Chapter 1
(Texas Gal 54)

By Penny Reed Cardon

This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.

It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.

This story picks up where Crystal left off.
There had been a fire in the headquarters building of Piermont Paper Products, in Brandon, Vermont.
DD had just made one of the hardest decisions of her young life,
that of relocating the headquarters to Jefferson City, Mo.
They would occupy the office building that they acquired in the buyout of MoPaper.

And now, this is how I imagine the story would continue.

Chapter 1

The last time I had this much trouble sleeping was when I couldn't figure out where to find the spiral binding equipment for the MoPacs. It was the fourth night I'd spent in the Capital Plaza hotel, so I didn't think it was the unfamiliar bed. Perhaps my subconscious had finally realized that the lives and livelihoods of a couple of thousand people were resting squarely on my tiny, rounding shoulders. Whatever the reason, at 4 o'clock I found myself pacing back and forth, wearing a rut into their very plush carpeting. At 5 o'clock I showered and got ready to face another day. 6 o'clock found me in the Piermont pool-car, waiting for the first rays of sunshine to crest the horizon, so I could legally drive. It still seemed strange, not having Earl driving me around but I guess I'll get used to him not being around.

For the first time since Grandma appointed me the president of the paper division, I was the first to arrive at the headquarters building. I had woken Earl while napping in the limo on many occasions, but I didn't expect to wake the night security guard by arriving so early in the morning. He looked so contented, leaning back in the lobby receptionists’ chair with his feet propped up on something. It almost seemed a shame to wake him, except for the fact that; one, the doors were locked; two, I wanted to go up to my office; and three, he was supposed to be guarding the building. After the recent events in Vermont, to find the night watchman sleeping, caused me to be a little more than mildly upset. I rattled the glass doors until I saw some life return to the guard’s eyes. Casually he walked towards the main doors, while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

He was a big man, broad shoulders, powerful arms, huge hands, and he towered over me by at least a foot and a quarter. If I was in the market for a bodyguard he would be a likely candidate.

"You want something?" he mumbled, still half asleep.

"Yes, I want to go up to my office," I replied loudly.

"Well, who the heck are -"

I guess it took his brain a little longer to wake up, or he looked out to the parking lot and saw the Piermont car in the 'Reserved for President' spot and put two and two together.

Pulling some keys out, he quickly unlocked the doors and held one open so I could enter. "I'm sorry Miss Drake. I didn't expect to see anyone here this early."

"That was obvious," I replied. "What's your name?"

"Fisher ma'am, Brad Fisher."

"Do you always sleep while you're on duty Mr. Fisher?"

"No ma'am?"

"This is your first and last warning Mr. Fisher. Pass the word to the rest of the security team; anyone caught sleeping on duty will be terminated without any other warning. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Fisher?"

"Yes ma'am. Very clear."

I turned and headed for the elevator, undoubtedly leaving Mr. Fisher to wipe the sweat from his forehead and possibly in need of changing his pants.

I couldn't tell Mr. Fisher that the fire in Vermont was probably deliberate, but I was determined that history would not repeat itself in Jefferson City, and I would take whatever steps were needed to prevent such an occurrence.

I spent the next half hour working through some ideas and making a few notes to myself. I knew that I didn't have the knowledge to implement all of my ideas, we were going to need a professional. I didn't know where to find such a professional, but I knew that Ben would figure it out. I would chat with him later about what I wanted. In the meantime, I returned to the building blueprints and marked out a large section of unused space on the first floor and labeled it SECURITY OFFICE.

I was working on the housing problem when Bob called and asked if he could come over. I fixed myself another cup of tea while I waited.

"I still can't get over this convention hall that Roy called an office," Bob said as he crossed to join me in my casual area. "What are you going to do with all this space?"

"Well, I was thinking of pushing things around a bit and putting in a potter’s wheel. Do you think the pulp furnaces get hot enough to fire pottery?"

Bob was sitting down as I asked about the pulp furnace; he paused in mid sit and looked at me. I'm sure he was trying to figure out if I was being serious or if I was pulling his leg. After he finished sitting he shook his head and said, "You know boss, I've seen you in action so many times and I still can't tell when you're bluffing or when you're holding a royal flush."

"Good, if you can't tell neither can anyone else," I said, with a big smile.

"So, what brings you in so early? In four years, this is the first time you've beaten me to the office."

"Well, it's a about time I got in at a reasonable hour, don't you think? Besides, I couldn't sleep for some reason, so I thought I'd try and get the housing sorted out. If my coming in at 6:30 becomes a habit, I think I'm going to need some keys to the building."

"Didn't the security guard let you in?"

"Oh yes, he let me in - after I woke him up."

"Woke him up?"

"Indeed, he was reclining in the receptionist’s chair, dead to the world. Of course, that was before I started rattling the front doors. He was more than a foot taller than me when he unlocked the doors, but I think he shrank two feet while I chewed him out."

"You fired him?"

"No, but I probably should have. I'm sure we won't have any problem with Mr. Fisher sleeping on the job again, and I'm quite certain he'll pass the word that sleeping on duty won't be tolerated, by anyone in that department."

"Okay, if that's how you want to handle it, you're the boss. What have you decided on the housing?"

"I think for now we should stay away from the furnished apartments, they all require a six month lease, or more. The thirty-three temps probably won't be here that long and those relocating will be looking for permanent housing long before a lease expires."

"I was kind of thinking along the same lines, so we'll need thirty-three hotel rooms. Did we locate enough that were suitable?"

"Forty-one actually. You're forgetting the six who are transferring down, along with Ben and Tom. Almost everyone should be here by the end of the week."

"You're right. We should probably round it up to an even forty-five rooms, to account for the ‘just in case factor’."

"Good point. We can negotiate for forty-five, but I don't want to rent them until we need them. I'll call Ben to find out how many are flying out tomorrow, and how many are driving and when they are planning to leave Vermont. Speaking of people coming from Vermont, I was thinking about Nancy and Ellen while I couldn't sleep. Nancy has been with the company from the beginning and would therefore have more seniority. So I was thinking, why don't you make her the offer and let her decided which job she wants."

"Which job? How many jobs are available?"

"Let me see, she could be your personal secretary now, or she could remain the executive suites receptionist. If she remains the executive suites receptionist, then in about a year she could choose between remaining as the executive suites receptionist or she could move into my outer office as my personal secretary, after I finish my post graduate work."

"Well, I hope Ellen has excellent skills, because I think she'll be my new secretary. At least if I was Nancy, there wouldn't be any question. Work for me and my day to day running of the business, or try to keep up with you and all of your excited, hair brained schemes and ideas. Me, I'd take hair brained excitement any day of the week."

I couldn't help myself as I started teasing, "Oh, is that what it takes to be successful in this business, more hair? You know, if you let your hair grow out we could put a little curl at the bottom like Marlow Thomas, find you the right dress, a little makeup -"

Holding up both hands and waving, Bob interrupted, "That's okay boss, that's okay. I'll leave the hair, makeup, and dresses to you. Besides, I wouldn't want to scare my kids."

"Oh, all right, if you're sure." I tried to sound disappointed, but I think my giggle spoke louder and he knew I was kidding.

Looking at his watch, Bob tactfully changed the subject, "I picked up Greg Lissum late last night at the airport, and got him checked into the Capitol Plaza. According to him, the first truck should be here before noon. He should be awake by now, so I'll go get him and bring him back here. Should we arrange for some more Piermont cars to be brought to JC or should we get a bunch of rentals?"

"That's fantastic, I'm glad that Greg is here and that the first truck could be here so fast. The sooner our records are securely stored downstairs, the sooner we can all relax a little. I arranged for an additional ten rooms at the plaza, last night. When you go to pick up Greg, tell the clerk at the front desk to subtract Greg's room from the ten reserved by Piermont. As far as transportation goes, do we have any more Piermont cars in the area?"

"Not that I know of. There were only four cars shared between the offices and the plant. We won't need as many in Brandon with the headquarters moving down here, some of those can be brought down."

"We should probably leave the keys for the company cars at the front desk, so they can be better utilized throughout the day. We'll have someone at the front desk check cars in and out, and keep track of who has what. I don't want to rent a fleet of cars until we have a better picture of what we'll need. It might turn out that a large van or two would work out better. We'll just have to play it by ear for now."

"I hadn't thought of vans, but that makes sense for groups that come and go at the same time. We may need to do something different on the weekends so people can do their own thing, but we can cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, I'll go get Greg and show him the layout of the building. I'll see you later . . . then we can go over the possible acquisition folder, it is Monday morning."

I could see that Bob was trying to look serious, but he just couldn't hide the little grin that crept onto his face. After a moment I asked, "Now who's working on their poker face?"

"All right, you win. You have the best poker face," Bob conceded, as he left.

I had Bob take the keys for the car I was driving, down to security; so someone else could use it, while I didn't need it. Needing a little break, I went to see if Ellen was in. She was, so I described what I wanted and had her make a simple form for keeping track of who has what car. She would take it down to security when it was ready.

My next order of business was to call Ian Thorehill, over at the plant, to see how many of the temporary workers at the plant were using rental cars. I asked him to ask around and see how many would be willing to carpool, thereby freeing up some cars to be used by headquarters personal. After that was done, it was time to call Ben.

"Good morning Ben."

"DD? You're up early."

"Bob said the same thing. He was surprised to find that I was in the office before he was. What I'm calling about is the list of those who are flying out tomorrow and who are driving. We're still working on housing, which should be finalized today, but the question of transportation came up, so I've started looking at those options. Getting the list from you will really help in that area. I know you won't have it put together right now, but as soon as you have it, I'd like it sent down to the sales office here, via the telex. I'll alert them that it's coming and arrange to have someone bring it upstairs when it arrives."

"No problem DD, in fact I'm just about finished with those arrangements. As we were signing people up last Friday, I started collecting that information. Obviously, those driving down will have their own cars. Those that are flying will need transportation, but how many are able to carpool, once they get there, will depend on job similarities and housing."

"Exactly. We'll do our best to work everything out at this end, before our people start arriving. Please tell everyone that is driving down, to come directly to the headquarters building and we'll give them directions to the hotels from here."

"No problem, I've already told them to stop by my temporary office before they head down. I've arranged to advance them money for gas, as I indicated, equivalent to what the flight would have cost."

"That's terrific Ben. Look, I know that you have your hands full right now, but I'd like you to start thinking about a couple of things. "

"You just say the word DD and I'll add it to the list.”

"Thanks Ben. First off, I'd like you to start looking for a new position, someone who is up on all the latest security systems, public, private, and even military. Retired secret service, FBI, CIA, military Special Forces, something along those lines. Of course, if any of our existing security people are qualified, that would be great. The position will be Piermont Chief of Security."

"Military, FBI, are you planning on starting a war?"

"Start a war, never, but if we have to, we'll finish one. Not to mention that if the fire was arson, as we suspect, I'm not about to give anyone a second chance. Second, I want you to start hiring additional security personal."

"How many more are you thinking?"

"I want to double the security at all of our office buildings and have 50% more at all of our plants."

"DD, do you know how many people you're talking about?"

"I have a rough idea, but like I said, I don't intend on giving anyone an opportunity to hit us like this again."

"Whatever you say DD, you're the boss."

"Thanks Ben, I really appreciate all of your hard work. I'll be watching for that list. Do you have any idea when you'll be coming down here?"

"It won't be until late in the week, perhaps not until next week. We’re still working on temporary offices for our plant and regional office needs."

"Of course, of course. Listen, along those lines, set up enough office space for Matt, his sales staff, and his graphic design people. We have a sales staff at each of the other regional offices, so there's no reason not to have sales staff working out of Brandon."

"I figured on offices for a sales staff, but why the graphic design folks? Shouldn't that operation be moved to JC?"

"One thing at a time. The most important thing right now is to get data processing and accounting up and running. Once we have A/R money coming in and A/P's going out, we can work on the other areas."

"I guess that makes sense. It means I may need to stay here another day or two. "

"I understand, get here as soon as things are settled in Brandon so we can start building our headquarters staff here."

"Will do, DD."

"Good bye Ben."

"Good bye."

The next order of business was to dig a phone number out of my purse that I've only called once before.

"Wells Investigation."

"Mr. Morris Wells please, Darla Anne Drake calling," I replied.

"One moment Miss Drake."

"Miss Drake, I've been trying to reach you."

"I thought you might have been. I'm guessing you've heard about our little B-B-Q."

"B-B-Q? I guess that's one way to look at it. Yes I heard about an incident at your headquarters building in Brandon. In fact it made the front page of the Sunday morning newspaper, here in Boston."

"The front page and Sunday morning, my, my, news travels fast in the Northeast, very fast indeed; or the paper had an informant. Tell me Mr. Wells, have you heard anything interesting from your operative at South-Core; other than they probably had a week long party, because of our misfortune."

"Anything interesting? Are you thinking that someone at South-Core might have been responsible for the fire?"

"The local fire chief did call in the arson investigation unit from Montpellier, the Vermont state capital. They haven't released their report as yet, but I think it’s safe to say the fire was deliberately set."

"I see. No, we haven't heard anything that would make us believe that South-Core had arranged for someone to torch your Headquarters building. That doesn't necessarily mean they did or didn't, just that we haven't heard anything."

"I understand. South-Core is one of the top two suspects on my list."

"Who is the other, if I might ask?"

"Robert De Forrest - of Alliance Paper. Their Headquarters is in Spokane, Washington. You don't happen to know someone out there who could provide me the same service you're providing?"

"I may know some people on the Pacific Coast that might be able to help you. Let me make a few phone calls and I'll get back to you."

