature hadn't yet occurred to the artists at The Paper Press. They were fond of creating symbolizations and had depicted me in a variety of ways over the years.

"Look, are her clothes still here?" I asked.

"I don't know."

"Well go look in your closet. And see if any of her suitcases are missing."

While Mary hurried out I climbed tiredly out of bed and put on my robe.

"Where is she?" Susan asked.

"I have no idea," I managed to get out before Mary rushed back into the room.

"All her suitcases and clothes are there, as far as I can tell."

"Where was she when you went to bed?"

"She was standing at the mirror brushing her hair."

"Was she in her pajamas?"

"No."

"Then she probably had plans to go out and was only waiting until you fell asleep."

"She would have told me if she planned to go out. Maybe she's been kidnapped."

Have you seen any signs of a struggle?"

"Uh, no."

"If there had been noise of a struggle, it most likely would have woken someone. If she was taken forcibly, there would be signs of that effort. And you said the house is secure. Kidnappers wouldn't bother to clean up and lock the house behind them. Ergo, she left willingly."

"But why?" Judy asked.

"What's all the commotion?" Mother asked, entering the bedroom that I shared with Susan. "Why are you all talking in the dark?"

"It's nothing, Mother," I said. "I'm sorry we woke you. You can go back to sleep. Mary was just going back to her bedroom."

"Something serious must be wrong for Mary to be out of bed at this hour. I want to hear what it is. I'm still your mother, even if you are almost grown women."

I hadn't yet reached eighteen, but Susan had. And Mary was twenty. Judy was twenty-one now and legally an adult responsible for her own actions in every country I knew of.

I sighed and said, "Mary is concerned because Judy isn't in her bed."

Mary glared at me, even though she knew that someone had to tell mother now that she was awake.

"Where is she?" Mother asked, looking at me. Why did everyone assume that I knew where Judy had gone?"

"She never said anything to me about going out," I said, "but she has seemed to spend quite a bit of time with that Greek boy that's always on the beach."

"The one I called Zorba?" Susan asked.

I nodded. "Yes. I think she likes him. And he's not just looking for a rich American. His father owns a ship-building company."

"Where did you hear that?" mother asked.

"I heard him mention his father's name. And that pinky ring he wears on his left hand has to be worth five grand."

"If it's real," Susan said.

"If it's not, it's the best costume jewelry I've ever seen. And when we left the beach this morning, I saw him climb into a brand new Aston Martin DBS. Most of the boys on the beach couldn't afford to replace his rear view mirror."

"Do you know where he lives?" Mother asked me.

"No, but that car of his won't be too difficult to find. The company will probably only make a couple of hundred this year, and no more that a couple of dozen will be Cranberry, or whatever they call that color. However, I would wait until sunrise before pursuing the matter. Judy is an adult woman now."

We were still talking about what we should do when we heard the sounds of a powerful car pulling up in front. We got to the windows in time to see Judy leaning into the car on the driver's side. She had to be kissing the driver. As we watched, she pulled out and playfully slapped at the driver's hands when he reached to pull her back in. She giggled, turned, and hurried towards the house. The driver waited until she was inside, then gunned the motor and speed away in the purple sports car.

"Looks like you were right," Mother said to me. "That was a cranberry Aston Martin, wasn't it?"

I nodded. "It looked like it. It's still a bit dark out."

"Like I said," Mary said with a grin, "Supergirl. Or maybe Sherla Holmes."

"What?" Mother said.

"If Darla Anne doesn't know what's going on, she can deduce it," Mary said.

"Let's all get back to bed," Mother said. "It's still nighttime."

But before anybody could leave, Judy came tiptoeing up the stairs. The bedroom door to the hallway was open and she stopped when she saw us all looking in her direction. She had obviously been drinking, and couldn't stop giggling as she looked back at us.

"Why is everyone up at this hour?" she asked.

"You know very well why," mother said. "You snuck out after everyone went to sleep. We discovered that you were gone and were worried about you."