"Fair enough. Have you heard any more about the spy that South-Core planted in Piermont, a name perhaps?"

"I'm sorry to say that we haven't uncovered their identity."

"Hum, that's too bad, I was hoping that something was going to be easy this week. I don't believe we've seen the last of South-Core and I don't think Stanley Broward would let go of what he probably believes to be his ace in the hole. However, based on that assumption I think we can narrow the field to one out of thirty-nine instead of one out of one hundred twenty-eight."

"I'm not sure I understand, Miss Drake."

"It's quite simple, of the one hundred twenty-eight employees that comprised our headquarters staff in Brandon, only six have requested to be transferred permanently to the new headquarters building, in Jefferson City, Missouri. Another thirty-three have agreed to temporarily assist with getting the company back on its feet. Some of those may decide to stay on after they get to know Jefferson City a little better. I'm betting our spy is one of those thirty-nine."

"So how can I help?"

"Do you have a fax machine in your office?"

"Yes."

"We didn't have one in Brandon, but we do here. It looks like an interesting method for sending information. Anyway, when I get the list from our VP of Personnel, I'll send it to you. I'd like you to do a background check on each individual, going back, oh let’s say ten years."

"That could take some time."

"Well, we've been trying to figure out who this person is for almost two years, what's a little more time."

"As you wish, Miss Drake."

Mr. Wells gave me the phone number to use for his fax machine and I gave him the numbers for the headquarters building in JC, then we hung up. Next on the agenda, I needed to call three of the better hotels and reserved a block of ten rooms at each. I had the phone in my hand when I realized, without Ben's list, I didn't know how many on what day. Setting the phone down I realized - I had nothing to do. I didn't even have any trade magazines to read.

The problem with having nothing to do is your mind starts to wander. I thought about my family and how everyone has started going different directions. I thought about my extended family at Brandon and how we've been brutally torn apart. I thought about the thousands of people who were depending on me to keep this company together, so they'd have employment. I thought about calling Grandma to see how she deals with the stress that goes with responsibility of corporate management.

After wallowing in feelings of guilt, remorse, self-doubt, and general sorrow, for about two minutes, I shook my head vigorously and left my cavernous office and went to bother Ellen. I wouldn't normally bother the receptionist, but I figured since she and I were the only two on the fourth floor and I hadn't given her any work to do, she was probably as bored as I was.

"Hello Ellen," I greeted.

"Hello Miss Drake. Is there something I can do for you?"

"As a matter of fact, there is. Would you show me how to run the fax machine, you've got behind you?"

"I'll be happy to take care of anything you need sent, Miss Drake."

Holding out my empty hands, “I'm sure you would, but I don't have anything right now. We didn't have a fax machine in Brandon and I'd just like to know how the system works."

Ellen still seemed a bit confused by my request. However, she taught me everything there was to know about the fax machine, where the blank cover letters were stored, and to wait for the confirmation report to print out. I thanked her for the education and then took the elevator to the first floor

"Might I inquire as to who is in a position of authority in this office?" I asked in general, as I arrived in the sales offices.

Everyone looked around for a few moments, appearing to be in shock that I was even speaking to them in the first place. Eventually, a woman stood, “I guess that would be me Miss Drake. I'm not in management or anything, but I've been here the longest. My name is Rebecca, Miss Drake. Rebecca Wheeler, but most everyone calls me Becky. Is there something I can do for you?"

"It's nice to meet you Becky. I'm sure in time we'll all get to know one another. I'm waiting for a list of names from Ben Phillips. He'll be sending it down from Brandon via the telex. If someone could bring the list upstairs as soon as it comes in, it would be most appreciated."

"No program Miss Drake, I'll get it up to you as soon as it comes in," Becky replied cheerfully.

"Thank you, Becky."

I went back to the elevator and it was ascending when I realized I again had nothing to do. The doors opened and I nodded at Ellen as I passed, when I had a sudden thought. Turning back I asked "Ellen, is there a library of any kind in the building?"

"Library?"

"Yes, library. A place where books on a variety of subjects are stored and available for anyone to read. You do know what books are?"

Ellen giggled for a moment before replying, "Yes, Miss Drake, I know what books are. I'm sorry but we don't have a library in the building. There are usually some current magazines in the employee cafeteria, on the first floor, but I'm afraid that's about it."

"Oh well, I guess we'll just have to build one. Ellen, were going to have about forty people from Brandon arriving in the next few days. Would you put together about fifty information packets?"

"I'd be happy to, but what kind of information were you thinking of?"

"I'd start off with a large fold out map of the city, like the maps they have at the Texaco gas stations. Then check with the chamber of commerce, or visitor information, for information about the city and surrounding areas. Points of interest, places to visit, things to see, recommended restaurants, unusual eateries, whatever they have. Oh, also include information about the various religious denominations in the area. Add anything else you can think of that would help our people get to know the area."

"After I have them assembled, where would you like me to put them?"

"Why don't you keep them here, behind your desk. Tomorrow you can pass them out during the orientation meeting, in the first floor conference room."

"You want me to help with an orientation?"

"Is that a problem?"

"No ma'am, no problem at all. It's just a little unexpected. I've never been asked to do anything like that before."

I was still talking with Ellen when the elevator doors opened and Becky stepped out.

"Hello again Becky," I greeted.

“Hello Miss Drake. Here's the telex you were waiting for." she replied.

"Terrific. Thank you for bringing it up so quickly, Becky. Now I've got to get to work and arrange for hotel rooms for everyone."

"Oh, I can take care of that Miss Drake," Ellen cheerfully volunteered.

I was going to thank Ellen for her offer and go to my office to finish what I'd started, when I remembered the difference in our two positions. My job was to make a mess, stir up the hornets, and solve the problems that nobody else could. Ellen's job was to manage the paperwork, make the phone calls, and help clean up the messes that I make.

Smiling I answered, "Thank you, Ellen. I've already arranged for a tentative block of rooms at several hotels. Come to my office and I'll get you that information." I continued as we walked. "I'll also show you how I want to group them by jobs and arrival dates. When you’re done I'd like a separate page for each of the four hotels, indicating who will be staying at each, what room number they're in, and arrival dates. Make four copies of each, one for me, one for Mr. Warren, one for Mr. Phillips, and one for you."

"One for me?" she questioned.

"But of course, you're going to be helping tomorrow and Wednesday in handing out the room assignments and the information packets. You might as well have a copy of the list. After you've got the list organized, call the hotels and make the reservations. I'd also like a single sheet with just a typed list of the names. After the reservations have been arranged and you’re working on the information packets, if it would be easier for you to personally collect the information, then by all means do so. Take one of the company cars; it will do a little advertising by driving the Piermont car around. It will start to show people that Piermont is in town to stay."

Twenty minutes later, Ellen had all the hotel information organized. She was back in my office with a preliminary hotel organization lists and my single sheet of the thirty-nine names. I took my sheet and approved the hotel organization so she could call and make the reservations.

Well, there I was again; just passed 9:00 and I still had nothing to do.

Just after ten, Ellen brought in the room assignment lists. She'd made the reservations at the four hotels, had contacted the visitors’ information center, and was ready to go collect the supplies for the information packets. About ten minutes after Ellen had left I took the single sheet of names and faxed them to Mr. Wells. About eleven Bob called and asked if I knew where Ellen was. I confessed to having sent her on an errand and I invited Bob to take me out to lunch, being that I was also without a car. When we returned Ellen was at her usual place, eager to show me the information she'd collected.

I left the office early Monday afternoon; I had a list of places to go as I was in search of a book. Stopping at several bookstores I purchased a dozen books. I also ordered almost a hundred books on subjects that encompassed all facets of Ameri-Moore's operations. They would be delivered to the office building as soon as the bookstores receive them.

Tuesday morning, Bob and I discussed the status of the records going into the basement vault and how they were being organized. We also discussed the status of the Whorton purchase, as well as my desire to put in a library. The paperwork for the purchase of Whorton had been in the hands of the attorneys at the time of the fire, so at least that wasn't lost. There was a small problem with the plant in Louisiana; it seems that a section of the parking lot, that everyone assumed was owned by Whorton, actually belonged to the neighboring property owner. It was decided to let Hollis Homes work out the problem with the neighbor before we would close the deal.

Roy had built such a massive building that we were going to have several empty offices adjacent to the executive suites, Bob and I decided to use one of those empty offices for a corporate library. Bob would make arrangements for some quality bookcases once the books I'd ordered started arriving.

Tuesday afternoon, Bob, Bill, Ellen, and I were waiting in the conference room when security informed us that the chartered bus had arrived from the airport, with twenty-two of our headquarters staff. Bob and I went out to meet the bus in the parking lot. When the doors opened I went aboard and used the onboard PA system.

"Hello everyone. Welcome to Jefferson City. If everyone will please follow Mr. Warren and me to the first floor conference room, we'll get you your hotel and room assignments. Your luggage and the rest of your personal items will be fine here. After a brief orientation, the bus will take everyone to their hotels. So if you'll come inside, we'll get started." I handed the microphone to the driver and stepped down.

Back in the conference room, the room assignments were quickly distributed and the information packets were handed out. Bill took the accountants on a tour of the building. Bob did the same for the DP folks. After their tours, everyone met back in the conference room where meal information was distributed. Everyone seemed happy with the arrangements as they returned to the bus for the trip to their hotels.

Wednesday was a repeat of Tuesday, with the exception that our people straggled in, in groups of three's and five's. By Wednesday evening, everyone was accounted for, no one had gotten lost and fortunately there had been no accidents.

Bob talked with Nancy Wednesday afternoon, as he suspected she was willing to remain the executive suites receptionist for a year with the option of becoming my personal secretary after I finish with school.

Before Nancy left Wednesday evening, I asked her to personally get in touch with each member of the executive staff and inform them that there would be a regular Friday meetings and I wanted everyone there. Bob would make the necessary travel arrangements. Even though we were surrounded by chaos, I felt it was important to restore order within our upper management team. I knew that the proper attitude and an optimistic outlook at the upper levels would be contagious and it would filter all the way down to the most recently hired employees.

* * * To Be Continued * * *

Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]

Chapter 2

By Penny Reed Cardon

This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.

It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.

Chapter 2

Thursday morning, as I was on my way to the office, I found myself following several large trucks bearing the large blue IBM logo. As we got closer and closer to the headquarters building my excitement grew and grew. As they pulled into our parking lot I knew that our long awaited computer had arrived. The caravan of trucks stopped and I pulled around them. As I was nearing my parking space I realized I wasn't going to be able to park there at the moment, the lead truck was blocking my way. As I pulled up beside the lead truck a man was climbing down from the passenger side with clipboard.

"May I help you?" I asked, as I stepped out of my car.

"We have a delivery for Piermont Paper, but I'm not sure we’re in the right place."

"Oh yes, you're definitely in the right place," I said excitedly. "I was hoping that was for us. If you'll follow me I'll show you where you can unload."

"And just who might you be?" he asked suspiciously.

"I'm Darla Anne Drake, President of Piermont Paper." I replied confidently.

"Yes Miss Drake. Where would you like us to unload?"

"There's a loading dock in back and a freight elevator that will take you to the computer center, in the basement."

"Yes ma'am." he said, as he climbed back into his truck.

I slid back into my car and lead the way around the building. Parking off to the side, I climbed the steps to the door next to the loading dock. Opening a small door I picked up the phone and dialed a number that would set things in motion.

"Good morning, Bob, great news our computer is here."

"What do you mean our computer is here?"

"I followed a convoy of IBM trucks in from the hotel. I spoke with one of them in the parking lot and then led them around back."

"Around back? Are you at the loading dock?"

"Yes, the first truck is backing in now."

"Terrific, I'll notify Stan and we'll be right down. I'll call security and have them open the roll up door."

"Great, I'll see you in a couple of minutes."

The gentlemen from the first truck were just climbing the steps to the loading dock platform when the large door started to move. As the door rolled up I could make out the feet and legs of one of our very large security men.

Behind me I could hear the gentlemen from IBM talking softy. "You're telling me that, that little girl said she's the company president?" The older man asked the man I spoke with earlier, as I turned around.

"I haven't been called a little girl for quite some time, I am 17."

"17, and you are the president of the company?"

"Yes she is! You got a problem with that?" said a male voice from behind me. From the angle on the voice projection I could tell that he was much taller than I am.

"Ah, No . . . No, I don't have a problem with that," the driver from IBM replied, as I was turning to learn the identity of my defender.

As I turned I was face to chest with someone in a dark brown security uniform, a little bit of an intimidating feeling to be sure. Looking up into the face that towered above me, I smiled. "Well, Mr. Fisher, good to see you again."

"Good morning Miss Drake."

Just then a very excited Stan Clark appeared, rubbing his hands together. "Excellent, excellent. Come on, come on, come on. Let’s not stand around waiting for the grass to grow. Who's in charge here? Good morning Miss Drake. Move, move, move, let’s get this truck opened and start unloading. We have lots to do."

Bob appeared at that moment and I asked him, "Is Stan always that hyper"

"Not always, just when he has new toys to play with," Bob replied with a grin.

Bob and I were walking towards the regular elevators when I remembered my car. Turning back and digging in my purse, I handed the keys to Mr. Fisher. "After everything is unload and you've closed the dock door, would you take my car around to the front and leave the keys with whoever is manning the front desk?"

"Yes ma'am. I'd be happy to."

"Thank you."

"About how long will it take to get the system up and running" I asked Bob, as the elevator started ascending.

"I've only been around for one other computer installation; that was the one in Brandon. However, using that as an example, it should take three days to get everything unloaded, put in place, and wire all the components together. After that, the engineers from IBM will take a couple of days for testing, to verify proper operation and that nothing unexpected happened during transport. Then they will help our people load our applications, then the testing phase will start all over again."

"Do the guys from IBM work weekends?"

"Giving the urgency of the situation, I think we can arrange that."

"So that would have us back on line and ready for business, a week from tomorrow or the following Monday. That would make it only three weeks that we will have been down. How long will it take to get everything caught up, do you think?"

"You'd have to ask Bill that question."

Bob and I went to our respective offices, knowing that Stan had all matters pertaining to the computer well in hand.

About ten o'clock Nancy called, with a call from Ron Collins

"Hi Ron, what can I do for you?"

"Actually DD, I was hoping I could do something for you. Have you made plans for lunch?"

"No, no I haven't."

"Great. Don't worry about a thing; I'll take care of everything. I'll see you around noon."

"Okay Ron, I'll see you at noon."

That sounded suspiciously like a conversation I had about four years ago with Matt Piermont. Matt had been selling himself and was looking for a job. I wondered what Ron could be selling? I guessed I’d find out at the appointed time.

Just before noon, Nancy called to say that Ron Collins and Bob Warren were waiting to see me. I told her to send them in.

"I asked Bob to join us for lunch, I hope you don't mind?" Ron asked, as he entered, followed by Bob.

I wasn't sure what they were selling, but my guess was they had planned one heck of a sales pitch. "Not at all, the more the merrier. Welcome Bob. So, what's on the menu?" I ask, as I crossed to the conference table.

Both Bob and Ron were carrying large brown paper bags and headed for the kitchen. Bob came out with wine glasses, linen napkins and silverware for three. He quickly set them around one end of the conference table. Ron came out with a hand towel over one arm, pulled out the chair at the head of the table and asked, "May I seat you Miss President?"

Right there, I knew they had been talking with Matt. I didn't know if Matt was directly involved with what was sure to be an elaborate sales pitch or if he was just a source of information. Deciding to enjoy the show and see where it led, I graciously accepted Ron's offer and sat as he slid the chair in. Bob had disappeared into the kitchen and Ron quickly followed.

Ron came back moments later with a dinner plate, which he placed in front of me. "Here we are Madame President, a selection of your favorites, a six ounce steak, seared on the outside while still mooing on the inside, lobster from Maine, with melted butter and light on the garlic, seasoned rice, and a blend of broccoli and cauliflower steamed to perfection."

I hadn't noticed Bob's return, but there he was with what appeared to be a bottle of wine. "Would Madame care to sample our vintage, three week old wine?"

"Three week old?" I questioned with a giggle. Bob presented me with the bottle. The label read;

Tasset Vineyards
Special Vintage
For
Miss Darla Anne Drake
Bottled June 10, 1972
100% Pure Grape Juice

"Yes ma'am, the management felt that anything that had aged any longer would be inappropriate."

"Under the circumstances, I would have to agree," I replied, with a little chuckle.

After Bob poured the, ah, wine I told them, "All right you two! Get your plates and sit down, I have no intention of eating alone."

As we ate we talked about nothing important. Ron told us about his house in Asheville. Bob talked about what type of house he was looking for in JC. I told them about the classes I'd be taking, when I returned to school in the fall. All in all, it was a very nice non-business, business lunch. After we had concluded our meal, I looked at Bob, then at Ron, then back to Bob.

"All right gentlemen, I've been wined and dined, now what's the sales pitch?"

Bob looked at Ron and said, "I told you she'd know in a second what we were up to."

"You did, but it was still a good idea," Ron replied.

"Is someone going to tell me what's going on?" I asked, leaning back in my chair, folding my hands in my lap.

Bob also sat back, giving Ron the go ahead.

"For months I've been trying to come up with a way of making the plants we've got shuttered profitable. Unfortunately, I haven't had much success; that is until just after our last meeting, when I realized I was going about it in the wrong way. It wasn't the fact that I was trying to come up with a new product to run, that was wrong, it was the realization of what we do that changed my thinking."

"And what was this change of thinking, Ron?"

"Let me ask you a question, DD. What do we do?"

"What do you mean, what do we do? We make paper."

"Yes, we make paper and we make things out of paper. But in a more basic concept, what do we do with the raw materials?"

"I'm not sure I'm following you, Ron."

"We add value to them. We take the raw materials, wood, cloth, and chemicals, and we add value to them. It's the value that we've added, converting the raw materials into the finished product, which attracts customers and entices the customers to purchase our products."

"Okay, I think I understand where you're headed, please continue."

"Right, so the more value we can add, versus the cost of adding the value, the greater our profit margin, and the more value we can add the more customers we can attract."

"That's a different way of looking at it, but I'm with you so far."

"So instead of looking for different or new products to run, I started thinking about what do we do to add more value to the paper we already make? We add value to the paper when we cut and wrap it, when we color it and package it, and when we turn the paper into something else - like bags and boxes."

"But we just installed boxing and bagging equipment in Houston."

"The equipment has arrived in Houston, but it hasn't been installed yet. I talked Bob into holding off, until we had a chance to talk. We'd planned to talk with you two weeks ago, but we've been somewhat distracted the last couple of weeks."

"Yes, I'd say we've been more than a little distracted. So, how long did it take you to sell Bob on this idea?" I asked, as I looked at Bob.

"I just thought the idea had enough merit for more consideration," Bob explained.

"Okay Ron, let’s have the rest of the proposal."

"Right. I remembered what Tom had said about not having a rail spur at the Houston plant and therefore transportation costs would be higher. So I got with Bill and we figured out what it would cost to ship paper and paper board to Houston for the box and bag operation. Then I got with Matt to find out where our current box and bag customers are located. Then it was back to Bill to figure the cost of shipping the bags and boxes from Houston to our customers, the bulk of which, right now, are along the eastern seaboard. After that, I got the production records for Henderson, Memphis, Paducah and Ridgely. It turns out that the Henderson and Memphis plants have two forming machines and they're slightly newer than the equipment in Paducah and Ridgely. I also got the production records for Greenfield and Concord. Then I started crunching the numbers. If we move the four color boxing equipment to Henderson, we'll utilize 12% of the plant’s capacity running one shift. That's one machine running bleached paper and one running paperboard and running the boxing equipment for three shifts. Adding the used single color boxing equipment the utilization goes up to 25%. We basically do the same in Memphis only with bags, one system running white paper the other running Kraft paper. With the forming equipment we have, Memphis would be at 18% utilization with the current number of bagging machines, that we have sitting in Huston. There is enough warehouse space in each plant that we can install additional boxing and bagging equipment to bring the utilization up to a full two shifts on the forming equipment, possibly three shifts. Now I know that those two plants running one shift weren't profitable, but by adding value to the paper by turning it into bags and boxes and by saving the shipping costs by having the bag and boxing equipment on site. Both plants can show an acceptable profit."

"I have two questions, Ron. First, if we fill the warehouses with equipment where do we store finished product? Second, at what point are the plants in the black?"

"To answer your first question, we don't warehouse anything at Henderson or Memphis. Everything that is ready for shipment goes directly into boxcars. When we have ten loaded boxcars we have them moved to Evansville, or Jefferson City, or some other large warehouse so that the shipping of bags and or boxes can be consolidated with other products going to the same customers, thereby reducing shipping costs a little more. As for your second question, Henderson would be at the breakeven point at 78% of one shift, on the paper forming equipment. Naturally we would need more boxing equipment and that's figuring the boxing equipment would be running two shifts. Memphis would be at breakeven at 82% on the paper forming, but we would have to increase the number of bagging machines by three times what we have. Now if I've calculated the floor space requirements correctly, we should be able to install enough boxing and bagging equipment, so that the forming equipment could run two shifts and maybe a little more. There is one other upside to this whole plan; we would be recalling furloughed employees instead of hiring new employees."

"That is the real reason you put all of this together, isn't it, to recall the furloughed employees?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Bob, what do you think?" I asked.

"Like I said, I thought the idea had enough merit to warrant further discussion. That's why I agreed to hold off on the installation of the equipment in Houston. Right now all that new equipment is sitting in the warehouse collecting dust. We need to make a decision soon."

"Very well, we'll discuss it in tomorrow’s meeting as a continuation of old business. Ron, you might want to work on your presentation a little, it could use a little condensing."

"I'll do that, DD."

"I noticed that according to how you've laid out your plan, it would reopen one plant in the Mid-West region and one in the Southeast. Why not the two plants in the Southeast."

"As I said, the plants in Henderson and Memphis have slightly newer equipment, although they are still slow and inefficient in comparison to our other plants. That being the case, I still think they would work well for bags and boxes. Paducah and Ridgely have the oldest forming machines, I think they must have come up the Mississippi with Lewis and Clark. Those machines are so labor intense that the breakeven point is a lot higher."

"I think they’re a little newer than when the Lewis and Clark expedition went through, but I see your point. Obviously your objective wasn't simply to eliminate the calls to Asheville, from all the angry laid off employees?"

"I'll have to admit that that is part of it, but if I hadn't found a way to be more than marginally profitable, I wouldn't have made the proposal at all."

"Very well presented, Ron. As I said, condense it down and we'll discuss it tomorrow. Anything else?"

Neither of them had anything more to discuss about the proposal, so we cleaned up the dishes and they both left. I was once again left with almost nothing to do. Luckily, the mail-room had sent up several items, which of course Nancy screened and brought in after Bob and Ron had left. I now had three envelopes marked personal and two trade magazines. Yippee, the end of being bored to tears.

About four o-clock, the phone rang, it was Nancy. "I'm sorry to bother you, Miss Drake, but there's a young woman down at the receptionist desk asking to see you. She says, she works for the campus newspaper at Rutgers University in Newark, New Jersey. We told her you weren't giving interviews to any reporters, but she won't leave. She claims to know you from when you lived in Newark and insists that you'll see her."

"Does this mysterious reporter have a name?" I asked.

"She gave a name, something like Gina Macaroni."

"Gina Marcoti?"

"That could be it."

"Well, I do know a Gina Marcoti, if it's her I would be pleased to see her. If it's not the Gina that I know, we wouldn't want her wandering around the building unescorted. Have someone from security escort her to the fourth floor lobby and I'll come out there to meet her."

I arrived at the elevator, just as the doors were opening. The first person I saw was one of our large security men. Almost completely blocked from view, by the security man's large frame, was a fairly tall female. As they turned, I instantly recognized my friend, Gina.

"Thank you mister . . ."

"O'Reilly ma'am. Patrick O'Reilly."

"Thank you Mr. O'Reilly, I do indeed know this person, I'll take responsible for her from here," I volunteered.

"Very good ma'am," Mr. O'Reilly replied, as he turned back into the elevator.

As the elevator doors closed, I pulled Gina into a hug. "It's so good to see you. What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I came to see you," she replied. Before releasing me from our hug she whispered in my ear, "My little one."

A dim, long forgotten, memory suddenly became as clear as if it had happened yesterday. The memory was accompanied by a warm, safe feeling.

Pulling myself together, I suggested "There's no sense standing around in the hall, let's go to my office, so we can catch up on everything."

"That sounds like a great idea, madam president."

Gina smiled, as she referred to me as madam president, which was how she addressed me the last time we were together. It was an incredible realization; it had been almost five years since we'd seen each other.

We stopped to visit with Nancy for a few minutes, after I'd introduced Gina. I opened the door to the outer office and she said it was a nice office. I explained that that office was for my personal secretary, if and when I ever needed one. I continued and opened the door to my office. Knowing the reaction of most people, the first time they enter, I stepped aside and let Gina enter first. She went in about five steps and stopped.

Gina stood still for several moments, just looking around. Her first comment was a little different, "You know, if those were stain glass windows you could call it a cathedral."

I giggled at her remark, saying, "Most people compare it to a convention hall."

"That works as well. So, may I ask what goes on here that you need such a large office?

"Now wait a minute, I didn't design this building or this office. It was acquired as part of a buyout of another company."

"Yes, Mo Paper, I read about it."

After giving Gina the nickel tour she settled onto the leather couch and invited me to join her. I don't care for the feel of the leather couch, but I joined her. As I sat down, Gina pulled me towards her. She wrapped her arms around me and my head fell to the side, resting on her shoulder. We stayed that way for several minutes; neither of us spoke or moved.

"Feel better?" Gina asked, as she helped me sit up.

I thought about it for a moment, and then replied honestly, "Yes, I actually do feel better."

"I figured as much. I called the ranch and Susan told me where to find you. You may be brilliant and the youngest corporate president in the country, but I'll just bet that none of your college courses covered stress management. My major is in psychology and I figured you needed someone to help you relieve some of the stress your under, by now it must be enormous. I'll teach you some stress relief techniques I've learned, for over worked executives, before you take me home on Sunday."

"Take you home?"

"Sure," she replied with a big smile. "After all, you do fly and you do have access to an airplane or two. I figured I'd come spend the weekend with my favorite corporate president and sweet talk her into a little plane ride."

"I'll admit I do have my pilot’s license and Piermont does own several planes. -"

"And I suppose you're going to tell me you've never gone flying just for fun," Gina interrupted.

"Yes, I mean no. I mean - yes I have gone flying just fun," I admitted.

"So, have you ever flown from Jefferson City to Newark?"

"No, I haven't flown from Jefferson City to Newark."

"So it should be a fun trip, yes?"

"I guess it could be an enjoyable flight. All right, you win, I'll fly you home Sunday afternoon," I said, while shaking my head.

"Excellent, now that transportation is all arranged tell me about your hotel room."

"Hotel? You're planning on moving in with me for the next three days?"