"Oh, Mother," Judy said waving her hand in dismissal, "I just didn't want to listen to any lectures about being a 'proper' young lady. I spent most of the sixties with my nose stuck in a book or stuck on a ranch in the middle of nowhere, but I'm not going to miss the seventies as well. I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

With that Judy turned and walked to her bedroom. Mary followed along and closed the door behind them. Mother sighed lightly, said 'Goodnight, girls,' then left our bedroom, pulling the door closed behind her.

"And that's that," Susan said to me.

"That's what?" I asked.

"End of discussion. End of excitement. Judy's home safe and sound. Time to go back to sleep."

"I guess," I said, as took off my robe and climbed into bed. "I never expected anything like that from Judy. She's always been so– so– much like Mother. Disappearing in the middle of the night is more your speed."

"Well, I like that," Susan said haughtily.

"You know what I mean. You're much more impulsive and prone to disobey the 'rules.'"

"Apparently not, since we're all awake because of Judy."

"Mad because she beat you to it?" I asked teasingly.

"Not at all. And besides– it'll make it less terrible when I do it," she said, mischievously.

I grinned, fluffed up my pillow, and plopped my head back down, hoping that I would be able to get back to sleep. I needn't have worried.

I was having breakfast with Susan when Mother arrived in the dining room in the morning. Pouring herself a cup of tea after we exchanged greeting, Mother took her usual place at the table and looked forlornly at the two of us.

"What's wrong, Mother," I asked. "Upset about last night?"

"Tell me truthfully," she began, "have I been too severe with you girls since your father died? Have I stifled you?"

"Certainly not." I said. "Judy wasn't accusing you of anything like that last night. She's just realizing that she's twenty-one, a college graduate, and essentially going to be on her own soon. She's spreading her wings, testing the waters, or whatever other cliché you like. She may not have chosen her words carefully enough because she obviously had been drinking."

"None of us have anything but love for you, Auntie, and Grandma," Susan said. "Our lives have been wonderful, and certainly more stable and rewarding than most people would have expected after the tragedy we experienced back East. It's been our decision to keep our noses stuck in a book, and we love the lives we've had while stuck on a ranch in the middle of nowhere. Stuck is hardly what I consider it, although Darla Anne and I have traveled extensively in our roles with Ameri-Moore. Don't let Judy's outburst upset you. I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it."

Mother rose from her chair and came around behind us so she could hug each of us. She knew that our comments were totally sincere. She was just straightening up when Mary came in, ahead of Judy for a change.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Nothing dear," Mother said. "Did you get back to sleep okay last night?"

"No problem. But when I woke up again a little while ago I couldn't get back to sleep. Judy is snoring like a drunken sailor up there."

We all giggled. Judy apparently had more to drink that we suspected. We were still giggling when Grandma burst into the room.

"Darla Anne!" she said without the usual morning greetings. "I've just received a message from my office in Dallas. There's been a fire at Piermont."
I was instantly alarmed and understood her anxiety.

"Was anyone injured?" I asked so fast my words slurred together.

"No, the fire occurred in the middle of the night."

"I don't understand. Bob Warren should have called me. I gave him the number here before we left."

"He couldn't call you. The numbers were in his office desk. He called the ranch but Rosa wouldn't give out the number here. He finally called his old office in Portland as soon as they opened, and they gave him my office telephone number in Dallas. A secretary there promised to pass on the message."

"But he's supposed to be in Brandon. Why couldn't he get my number from his des–? You're not telling me that the fire was in the headquarters building?"
"In the message, Bob says that it's a total loss."

The enormity of her statement hit me like a sledgehammer. Everything, and I mean everything, was coordinated through Brandon. I would sooner see one of the plants burn down than our headquarters building. With no information to go on other than that the headquarters was a 'total loss,' my mind reeled with aspects of the disaster. It was wonderful that no one had been injured, if that was true, but the loss of all our records could cripple us. We could probably reconstruct the invoice files from copies of manifests at our producing locations, but it would be an incredible task. And how would we ever completely straighten out payments made by customers? A nightmare of potential problems expanded exponentially in my mind with each passing moment.

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End Of Chapter Fifty-One

To Be Continued In Chapter Fifty-Two