Gina started to gently caress my knee. "But of course, little one. Don't you want me to stay with you?" she asked, as her hand slid under my skirt, caressing as it traveled.

I grabbed for Gina's hand before things went too far. "Of course, I would be honored to have Mistress stay with me. However, we don't do this in my office."

"Why not, little one? We're alone."

"At the moment, Mistress, but you never know when that may change."

"Oh, very well, but - you're going to pay for this later. For right now, undo the top button of your blouse and sit on the end of the coffee table."

I looked at Gina rather suspiciously. I'd just explained about not doing things that might be seen as inappropriate and then she tells me to unbutton my blouse.

"Relax, I only said the top button. I’m just going to give you a little shoulder massage." She replied, to my questioning look.

True to her word, Gina slipped her hands under my blouse, from behind, and gave me a wonderful shoulder massage. I had no idea it could feel so good or that simply massaging my shoulders could release such tension. After she was finished, Gina and I spent lots of time talking, catching up on each others lives, when Bob called and asked to come over. Of course I agreed and five minutes later there was a knock on the door, announcing his arrival.

"Come in," I called out.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in conference," Bob apologized, when he saw Gina.

"It's all right, Bob. Gina is an old friend of the family," I explained. "Gina, this is Bob Warren, my Executive Vice President. Bob, this is Gina Marcoti."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Marcoti," Bob greeted and shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Warren," Gina replied.

"So, Bob, what can I do for you?" I asked, as Bob sat in the other overstuffed chair.

"I just wanted to bring you up to date on the travel plans for tomorrow's meeting. Jerry is hoping on a flight out of Portland and should be here this evening. The same for Gerard, out of Owosso, he’ll be here tonight. Ron came over from Asheville in the 206 yesterday and he's just staying in town. I'm leaving in about thirty minutes. I'll be taking the G1 up to Brandon to spend the night with my wife and kids. In the morning I'll collect everyone that's still in Brandon and bring them down, for the meeting."

"That's great work Bob. I know that having a meeting tomorrow, with everything in chaos, sounds a little crazy. I believe it's important for our employees to know that Piermont is strong and what better way to demonstrate that than to see their management conducting business as usual."

"I agree completely, boss. Business as usual may cost a little more until we fine tune what ‘as usual’ will be for the long term. I think that getting back to business as usual is not only important for our people, but for the industry as a whole. We need to show the world that Piermont is alive and well, not to mention that we are still a strong competitor in the paper industry."

"Exactly. I'll see you tomorrow then, Bob. Have a safe trip."

Gina and I talked for a bit after Bob left, and then we decided to do some shopping. Me, I was in the market for what I considered to be a comfortable couch, for my office. Gina was looking for what she called, relaxation aides. I found Ethan Allen, Fine Furnishings, in the phone book and was ready to head out. Gina took the phone book with us and kept looking and making notes while I drove.

I quickly worked my way down to four couches, and then I kicked off my shoes and started the testing phase of the selection process. After sitting and reclining on each, several times, I selected a couch long enough to seat four, with large wings on each end. The wings would make an acceptable back and headrest, when I was sitting lengthwise. After I made my choice, I signed paperwork and arranged for delivery, early the next morning.

After we finished at Ethan Allen, Gina navigated as I drove. In all, we stopped at four, rather out of the way, shops. I wasn't exactly sure what I was paying for, but Gina said I should trust her. I may have been a bit naive, but for some reason I did trust her. We stopped for dinner before heading back to the hotel.

"Right then, the first thing you need to do is get out of that business suit," Gina said, after we settled in, in my hotel room. "What other clothes do you have?"

"Well, I've got three other business suits."

"Won't do. Won’t do at all. You need something loose and comfortable, that doesn't restrict your movements. Possibly, something baggy. Anything like that?"

"Not really. Well, maybe my silk pajamas."

"Those will be just fine. You go change and I'll get the room ready."

I shrugged my shoulders and went to change into my pajamas. When I returned to the common area, I noticed that most of the lights were off and the coffee table had been pushed away from the couch. Gina was on the couch and invited me to join her.

"All right, this is relaxation 101, stress relief for the underage corporate executive," Gina said, with a giggle. "First I want to go over some basics. The sense of smell has a very powerful effect on the human emotional control center. Different fragrances can strongly influence your different emotions. Some fragrances can make people excited, some can influence happiness, and some can make people sick, while others can actually cause depression. However, what we're interested in is relaxation. I've selected several different incense sticks that will help induce a relaxed state. As you can see I've already put the incense sticks into the holders. The holders are ceramic and they will catch the ash as the incense burns down. The sticks will burn for about thirty minutes, which is just right for a first secession."

Gina lit the incense, one on each end of the coffee table. Then she had me sit on the floor, crossed legged, with my hands resting on my knees. Then she talked me through the processes of selecting a happy, yet calm and relaxing, memory to hold in my mind while I slowly inhaled the aroma of the incense.

"Okay, now close your eyes, breathe normally, and hold that calm relaxing memory in your mind. Just sit there and relax, calm and relaxed."

I don't know if I sat there for half an hour or half the night. At first it was hard to not think about Piermont and the current problems, but as time passed, I was able to control my thoughts, thinking about Piermont less and my calm memory more.

Eventually I heard Gina whisper, "Keep your eyes closed and give me your hands." I lifted my hands off my knees and felt Gina take them in hers.

"Keeping your eyes closed, slowly stand up. I'm here to keep you safe."

With Gina's help I slowly stood, the knees were a little stiff but not worth mentioning. I was trying to hold onto the relaxed state I was in, so I let Gina lead me where she wanted me to go.

"All right, slowly sit down," she instructed.

As I slowly sat down, I realized I was at the edge of a bed. Then Gina helped me rotate, swing my legs up, and lay back. I was so relaxed that I was putty in her hands. Slowly my hands were raised above my head and I was vaguely aware of her fumbling with my wrists. Without any warning or notice, Gina started caressing both of my breasts, through my pajamas. I don't know which was more startling, having my breasts caressed, or my eyes popping open and being face to face with two nipples.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Gina stood up and stepped back, one step. "Do you remember the last time we came to visit at your ranch; you and Susan were getting on the plane to go to Vermont? Your Grandmother had just made you president of the paper division. Do you remember what I told you?"

It took me a few moments before I could recall the events. "You hugged me and whispered in my ear 'We'll have to wait for another day' if my memory is correct."

"Very good, little one. Today - is another day."

"I thought you were teaching me how to relax and relieve stress?"

"We've finished today's lesson in Relaxation 101, and you did very well. Tomorrow we'll continue by adding relaxing sounds to go with the incense and meditation. Tonight we're going to practice a little relaxation via stimulation."

"Yes, mistress. Mistress, is that a leather corset?"

"It is indeed, little one."

"And I see that you shave your, umm -"

"Waxed. A service provided by one of my clients."

"Clients, mistress?"

"We'll discuss that later, little one."

"Yes, Mistress."

~ ~ ~

The following morning, as we were getting ready to go down for breakfast, I asked, "So, what's this about clients?"

"Well, being a psychology major has taught me a lot about human sexuality and the need that some people have to act out certain fantasies or fetishes. There are people that will pay for the privilege of being dominated, humiliated, or tortured sexually. There are even some who pay me to be their mommy and treat them like babies, including diapers and spankings. You don’t know how hard it is to find a baby style dress to fit a full grown adult."

I stared at Gina, dumbfounded by what she was telling me. "You're kidding, right?" I finally managed to say.

"Not at all. Right now I have about twenty clients. Depending on the service I provide, I charge between ten to twenty-five dollars an hour. I'm making enough to pay all my school fees and rent a small house, off campus. Most of my clients are other college students, but some are, well, older."

"That's - I don't know. I use to have dreams about being a slave, but I never considered being one for real, that is until last night. Are you going to charge me for last night?"

“No, little one. You and I have what I consider a special relationship. Now then, shall we get some breakfast?”

After breakfast, we headed back to my office. We chatted a little more about Gina’s side business and her clients. I was still shocked that there were people who needed that kind of service.

I told Gina that I would be in meetings from 10:00 that morning, through most of the afternoon. I called Ian and asked him to arrange for someone to take Gina on a tour of the Jefferson City plant.

About 9:30 Nancy called, telling me that Ian Thorehill was here to see me. Of course I told her to send him in.

“Ian, hello. You didn’t have to come over yourself,” I said, as I greeted him. “Gina, this is Ian Thorehill. He’s the plant manager of the plant here in JC. Ian, this is Gina Marcoti. A longtime friend of the Drake family.”

“A pleasure to meet you Mr. Thorehill,” Gina replied, extending her hand.

“Ian, please. And the pleasure is mine Miss Marcoti,” he responded, gently shaking her hand.

“Ian it is. Please call me Gina.”

“So Ian, are you playing hooky from your responsibilities at the plant?” I inquired

“Off course not, that plants runs so well, I’m almost not needed. Besides, you haven’t been by to see me for a while, so I thought I’d come see you. Not to mention that any friend of yours is a friend of mine.”

“Ian, are you trying to get a raise?” I jokingly asked.

“What, me trying to butter up the boss, never. Besides, she’d see right through anything so sly and mischievous. I just wanted to pass on some information regarding the conversation we had before, about the wildcat.”

I knew immediately what he was referring to, “I remember the conversation. And, the information is?”

“After some investigation I found out who the individuals were, that were pushing the issue. I called them in and calmly explained to them the facts of life. I explained that we were doing everything we can to help them and everyone else from the closed plants. They weren’t happy, but they understood our position.”

“Thanks Ian, have you passed this information to Gerard?”

“Yes, he was informed two weeks ago. Being that you and I had discussed it one on one previously, I thought it would be appropriate to inform you directly.”

“I understand, Ian, and thank you. Well, you two better be off, I’m expecting a full house at ten. Gina, here is the key to the hotel room. I understand they have a nice cafeteria at the plant. After your tour you can have lunch there, on me, I’m sure Ian will take care of you. Or if you’d prefer, I’m sure the receptionist would be happy to call you a cab to take you back into the city. Either way, I’ll see you at the hotel about 6:30.”

“No problem, Darla. Thanks for everything. I’ll see you tonight.”

Gina and I hugged briefly, as some of my executives started coming in, and then Gina and Ian left.

Once everyone was seated, I began “Welcome to the Piermont convention center.” Almost everyone chuckled at the reference to my very oversized office. “Of course, I did have someone compare it to a cathedral, just lacking some stain glass windows. However, I think we’ll call it the office of the President of Piermont Paper, I wonder how big the oval office is?” There was some more chuckling. “Because of recent events, it may be difficult to get an accurate status report from each of you, but let’s give it a go. Bob.”

“Thank you, DD. I’ll leave the reports of the regions to their respective VP’s. As for the Northeast region, I instructed each of the plant managers to continue business as usual. Until we get a handle on what customers, want what products, and when. I gave instructions to produce the most commonly requested products. As it stands right now, we’ve got paper being produced and our sales teams are doing their jobs, so orders are coming in. Our biggest problem right now is in the scheduling of shipments. We used to have forty-one people that did all the scheduling, ten for each region and one supervisor. Right now we have five doing the scheduling for the whole company. The good news is, that our new computer arrived yesterday and is currently being wired together by engineers from IBM.”

“Only five?” I asked.

“That’s all from that department that volunteered to come down, one has requested to be transferred down and the others are only temporary,” Ben added. “I tried to get a few more to come down, but they said they weren’t interested.”

“Thanks Ben. I’m sure you did your best. I think for the next several weeks you should stay here and get busy staffing our headquarters. It sounds like we need a lot of people very fast. Matt, I’m afraid that making the rest of the temporary arrangements in Brandon, will have to fall on your shoulders, for now”

“Right Boss, we’ll do our best to get everything organized,” Matt replied.

“I’m sure the rest of the reports will be about as dreary, but let’s continue, Gerard.”

I was right; the situation across the company was pretty bleak. The warehouses were filling up, but very little was being shipped out. That situation would have to change and change quickly if we were going to survive.

“Well, so that’s the status of our company. Right now it looks pretty bleak, but you know what they say about being on the bottom, there’s no place to go but up. Bill, Ben, I’m going to leave staffing and training of our shipping department in your hands. It’s going to be a tough challenge, but I have every confidence in the two of you.”

“Right, DD,” Bill said.

“We won’t let you down,” Ben added.

“Moving right along. Yesterday, Ron came to me with a proposal that would fall into the category of revisiting old business. So we’ll turn the time over to Ron.”

Ron had indeed been working on his presentation. He condensed it down to about fifteen minutes while still covering the important details. He even included some of the numbers that he used and the savings that could be realized, by consolidating the shipping from a centralized warehouse.

The notion of a centralized warehouse, spurred some additional conversation about the concept of setting up some regional warehouses as distribution centers. Product from multiple plants would be shipped in by rail, which was the most cost effective means of transportation. Trucks would be loaded and dispatched from the distribution center to the customers. The distribution centers would each cover an area so the trucks would not have to travel more than twelve hours, in any direction, to reach their destination.

It was agreed upon by all, that the concept of setting up distribution centers was a good idea, all though somewhat revolutionary, not to mention that it was something that nobody else was doing. It was agreed that we would have to wait until our current crises was well past, before we ventured into setting them up. However, each regional VP was given the go ahead to look at where such distribution centers should be located and to look at the availability of warehouse space, which also had rail service.

As for Ron’s proposal, that was also readily accepted and would be implemented. Bob would arrange for the equipment to be moved from Houston to the respective plants. As soon as we had enough new employees trained at the JC plant, the senior operators from Henderson and Memphis would be released to return to their respective home towns and plants. Initially the plants would be losing money, but we’d install additional equipment as quickly as possible, shifting volume from Greenfield and Concord as needed.

As usual, we’d worked through our catered lunch, discussing the various topics we’d covered to that point. It was just after lunch when Jerry asked for the floor.

“Go ahead Jerry. You know we aren’t that formal,” I replied.

“Well, what I have doesn’t have anything to do with what we’ve talked about, so far, and I wasn’t sure how to break in with a different subject.”

“Okay, new subject, what’s so pressing,” I asked.

“Well, over the last week and a half, I’ve had four independent, paper plant, owners call me, to ask if the rumors were true. Of course, I had to ask them what rumor they were talking about. Each one gave me the same information, almost word for word. They said, they’d been approached by representatives from Alliance, pressuring them to sell out. The representatives made the statement that they might as well sell to Alliance now, while Alliance is still willing to buy them out. The representatives told the owners outright, that Piermont wouldn’t be coming to their rescue, because Piermont is getting out of the Northwest and if they didn’t, someone will finish the job that they started.”

I closed my eyes and let my head droop just a little, as Bob asked, “They didn’t have any more information than that, just that someone will finish the job that was started?”

“They didn’t give me any more information, although I felt there was more they weren’t saying,” Jerry answered.

The chatter grew from there.

With my eyes closed, I slowly shook my head for several seconds. As the chatter died down, I could feel that all the eyes in the room had turned and were looking that the top of my head. I opened my eyes and slowly lifted my head.

“Gentlemen, would you excuse me for a few minutes?” I asked, as I pushed my chair back and stood. I crossed to my leisure area, picked up the phone from the coffee table. Opening the glass door, I stepped out onto the deck.

* * * To Be Continued * * *

Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]

Chapter 3

By Penny Reed Cardon

This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.

It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.

Chapter 3

I set the phone on the table and sat down. I spent several minutes just staring off at the horizon. 'I'm going to miss the mountains of Vermont.' Reaching for the phone, I started dialing a number I knew by heart. It took two calls before I found who I wanted.

"Darla Anne, is that you?"

"Yes Grandma, it's me," I replied, albeit sadly.

"What's the matter dear, you don't sound so good."

"I've had better days," I admitted, as my eyes started watering. "You know, Grandma, there are times I wish I was still eleven years old and could climb on your lap when I needed a hug."

Grandma sounded more concerned than before, "Darla Anne, what's happened."

I dried my eyes and pulled myself together before answering, "I've just found out that Alliance was behind the fire in Brandon."

"Are you sure?"

"We're pretty sure. Their people have been trying to strong-arm some independent paper plant owners around Portland, into selling out. De Forrest's people are telling everyone that Piermont is all but finished, and that if we don't get out of the Northwest they'll finish the job."

"I'm afraid that isn't admissible in court, but it sure sounds like Bobby was behind it. What do you plan to do?"

"After I'm finished talking with you, I'll be going back into my board meeting and announce that were going to war with Alliance. That's kind of what I wanted to talk with you about."

"Go back in - where are you, exactly?"

"I'm on the deck outside my office, in Jefferson City, starring off into the horizon."

"You're on the deck outside your office, through a set of sliding glass doors, and your entire executive staff is sitting around the conference table in your office?"

"Yep, that's about the size of it. I can almost imagine what they're thinking, but right now that isn't important. Grandma, what I wanted to talk about is, after I bought the eleven plants during spring break, Piermont now owns 1,048,000 acres of timber and eight sawmills. Does the wood products division have enough available funds to make purchase of that size?"

"Hmm, I guess that depends on how much you're asking."

"I would conservatively estimate the total value being somewhere between 85 and 95 million. I'd offer it to you for 80 million."

"I tell you what, being that it's you, I'll round it to an even 100 million."

"Oh Grandma you're wonderful. Thank you."

"I'll arrange for the transfer as soon as we hang up. So, what's the next step?"

"Sunday I'll be flying to Portland with a large team. During the next week I plan on buying as many independent plants as possible. Once we figure costs at all the newsprint plants, we'll set one price for newsprint across the nation. Some plants may be running in the red, while others are in the black. As long as the overall average is positive, I think we'll be able to hold our own against Alliance. By doing that, we'll flood the market with inexpensive high quality newsprint. That is until Alliance resumes a normal price structure, at which point we'll do the same."

"I think I know the answer to this question, but I'll ask it anyway. Why are you planning all of that?"

"Because, if I back down from Alliance, it will send a message throughout the industry that I'm weak and that subsequently Ameri-Moore is weak. That simply is not the reputation you've been building for me, or for Ameri-More."

"That’s a good answer dear, a very good answer. I'll be in Portland next week, where are you staying?"

"I don't know yet, plans haven't progressed that far, but as soon as I know I'll leave word with your secretary, where I can be reached."

"That's fine dear; I'll see you sometime next week. You'd better get back to your meeting; you wouldn't want your executives thinking they're working for a crazy woman."

I laughed heartily before I replied, "It's too late for that advice, Grandma; they all know I'm crazy. The good thing is, they’re crazy too, or they would have left a long time ago. Bye Grandma, I love you."

"I love you too dear."

Getting up, I brushed off my skirt and went back inside, setting the phone back on the coffee table. Standing at the head of the conference table, I quickly scanned each of their faces. In each face I read the same thing, I was the boss and where are we going from here? I remained silent for several seconds. The tension in the air was so thick, you could almost cut it with a knife. I remained calm as I began what would commit us to a plan of action, one of two that I’d been considering for several days.

"Jerry, as soon as this meeting is over, I want you on a flight back to Portland. Over the next two days, I want you, or a very trusted member of your staff, to personally contact every independent paper manufacturer in the Northwest. Tell them that Piermont is alive and well; and that I want to meet with them personally. Arrange for someplace where we can all meet together, set it up for Monday afternoon or evening.

“Bill, figure out who to leave in charge of training the shipping department and getting them up to speed, even if it’s someone that still in Brandon. Offer them triple pay, mileage, expenses, whatever it takes and for however long it takes, to get shipping on their feet. Then, I need you and eleven of your best people in Portland Sunday evening. Five can go with Bob in one of the 206's and five more with Ron in the other 206. John, I want you and eleven of your best engineers on the G1 Sunday morning at 8:00.”

"DD, what's going on?" Bob asked, when I stopped to take a breath.

"Gentlemen, a year or so ago, a movie came out that portrayed the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, in 1941. Near the end of that movie Admiral Yamamoto made this statement, when he was praised about the success of their attack. He said 'I fear all we have done is to waken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve'." I paused for just a moment to let those words sink in.

"Now, I don't know if Admiral Yamamoto actually said that, or if it was just a movie line, at this moment it doesn't matter. As of right now, we are that sleeping giant. Not Piermont, but all of Ameri-Moore, you attack one division and the entire company will stand behind you. As of this moment gentlemen, a state of economic war exists between Piermont Paper Products and Alliance Paper International."

There was about 30 seconds, before there was another sound in the room; I assumed that each of my executives was trying to contemplate the meaning of what I'd just said.

As I finally sat down, Bob smiled and asked, "So, what's the battle plan, Admiral Drake?"

"First, while we're recovering from the bombing of our headquarters, we will launch a major offensive. We are going to buy up every independent paper manufacturer in the Northwest that we can get our hands on."

"DD, we have less than 50 million left on our line of credit," Bob interjected.

"That won't be a problem, Bob. As soon as the arrangements are completed, Ameri-Moore will transfer 100 million into our operations account. When you leave for Portland, take the deeds for all the timber lands and sawmills with you. They've just been sold to the wood products division."

"That's who you were on the phone with," Bob summarized.

"Mrs. Moore. The second part of the plan is to figure out the exact cost per ton, at each of our newsprint plants. Then we'll average the costs across the company, to determine a price for newsprint nationwide."

"What do you mean by averaging the cost of all the plants?" Bill asked.

"It means just what it sounds like it means, we'll figure the costs for each plant. Some plants have a higher cost per ton than others. Obviously the plants that still have loans, will have a higher cost, and those without a loan payment, will naturally be able to run at a lower cost. I wish more of our more efficient plants, were debt free. Once we have the cost per ton for each plant, we'll average the costs, to set our price for newsprint. The plants with a higher cost, will be operating in the red, while the plants with lower costs, will run in the black. As long as the average is in the black, we're okay. Any questions so far?"

When no questions were raised I continued, "So, with the 100 million coming from Ameri-Moore, we'll pay cash for everything we buy next week and pay off any of their outstanding debts. I'm assuming, most of those plants will be older, but the advantage of not having a loan payment, will help drive the overall costs down. After next week’s buying trip, we'll need to get the plant costs figured out as quickly as possible. Tom, Bill, that burden will rest with you and your people. Once we have the numbers, Matt's people will go to work, selling newsprint like they've never done before, no discounts, no gimmicks, just one low price and the same terms for everyone 2% 15, 1% 30, NET 45. From the Atlantic, to the Pacific, one price and one set of terms. As we continue to reduce costs, we'll adjust the price down.

"There's one more part of this plan that we all need to work on, and that's how can we reduce costs even more, without cutting quality or maintenance. Any suggestions?"

Once again we sat in silence, as each was consumed with their own thoughts.

Tom came up with the first suggestion, "What about the overseas suppliers, the one's that offered to sell us chemicals by the ship load?"

"That's the idea. Do you have a way of contacting them?" I inquired.

"I'll have to work on that. Their contact information was in my files in Brandon, but I remember enough to point me in the right direction,” Tom explained.

“Great, we’ll let you chase down those leads. Anything else?”

“DD, before considering a new supplier for chemicals, we should give our domestic suppliers a chance to sell at a lower price. After all, they have been good to us in the past, we don’t want to alienate them, do we?” Gerard pointed out.

“And what about import taxes and storage?” Ron added.

“Storage?” Jerry asked.

“Of course storage, we wouldn’t use a whole ship load every month. We’ll have to have someplace to store the ship load and then transport it to the plants as it’s needed,” Ron explained.

“Ron brought up another good point, transportation,” John added. “We’ll either have to buy a small fleet of trucks, or hire a trucking company to move the chemicals. If this is going to be a long term arrangement, we’d be better off buying a trucking firm that’s going out of business. I think it’s a given that any trucking company we hire, is going to want to make a profit and that will add even more to the cost of transportation.”

“What about using the trucks we have now?” Bill asked?

“Our trucks are almost always on the move, delivering to some of our smaller customers,” Matt replied.

“I think we all agree that there are a lot of details to work out before we commit ourselves to buying by the ship load,” I said. “That doesn’t mean it’s a bad idea. I think for right now it’s a very good idea, but one that will need some more research. Any other ideas on how we can cut the cost of newsprint?”

“DD, you said plants that don’t have a loan would run at a lower cost?” John asked.

“Yes, I did. Do you have a quick way of paying off some of our plants?”

“No, but we do have a large plant that isn’t running anything right now,” John replied.

“You’re talking about Franklin?” I replied, as the cartoon character light bulb went on above my head.

“Exactly, I know its set up for bleached paper right now, but it would only take a week, maybe two, to convert those systems so they can run newsprint. Running those three machines two or three shifts a day will crank out a lot of newsprint,” John concluded.

“That’s an excellent idea,” Ron spoke up.

“And that will help with Bob’s goal of getting up to 95% utilization,” Matt added.

“Very good John. I’m sure you’d like to help with the conversions, but I need you in the Northwest next week. You can join the conversion effort after we're finished in the Northwest. Bob, after this meeting give Peter Emos a call and have his people get started on the conversion. John, I think we should send them some help, some people familiar with a newsprint operation. Call Gorham, Millinocket, and Norridgewock, have them each send one engineer to Franklin to help with the conversions.”

We talked about several other options and ideas for some time. Through most of the discussion Bob was silent, nodding from time to time, sometimes smiling, but pretty much silent. That is until I was about to wrap up the meeting.

“DD, with selling the timber lands and sawmills to Ameri-Moore our cost for wood products, be it logs or chips, is going to go up,” Bob said, surprising everyone. “There’s only one way I can see to rectify that problem and that would be for our resident wheeler–dealer to do what she does best.”

“And what would that be, Bob?”

“Make a deal," Bob said with a smile.

"Make a deal?" I questioned.

"With Mrs. Moore, to get our wood supplies from the lumber products division at cost,” he said bluntly.

“Bob, that’s a - that's a tall order, I’ll have to give that some thought. Mrs. Moore will be in Portland next week so we can talk about it, I’ll have to see what we can work out. She may want something in return.” 'And I think I knew what she would want,' I thought.

"One other thing, the Northeast's 206 is still at Rutland," Bob commented.

"We'll take the G1 up there Saturday evening to get the 206, the engineers and accountants," I replied.

"Also, any way you look at it, flying all the way across the country in a 206, is going to be uncomfortable. I'd recommend that we arrange to use the jet, or rent the G1 from Rutland Transair for the week. That would still give us two planes to ferry the teams around."

"That's a good idea Bob, but the jet isn't available. I hadn't thought of using Rutland's G1. Do you think they'd rent the plane without the pilots? You and I can handle the flying, Ron can ride right seat with you to handle the radios. I'll put John in the right seat with me."

John sat up and quickly exclaimed, "DD, I don't know how to fly!"

I looked at John with an evil grin and replied, "We'll talk about that later."

John sat back mumbling, "I guess I'm learning to fly."

"Anything else, anyone would like to discuss?" I asked.

There were a few other ideas brought out and each was discussed. When no other issues were raised I adjourned the meeting, with a few closing comments. "Jerry, we'll see you in Portland, Sunday evening. Bob, get in touch Peter Emos and then with the people in Rutland. We need to know about the G1 so we can make final plans. Bill and John, decide who you want to take and get in touch with them. We'll let them know the exact time of departure as soon as we know it. Nancy, it looks like we're going to need thirty two rooms in Portland Sunday night and Monday night, we'll make other arrangements throughout the Northwest as we know where each team will be. Oh Nancy, one more thing . . . pack a bag, you're going on this one."

"What?" Nancy exclaimed.

I looked at her and nodded.

She looked confused, shrugged her shoulders and said, "Yes ma'am."

Bob stayed after the others had gone; obviously he had something else he wanted to talk about.

“Okay Bob, what’s on your mind?” I asked after we’d moved from the conference table to the lounge area of my office.

“Boss, there’s a couple of things that are bothering me; first, you’re talking of bringing twenty to twenty-five plants into the group all at once. As you’ve said before, that’s a pretty big mouthful to chew at one time. Second, and I think this is my biggest concern, with all that newsprint, our balance of diversification is going to be way off. We’ll be at about 60% newsprint, perhaps more. That just doesn’t make for a wise business plan.”

“I agree completely, Bob. And if it weren’t for fire and the remarks by Robert De Forest’s people, I would have never considered buying any more newsprint plants in the Northwest, or anywhere else for that matter. I honestly felt that with us having those 15 plants, Bobby would have seen that it would be wiser to resume normal pricing, rather than to run at a loss. I never expected that he would stoop so low as to arrange for someone to torch our headquarters. Our only other option would be to tuck our tail between our legs and scurry back East of the Mississippi. Is that what you think we should be doing?”

“No, DD, of course not. I’m just concerned about the product balance and having so many eggs in one basket.”

“I agree, having so much of one product isn’t good for business. How about this, we’ll figure the costs for the plants in the Northwest running one shift, that’s what most of them are doing anyway. Then, after things settle down we can consolidate the newsprint into a third, to one half, of the plants, running two to three shifts in each, and convert the other plants over to run our other product lines, white paper, computer paper, Kraft paper, boxes and a bagging operations as well. We can even take the slowest plants and run some of the Mo Paper, Plymouth, and Appalachian specialty items. To keep the transportation costs down, any orders for distribution west of the Continental Divide, will come from the plants in the Northwest. Does that make you feel better about what we’re doing?”

“That makes a lot of sense. Before you return to school this fall, we should sit down and decide which plants to convert, to what product. Then as demand for those products grow, I can proceed with the conversions and get the new products moving. The only other thing that has me concerned is this; how do you think Mr. De Forest is going to respond. You know he isn’t going to take this laying down.”

Bob and I discussed several options concerning what Bobby might do and how to protect ourselves. In the end, we agreed on several measures that could be taken to protect our people, our plants, and our reputations.

After Bob left, I called John and asked him to write up an evaluation checklist with as much detail as he felt was pertinent. For consistency, we'd have the four engineering teams use the same checklist as they performed their inspections. We would have his hand written list typed and duplicated, Monday afternoon, once we arrived in Portland.

Bob came back about an hour later. Being that we'd chartered the G1 on several occasions, and seeing that both Bob and I were certified to fly them, they agreed to rent us the plane without the pilots. So with two G1's we solidified our plans. We'd take everyone that was going from Jefferson City, in the Piermont G1, to Rutland, Saturday afternoon. Both planes would be loaded and take off from Rutland at 8:00 am, bound for Portland. This will be a first for Bob and me; neither one of us had any experience flying in formation.

Being that Bob was able to arrange for the second G1, we would have some empty seats. When we were limited, I couldn't utilize the personnel I wanted. With that limitation lifted, I made some calls and arranged for a couple more people to fly out.

I also had Bob call Mike O'Neill, our flight instructor, to see if he wanted to help with shuttling teams around. I thought about having Ron fly the Southeast's 206, to Portland for me to use, hopping from site to site. I decided that ten and a half hours in a small plane would be asking a bit much. So, I called the Ameri-Moore office in Portland and asked them to arrange to rent a small plane for my use. Being that I had my multi-engine rating, I wasn't too concerned with what arrangements they'd make, as long as it was at least as fast as a 206.

After the planes were taken care of, I rearranged some other personnel and assignments. We were going to be running four evaluation teams and I wanted an executive either on, or to accompany each team. Bob Warren would accompany team one, Bill Marshal would be a member of team two, John Fahey would be a member of team three, and Ron Collins would accompany team four. Nancy would be stationed in the regional office, coordinating the evaluation assignments for each team, arrange for motel rooms and transportation throughout the week. I kind of wanted a traveling companion for myself, as I bounced around from team to team. I wondered if Grandma or Susan would like to join the circus. Ben Phillips would stay in JC and work of the staffing requirement for our headquarters. Gerard would stay in Jefferson City, looking after the company and the computer restoration project, while everyone else is in the Northwest. Gerard was also to keep tabs on the conversion of the paper machines at Franklin. Matt Piermont's job was to keep sales moving; we were going to need all the cash we could get our hands on.

Nancy called to let me know of the hotel and travel arrangements, in Portland, for Sunday night and Monday. I then called Grandma's Portland office and left word with them, so Grandma would know where to find me.

Just before I left for the day, I picked up the issue of Log Views looking for a phone number. It took several calls before I was connected with the person I wanted.

"Hello, this is Rick Landis."

"Hellllooo Ricky darrrling, it's so thrilling to speak with you again," I answered in the sweetest, most seductive voice I could muster.

"Umm, who is this?"

"Ricky, after the years you spent chasing me, and those - gloooorious hours we spent together on my ranch in Texas, and you don't remember me? I'm crushed Ricky, simply crushed," I teasingly answered.

There were a few moments of silence before Rick ventured to ask, "DD?"

Giggling, I replied using my normal voice, "The one and only. How have you been Rick?"

"I'll tell you in a couple of minutes, after my heart stops racing. I was really sweating for a few minutes, wondering who I'd forgotten, but I'm doing great now. I have to admit you had my curiosity screaming at me like it never had before. What was that hello all about?"

"Well Rick, I'll tell you. The seductive voice was just having a little fun on my part and making sure I had your attention. What I'm calling about will become clear in a few moments. You no doubt heard about the fire at our headquarters in Brandon two weeks ago?"

"Oh yes, we heard about that, it made national news. Everyone has been talking about it since it happened, speculating how it started and what you're going to do next. What are you going to do?"

"Well Rick, being that you've been one of my most loyal supporters, I'm going to give you the story of the decade. By the way, when's the deadline for the next edition and when will it be distributed?"

"About twenty minutes from now and early next week. Do I need to call my editor and have the run put on hold?"

"No, not this issue, but he may want to run a special addition after you get the whole story. What I'd like you to print in this edition are three little sentences, they should go something like this; One, 'Inside sources have confirmed that Piermont Paper has suffered a staggering blow, as a result of the fire at their headquarters in Brandon Vermont several weeks ago.’ Two, ‘Reports are, that it may take more than a year for Piermont to fully recover from this devastation.’ And three, ‘Initial recovery steps have been taken this week, as Piermont relocated its headquarters operations into one of the office buildings, that they had acquired in one of their many buyouts.'

"Of course I'm not a journalist that can give those three sentences the proper flair. I'll leave that up to you. This is just the teaser and you're free to send this to the folks at Paper Press, in fact I wish you would. In fact, I'd like that to appear in the Spokane newspapers as soon as possible. Now then, if you want the rest of the story, you'll need to meet me at our Northwest regional headquarters, near Portland, next Friday."

"Inside sources? You mean I can't quote you?"

"Of course you can quote me - when I say 'inside sources'."

"No, no, I mean I can't say that I'm quoting DD or DD has confirmed?"

"Not with this little piece. Like I said, this is just the teaser. I'll be honest with you Rick, I'm using you. I hoping that by you printing what I've given you, certain individuals will sit back in their overstuffed leather chairs and relax."

"Certain individuals? DD, are you saying -"

I quickly interrupted Rick, saying, "Officially I'm not saying anything."

"But, you're implying something."

"I'm not implying anything, other than what I've asked you to print. If you want the rest of the story, you'll have to meet with me next Friday."

"What? Nothing more than those few words? DD, you're killing me here! You know that don't you? You're just killing me!"

"I'm sorry Rick, but it has to be this way. Friday, you'll understand everything and believe me, it will be worth it to you. And the credit for the story will be all yours."

"DD, you're giving me an exclusive? You're not giving this story to anyone else?"

"I'm just talking with you. Who you allow to reprint or sell the story to, will be up to you."

"DD, I don't know what to say."

"Say you'll meet me next Friday."

"Oh, yes, of course I'll meet you. Nothing could keep me away. But why are you giving me an exclusive?"

"Ask anyone who works for me, I like to reward loyalty. By the way, you don't by chance know where your printing department buys its newsprint, do you?"

"I'm not sure, but I think it’s from A - Alliance . . . Paper."

"Oh, I'm sorry. You don't own any stock in Alliance, do you?"

"Ahh, no, no I don't. Are you saying that you're going after -"

"I'm not saying anything, Rick. Except, that if you want the exclusive story you need to see me next Friday."

"DD, wild horses from Texas couldn't keep me away," Rick seemed a bit excited.

"Great, I'll see you on Friday, Rick. Bye now."

"Goodbye DD."

I met Gina at the hotel and we went out for dinner. I explained that we’d be taking her home on Saturday, instead of Sunday. Of course, that led to a conversation about the plans for the following week. Being that she wasn’t part of my executive team, I didn’t tell her all the details. What I did tell her, made her realize just how much stress I was under.

When we got back to the hotel, Gina again had me change into my pajamas and then she proceeded to educate me about different aids that could be used to help me relax. Tonight’s lesson was around relaxing sounds, like songbirds across a meadow, the ocean gently lapping on a peaceful beach, and the sound of rain on a tin roof.

Again I found myself sitting on the floor with my hands on my knees, the incense was burning, and tonight I heard ocean waves gently washing in and out, as I was thinking of cuddling with Auntie when I was little.

“Are you still awake?” Gina whispered.

“Yes, I’m awake.” My voice sounded a little funny to my ears. I’m sure it was my imagination, but I sounded like I was eleven.

“Come on little one, time for bed.”

Gina hadn’t told me to keep my eyes closed, so I opened them. I was a little surprised to find her wearing a pair of emerald green pajamas.

Gina answered the question in my eyes, “You need your sleep tonight, little one. Tonight we’ll just cuddle.”

With everything that was going on in my life a nice cuddle sounded wonderful. Gina joined me in bed, put her arms around me and gently stroked my hair. The next thing I remembered was Gina gently shaking me.

“Time to wake up, little one,”

After showering and getting dressed, we packed our luggage and I checked out of the hotel. I thanked the desk clerk for the hotel’s hospitality and informed them that I’d be back in about a week. After a quick breakfast, we headed for the office.

I had been thinking about the conversation I'd had with Bob, about consolidating newsprint production and running the specialty products at some of the plants. That line of thinking made me decide to change the inspection teams around a little, because I wanted John with me, so he could get at least a quick look at each plant.

I called John and ask him to arrange for one more engineer, making that twelve engineers. Then I called Gerard and ask him to be prepared to join one of the inspiration teams. The final step in the reorganization, was to call Ian Thorehill. It would be Ian's job to monitor the status of the company, the ongoing projects, and to contact Nancy if any problems arose. Nancy in turn, would alert Bob or myself, so we could contact Ian for more details and to give him instructions.

With the finally arrangements completed, Bob, Gina, and I went to the airport to preflight the G1, so it would be ready to go when the others arrived. As we rounded the last hangar, I got my first look at the plane I'd purchased the previous fall. I hadn't seen it for several weeks and was surprised by what I saw.

"Who on earth did that to my airplane?" I demanded.

"What do you mean," Bob started, and then continued. "Oh, you haven't seen the new paint job. Victor Roskelley, the man we hired for the Fleet Operations Manager, thought it would be a good idea to add our major marketing brand names to the fleet of trucks, below the Piermont Paper Products logo."

"That's fine, but that doesn't explain what happened to my airplane," I said.

Gina was giggling.

"Well, Victor heard we had some airplanes and he thought they should have the same logos on them."

"So, you're telling me that all our trucks and planes look like this?"

"Well, not exactly," Bob confessed. "You see, Victor also heard that this was your airplane and that you came up with the idea for the notebooks, and-"

"So, Victor talked to you about this paint job, and you approved it?"

"We did talk about it, however, my impression of what he was planning and what he actually did, aren't quite the same thing."

"This is terrific, I'm probably the only one in the country with a Flower-Power airplane."

"Well, I think the folks for Rowan & Martin have a jet that looks kind of similar. I'm sure that their plane doesn't have our logos on the tail and under the windows."

"I guess that's something,” I glumly agreed.

“If my opinion counts for anything, I think it’s kind of cool,” Gina added.

“Answer this question for me, Bob. Does it bother you to fly around the country, in a Flower-Power airplane?" I asked.

"Honestly, I've been mostly using the Northeast's 206. This kind of does something funny to my insides when I get to close. Bringing her down from Rutland was the first time I've flown her since Victor's paint job. The round trip Thursday and Friday, I tried to ignore it.”

“It does something funny to your insides? Like what?"

"Well . . . it makes me want to go walking through a meadow bare foot, lay in a field of wild flowers and watch the clouds float by."

"Careful there, Bob. We wouldn't want you to lose yourself in the free love movement that's sweeping the country," I cautioned.

"Oh no, it’s nothing like that. But perhaps I should look into taking a little more time off."

"Bob, you should bring your wife and kids down to the ranch for a week. Ride the horses, relax, and just spend some time in the great outdoors. We have lots of extra room."

“Am I invited to visit the ranch?” Gina asked.

“Any time you want. Just let us know in advance, so my sisters and I can juggle our schedules,” I replied.

"Spending some time on your family’s ranch sounds like a good idea. After we get all the new plants integrated, I could take some time . . . No, that won't work. By then the kids will be in school."

"It’s okay, Bob. Somehow we'll find you some time to relax. After the next couple of months, you're going to need it. I don't need to get a phone call from Nancy, telling me that you're running around the offices barefoot, wearing Bermuda shorts and tie died shirt, with several strings of love beads around your neck." I had to laugh at his expression. "In the meantime, let's get this plane ready to fly." I shook my head, as we started on the preflight check list for Flower-Power one.

We finished the preflight, just as people started showing up. There were a lot of comments about the paint job.

Bob and Ron flew from Jefferson City to Newark, while I sat in back with Gina. I was flying left seat from Newark to Rutland, and was a little surprised when I called Rutland control. I identified my aircraft according to regulations, "Rutland control, this is Gulfstream, November Two One Six Papa Papa. We are a hundred miles out, requesting weather conditions and landing instructions."

"Gulfstream, November Two One Six Piermont Paper, this is Rutland control. The skies are clear, with unlimited visibility. Winds are ten miles per hour, West by Northwest, with gusts to eighteen. You are cleared to land on runaway one, one. There is nothing else in the pattern. Welcome home Piermont One."

I looked at Bob for an explanation. He just shrugged his shoulders.

"Confirmed Rutland control, landing on runaway one, one, two one six."

I looked at Bob, "Piermont Paper, instead of Papa Papa?"

"They know which planes are ours and they've been using that designation for a while now. I guess they've got family working at one of our plants."

"I suppose. What about Piermont One? Is that their normal designation for this plane?"

"Actually, I've never heard that phrase used before. They've never used it, when I've been flying her. I guess they recognize your voice."

"Oh great, now I'm being saluted over the radio," I moaned.

"You know, boss. I've heard of other planes being nicknamed by air traffic controllers. There's a Gulfstream 1, number N234MM, that flies all over the country. Most air traffic controllers refer to it simply as, ‘Mickey Mouse’."

"Mickey Mouse?"

"It's Walt Disney's plane."

"Well, I guess that makes sense. I'm surprised that Walt Disney flies a G1. I figured him as a jet person. Wait a second, you said they've been referring to our planes as Piermont Paper inside of Papa Papa for a while. This is the only plane whose identification ended with PP. The Northeast's 206 ends with MV and the Southeast's ends with NR."

"Um, not anymore," Bob confessed. "When they started using Piermont Paper for the G1 we got permission from the FAA to change the others. Both the 206's have new identification numbers ending in PP. I also have three registration numbers reserved ending in PP for when we have planes in the Midwest, Northwest, and Southwest regions."

"Well, I see you're planning ahead, as usual, but I think you need to plan for one more."

"One more?"

"Yes. We'll talk about it later, for now, let's land this bird."

I felt that my landing was a little rough due to not having flown for a while, but nobody said anything. I was hoping I could sneak in a few touch and goes before we left Sunday morning, but it wasn’t meant to be. It was more important to spend a couple of hours with John, teaching him what he needed to know about navigation and the navcom radios.

Sunday morning, we lifted off at 8:00 sharp. I led off in Piermont’s G1 with Bob following behind and on my port side. We climbed to our planned cruising altitude of 24,000 feet and headed for Sioux Falls, South Dakota, where we planned to stop for fuel, lunch, and a restroom break. From Sioux Falls to Portland, Bob led and I followed. It was during this leg of our flight that I decided to let John know how I envisioned his job evolving and about him making a decision.

"So, John, what do you think of flying?"

"I've always thought flying was a fine way to travel."

"No, I mean doing the flying?"

"Well, the way you talked the meeting, last Friday. I assumed the decision was made and I'd have to learn."

"John, as the VP of Production Engineering, your role in the company, will be making some rapid changes. In the next few months, you'll be doing a lot more traveling than you have in the past."

"More traveling? DD, in the last six months, the longest I've been home at any one time, is thirty-five days. I guess it's a good thing I'm single."

"That reminds me of something else we need to discuss, since we made you a VP, we haven't appointed a new chief engineer for Brandon. I'd like you to make a recommendation of the current engineers, to fill that role."

"But, DD, I thought I was doing okay handling both jobs, like Bob has been Executive VP and Brandon plant manager."

"John, please don't take this the wrong way; you've been doing a superb job of handling all the craziness I've thrown at you. I couldn't be happier with you and how well you've handled everything. But, the company is changing and the demands on you and your time are going to increase, which is one reason why I think you need your pilots’ license. Also, with you gone so much, Brandon needs someone that can devote their full attention to seeing to the needs of that plant. By the way, it hasn't been publicly announced yet, but Bob decided to make the move to JC, which means I'll be looking for a VP for the Northeast region, after we're finished in the Northwest. Of course, I was planning to appoint one sometime this summer, to take some of the load off Bob's shoulders. The fire kind of threw everyone’s plans into a tailspin."

"Are you saying, I need to move to JC?"

"I would like to have you in JC, there's no denying that, but I'm not going to force you to move. However, in your roll as VP, you will be doing more overseeing of projects, like the conversion at Franklin. I'm sorry you can't be there this week, but I want you to have a good look at each of the plants we're buying. Bob and I were discussing the problems of having so much newsprint, versus our other products and we’ve decided the best way to handle the situation would be to consolidate the newsprint in the Northwest to the medium speed plants. The lower speed plants we will shut down, for four weeks. At each plant we'll overhaul all the equipment, clean and repaint the buildings, and set them up to run the specialty products. The high-speed plants will likewise be refurbished to run the regular Piermont products. Essentially, what we want to achieve is, that orders for delivery west of the Continental Divide will come from plants in the Northwest. As the VP of Production Engineering, you would be overseeing all of the overhaul and conversions. Besides the conversions, you'll be overseeing the engineering, maintenance staff, and procedures at all the other plants."

"DD, that's a lot to handle. I don't know if I'm ready for all that."

“John, you’ve already been doing everything I’ve described, it just wasn’t formally put into words.”

“What do you mean?”

“John, who do I normally take with me when I’m looking at a new acquisition, to evaluate the equipment and give me an estimated value? You, almost every time. Who was it that oversaw the conversions of the equipment when we started producing the novelty napkins, the construction paper, and all the other specialty items for the Mo Paper and Appalachian Paper product lines? You did. With each plant or company we’ve purchased, who evaluated the performance of each of the engineering teams and the equipment maintenance? You did. If the maintenance schedules weren’t up to our standards, who worked with the teams, and brought the equipment and teams up to our standards? You did. The only thing you haven’t done yet, is go back and verify that everything, and everyone, is maintaining our high standards.”

“When you spell it out so plainly, I guess I have been doing the job that you described. So why do I need to learn to fly?”

“First, as you know, the company is growing by leaps and bounds. Second, because up until now we’ve had the luxury of having Ameri-Moore’s jet to get you and your people around. The demand on the company jet is becoming much greater and we won’t be able to count on its availability. Lastly, because if I know you, you’ll be traveling more than Bob does.”

“More than Bob? Why do you think that?”

“Think about it, as the Exec VP, Bob will have all the Regional VP’s to delegate to and he’s okay with that most of the time. In the four years that I’ve known you, I’ve come to understand, that if you aren’t in the thick of things and busy all the time, you tend to get a little . . . sulky.”

“Sulky?”

“Relax John. It’s not a bad sulky, more of a high level of commitment with suddenly nothing to do, kind of sulky. Believe me when I say, I’m very pleased with your level of commitment, which is why I think you need to learn to fly. Right now the company has three planes, one designated for the Northeast region, one for the Southeast region, and our, umm, Flower-Power G1. I'm going to get Victor for this," I said, with a giggle. "In time, each of the other regions will have their own plane, so the regional VP’s can get around to each of their plants more efficiently. That will tie up most of our planes, most of the time, and with you needing to get around more, I think that you will need your own plane.”

“Wait a second; did you say that I would have my own plane?”

“You heard me correctly; you’ll need your own plane. Something that is fast enough, so you can use it to get around and visit each of the plants in a reasonable amount of time, but yet large enough, that you can transport a team of engineers when needed, along with cargo space for tools and the parts you may need for a special project. How does that sound to you?”

“It sounds just a bit overwhelming, but on the other hand, it should be an interesting challenge. What’s the first step?”

Reaching down on the left side of my seat, I pulled up a small package. “The first step is to learn the requirements. Take these books and study them, that should give you something to do next week while you’re killing time in the various motel rooms,” I said, as I passed the package across the center console. “When you’re ready, you need to take the FAA written exam. Then we’ll get you set up with an instructor, Mike is very good. If you push it, you can have your license in six to eight weeks. Then we’ll get you checked out in one of the Cessna 206’s. After that, you’ll need to work on your multiengine rating, using the G1. In the meantime, you can start looking around at the various planes that are available, to decide what you want.”

"Pilots license, my own plane, I guess this means you want me to stay on as the VP of Production Engineering?"

I looked over at John for a moment, "What have we been talking about? Of course I want you as my VP. I trust and rely on your knowledge and judgment."

"So, I do need to move to Jefferson City!"

"John, as I told you before, I would like you in JC. It will make the working relationship between you, me, and the other department heads much easier. But I will not force you to move. Bob and I discussed your situation. We concluded that it wasn't absolutely necessary for you to be in JC. You could perform almost all of your duties while being based out of Brandon. I realize that to you, Brandon is home and it will always be home, but that doesn't mean that you can't spend time away from home. That being said; let me propose something else for you to think about. What would you think about spending summers in Brandon and winters in JC?"

"Hmm, I hadn't thought about that. You said I'd be able to perform most of my duties from Brandon. What wouldn't I be able to do from there?"

"Well, for one, you wouldn't be available for those spur of the moment rush out, evaluate, and buy quick, trips that we like so much."

"And those trips are always such fun," John added softly. "You said I could choose my own plane?"

"Anything within reason, and it has to have propellers. You can't land and take off from a grass airstrip in a jet. It will also simplify maintenance if our fleet is all propeller driven."

"So, I'm looking for something that can keep up with the G1, that is propeller driven, and the ability to carry passengers, as well as cargo. That might take some time to fill that order."

"I'm sure you'll find something. One thing I learned about you is, that once you set your mind on a challenge, you've always come up with a solution."

"Thanks DD."

We landed in Portland and taxied to the tie downs, in front of the Ameri-Moore hangar. As we came to a stop and shut down the engines, an arranged for charter bus, pulled up between us and the hangar. Mike O’Neill helped me secure Piermont's G1, while Bob and Ron took care of the other one. As we were loading the last of the luggage onto the bus, the fuel truck we'd arranged for, pulled up. So, our departure from the airport was delayed, while Bob and I supervised the fueling of the two planes. While the guys from the fuel truck were busy, Bob and I took a few minutes to admire a Beechcraft, King Air, B90 that was tied down one space away from the G1's.

The trip to the Embassy Suites took about twenty minutes, but it took almost an hour to get our thirty people checked in. Bob and I stood by, as each of our people were registered and checked-in. With this large of a group, we wanted to make certain there were no problems. When it was finally my turn, I was handed an extra envelope, addressed simply to 'Darla Anne Drake.'

Bob was watching me with a curious expression, as I studied the mysterious envelope, before gently ripping it open.

Smiling, I looked up at Bob, "It's a note from Mrs. Moore. She's arrived earlier today and wants me to call her once I'm settled in here."

"Then we should get you upstairs, so you can get settled and give her a call," Bob replied.

"I'll give her a call and see what I can do for her," I said, as we stepped into the elevator. "In the meantime, why don't you look over the restaurant advertisements that are usually left in the rooms and see where would be a good place to take everyone for dinner?"

I figured I would only be staying at the suites for two nights, so there was really no reason to completely unpack. I put my suitcase on the bed picked up the phone.

"Hello."

"Hi Grandma, its Darla Anne."

"Hello dear, how was the flight? I assume you were flying that new plane of yours?"

"Yes, I was flying Piermont's G1. Bob Warren was flying a G1 we rented from Rutland TransAir."

"Two planes, how many people did you bring?"

"All total we've got thirty."

"Thirty people, and you're staying at the Embassy Suites?"

"I ask Nancy the same question when she informed me of the arrangements. She told me that there is some big convention in Portland this weekend and none of the larger, but less expensive, hotels weren't able to provide thirty rooms. I think my negotiation skills must be rubbing off on everyone. Nancy also told me that she'd negotiated a fifteen percent discount on the block of rooms."

"We'll, that makes it a little better, I suppose. So, when do you want to get together?"

"Well, I've got to get our people some dinner, we'll probably walk to someplace close by. In the morning we'll have breakfast here at the hotel. The Embassy Suites does a 'Made to Order' breakfast, which I'm sure is included in the price of the room. Personally, I'd rather have Tony's French Toast, but there's no sense in paying for breakfast twice."

"I'll agree with you there. This is private enterprise not the US Government. We don't believe in paying twice what something is worth."

"Exactly. We've arranged for a charter bus that will take everyone to the Northwest Region headquarters at 1:00. So, I'll be available most of tomorrow morning."

"I'll be in my office most of the morning. I have a meeting with the Executive VP's from the other three divisions at 11:00. Being that you're in town, you might as well attend."

"I've never heard of you holding a top executives meeting before. When did you start that?"

"This is our first one. After sitting in on the meeting with you and your executives in Brandon, after the fire, I thought I'd try something a little more informal. If it works out, I think we'll meet once every quarter. I may not be a spring chicken, but I can still learn a thing or two."

"That's terrific. I'll get a cab in the morning and be there at 9:00. We'll talk about the details of what I'm planning and then attend the meeting at 11:00."'

"Very good, I'll see you at 9:00, dear. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Grandma."

Dinner was nothing special, we found an 'all you can eat' buffet close by. For that type of restaurant, the food was pretty good.

* * * To Be Continued * * *

Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]

Chapter 4

By Penny Reed Cardon

This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.

It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.

Monday July 10,1972

After a long day of flying, I was pretty beat and went to bed fairly early. Being an early riser, I dressed in what I hoped would be a lucky suit and went down to breakfast. I knew the French Toast they were serving couldn't compare to Tony's, so I ordered an omelet, with some hash browns on the side. Not seeing any of our people, I found a large empty table and sat down, where I could observe the comings and goings.

Shortly after I'd sat down, our people started drifting into the serving area, in three's and four's. It was interesting, although a bit sad, to observe how few crossed the imaginary Cast system boundaries. The engineers sat with engineers and the accountants sat with accountants. The VP's, being in a different Cast, sat with me.

As I walked through the reception lobby and the executive offices, at Ameri-Moore's headquarters, everyone greeted me by name. I only recognized some of them, but returned each greeting cheerfully. It was a few minutes before 9:00, when I said hello to Grandma's secretary. She returned my greeting and we chatted for a few moments before she informed Grandma that I was here.

Grandma was on the couch in the casual area of her office, "Darling, it's so good to see you. It seems like it's been weeks and weeks since I've seen you. You still need that hug?"

"It has been weeks, well almost two weeks to be exact, and yes I could still do with a hug," I said, as I crossed to the couch and sat next to Grandma.

"As long as you don't sit on my lap, you're welcome to all the hugs you want," Grandma said, as we embraced. "You've grown a bit in the last six years."

I relaxed in Grandma's arms, as I felt some of the stress of the last two weeks disappear. "Thanks Grandma, I really needed that."

"So, tell me how the recovery is progressing."

"Actually, in that arena, things are going really well. Word of the fire spread throughout the industry like, well . . . like a wild fire. Tuesday morning, after the fire, the first of our suppliers called, asking what they could do to help. Tom Harris got with me and we decided that the best thing was to have them send a copy of any unpaid invoices, with COPY stamped on the invoice. That way we can match up the copies we receive, with what came out of fireproof vaults. By Thursday, all of our suppliers had contacted us, along with most of our customers. We asked the customers to send us a copy of the invoices we've sent them over the last month, also stamped COPY, and to indicate if the invoice had been paid. With all the copies coming in, we'll know if our people followed procedure and put everything into the vaults, before they went home.

"Of course, everyone was given the new mailing address, for the offices in Jefferson City. By last Friday, the post office was delivering mail in boxes, at the loading dock, rather than hand carried in the front door."

"It sounds like you should have everything back to normal in a few more weeks," Grandma commented.

"Perhaps sooner, the new computer arrived last Thursday. By now it should be wired up and most of the preliminary testing, by IBM, should be finished. Then they'll load our applications and run through another several days of testing. Somewhere between this coming Friday and the following Monday, we should be ready to go back on line."

"That's wonderful, dear."

"Yes, it's a good thing we had a building with a computer center, ready to go. As you know, we really would have been scrambling without Roy Blu's foresight. I'm going to have the office buildings in Asheville and Owosso prepared with computer centers, as a 'just in case' measure. I don't think anyone will set fire to the new headquarters building, that would be too obvious, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

"I agree, another fire would be unexplainable. I also agree with your move to using a computer for Piermont's accounting. I like the idea so much that I'm going to have computer centers set up in the textile division and the cattle division, headquarter buildings. Along with setting up for a computer here in our Portland office building."

"Grandma, that's wonderful. What changed your mind about using computers?"

"Computers are something I've been considering for some time. But, it was the fire in Brandon that convinced me that the time had come to move forward with those plans."

"You think someone might attack Ameri-Moore?"

"No dear, but you never know when or where a natural disaster may strike. Being able to recover, as quickly as you're doing is well worth the expense. I think of the expense as disaster recovery insurance."

"I hadn't thought of it that way. I'll have to talk with Bill Marshal and see if we can write off the computer lease payment as disaster recovery insurance. In any case, with a computer in each division, we would be able to back up each other. That way if something happens to one division, the others could step in and take over, until they're back on their feet, with almost no interruption of services."

"I hadn't thought of going that far, dear, but that's a terrific idea. That's why I enjoy our private talks, you teach me all the new tricks."

"But Grandma, I thought I was learning from you."

"Who said learning was a one way street? Now tell me all about your battle plans with Alliance."

I explained in detail everything I had planned, from the buyouts of those that wanted to sell, to using the news media against Alliance. Grandma sat quietly, as I detailed the plans I'd made.

"You've put a lot of thought into this, but I have to ask, what about those who don't want to sell out?" Grandma asked.

"I've been thinking about that, but I haven't come up with a solution. I can't, and don't want to force anyone, to sell their company to Piermont. If I tried to do anything like that, I'd be no better than Alliance."

"On the other hand, if you do nothing your low pricing strategy will have the same effect, you'll drive them out of business."

"Exactly. I just haven't come up with a plan that doesn't have a negative effect on the other remaining independent manufacturers. There has to be one, I just can't think of what it might be."

"Have you considered offering them a limited partnership?"

"A what?"

"A limited partnership. Let me explain."

For the next half hour we discussed a plan that would allow Piermont to compete with Alliance on our terms, while preserving the independent manufacturers. It was about ten thirty, when I changed the topic of discussion. "Grandma, I have one more item we need to discuss."

"What's that, dear?"

"It's something that Bob Warren brought to my attention, after we talked last Friday. He reminded me that by selling the timber lands and sawmills to the lumber division, our cost for wood products will be going up, at a time when we're trying to drive costs down. He suggested that I do a little wheeling and dealing with you."

"You know I'll help wherever I can, what did you have in mind?"

"I was hoping we could work something out, where the lumber division would sell wood chips or logs, to Piermont's newsprint plants at cost. Only as long as we are in a price war with Alliance. Once Alliance calls it off and goes back to their normal pricing, then we'll do the same and of course, we'd expect to pay our normal price to the lumber division."

"That's more than I imagined. That will actually effect the bottom line for the lumber division. I'll have to think about that." Grandma paused for a few moments, then added "You mentioned a little wheeling and dealing, you've explained the dealing, now what kind of wheeling are you prepared to offer?"

"I'm prepared to offer you something you've wanted for the last three years."

"You don't mean?"

"I do. If the lumber division will sell at cost, all of the wood products needed by Piermont's newsprint plants, for the duration of the price war; I, along with the bulk of my executive staff, will assume operational management of the textile division, after I graduate next June, of course."

"Oh sweetheart, I know I said I'd like you to work your magic on the textile division; but I never intended for you to assume control."

"I know you didn't, Grandma. For some time now, the rumors have been saying that I've been running the division from behind the scenes. If I'm going to be accused of running the division, I might as well step out of the shadows, assume direct control, and restore the division’s profitability. Also, you and I both know that the real magic at Piermont has been coming from the management team that we've put together."

"What will everyone say about moving to Texas?"

"Who said anything about moving? We'll treat it like any other company that we've taken over. We'll temporarily move our people into management positions, evaluate the overall operation, evaluate each member of the management team, make whatever changes are necessary, and in general, inspire productivity with excitement, innovation, and incentives. And while we're at it, I'll take Judy under my wing, so to speak, and teach her what she needs to know to be the Division President."

"Oh Darla Anne, that's exactly what that division needs, a shot in the arm of youthful exuberance and fire. There's no way that I, or any of the existing management, would be able do what you're capable of doing. Are you sure you need one more year of schooling?"

"Yes. You know that I take my education very seriously. Besides, we've got the situation with Alliance to take care of and I want to give my people time to learn the textile industry. I'll tell them about the temporary assignment during the semester break, next January. I'd like a copy of the last ten years reports to hand out, at that time. Also, I don't think we should mention any of this to Mr. Edwards, until my team and I move in."

"I agree, the fewer that know about you taking charge the better. If word got out, some people may leave out of fear of the unknown."

"Exactly, I wouldn't want to lose good personnel, just because of the fear factor. Have you set up the off shore manufacturers that we talked about?"

"I've been doing some scouting for likely sights, but I haven't made any decisions as yet."

"I think you should go ahead with those plans. As we've discussed, the price of the competition’s every day clothes, has dropped below our cost. The only way to remain competitive is, to follow they're lead. But don't close all of the domestic factories, I have some ideas for upscale and high quality clothes, that can be produced domestically."

"What do you mean, dear?"

"I don't want to reveal any of my plans this early in the game, because right now, they're nothing more than vague ideas. But, I'm thinking of doing something like we did with the paper products. We'll develop a name brand for children's wear and one for young adults in every day wear, which will be what we import. Then another brand for special event wear, and a brand of high class, high quality wear."

"Oh yes, I like it. Are you sure we have to wait until next June?"

"Yes, it will have to wait. Grandma, it's almost eleven, don't we have a meeting to get to?"

"Yes, of course. We're meeting in the small conference room, down the hall. I guess we should be going, we don't want to be late."

Grandma led the way, as we entered the conference room we were greeted by the executive VP's from the other three divisions. I exchanged greetings with each of my counterparts, Mr. Patrick Malone for the Lumber division, Mr. Eric Jameson for the Cattle division, and Mr. John Edwards for the Textile division.

"Welcome everyone and thank you for coming," Grandma started, after everyone was seated. "I attended another executive meeting not too long ago. I was surprised at how informally it was conducted. I was equally surprised at how much was accomplished in such an informal setting. In an effort to challenge the old saying about old dogs and new tricks, I thought we'd try something a little different. First, I'd like a brief update on each division, and then we'll see where we go from there. Patrick, would you like to start the ball rolling."

There was a general look of shock on the faces of the three gentlemen, especially on Patrick's face. I wasn't sure, but to my knowledge, Grandma had never addressed any of her executive VP's by their first name.

Patrick was stunned a bit, but eventually found where his tongue had disappeared to. Once he had calmed down, he gave a brief accounting of the health of the lumber division.

"Thank you, Patrick. I know that was a bit of a shock and it took a bit of growing. John, what's the status of the textile division?"

John wasn't as shocked as Patrick had been, but it still took him a few moments to find his voice. After that, he presented a rundown of the textile division, which hadn't seen much improvement. He went on to describe the efforts that were underway to bring the division out of its five year slump. To my mind, it seemed that his efforts were on the feeble and half-hearted side.

"Thank you John. Eric."

Eric's report was a bit more positive. The herds and ranches were doing very well and they were looking at acquiring additional land, with plans to set up additional ranches.

"Eric, this is news to me. Why haven't I heard about these plans before?" Grandma inquired.

"Right now, the plans are still in the research phase. I was planning to discuss it with you the next time you came to Abilene. That new account we landed, McDonalds, they have projected to double, or triple, their beef requirements over the next five years. Considering the growth of our other customers, we've projected that we'll have to double the size of all our herds and processing plants, within the next three years. The ranches we have, won't support that kind of growth."

"Well, that is interesting news," Grandma said. "I look forward to a full report in July. Thank you, Eric. Darla Anne."

"Well, as I'm sure you're all aware, we lost our headquarters building, in Brandon Vermont, due to a fire." Everyone nodded, as they acknowledged their knowledge of the events. "The official report hasn't been released yet, but we are fairly certain that the fire was not an accident, or an act of god."

"What are you basing that on?" Patrick asked.

"Two things; first, the fire started in a storage area where there weren't any chemicals stored that could have caused or added to the fire, it was where we stored excess office furniture. Also, the buildings electrical had been completely overhauled two years ago, to get things ready for a computer system, so that rules out electrical malfunction. The second reason we suspect foul play is that, representatives of Alliance Paper, have been telling people, that if Piermont doesn't get out of the Northwest, they'll finish the job. The good news is, we've moved into the almost new office building, that we acquired as part of the Mo Paper buyout. Our replacement computer arrived last Thursday and it should be on line this Friday or next Monday.

"A computer?" Eric asked.

"Of course, a computer," I defended with a giggle. "With each new acquisition, our accounting department was growing exponentially. By automating accounting and installing a computer, we streamlined the overall process. In the process, we've reduced not only the size of the department, but most of the errors that were caused by the human factor. Now, instead of having a second accountant double checking the work of the first accountant, the computer provides the double check."

"In fact, I've been so impressed with Piermont's computerized accounting, that I've decided it's time to install a computer at each division headquarters," Grandma added.

"That's something I wasn't aware of," Patrick exclaimed.

"I may be old, but I can still learn a few new tricks," Grandma said, with a smile. "Darla, I suppose now is a good time to tell everyone what we're doing about Alliance."

"I guess you're right, Grandma. Last Friday, during our executive staff meeting, Piermont Paper Products declared a state of economic war with Alliance Paper." I went on and explained in detail what I meant, what our plans were, and how the lumber division would be involved. I also gave Patrick the deeds and titles for the sawmills and timberlands.

"I just spent a 100 million dollars?" Patrick queried. "I didn't know spending money could be so much fun, or move so fast."

We all chuckled at his humor.

Grandma had arranged for lunch to be brought in at noon and she called an end to the meeting at 1:00 pm, knowing I needed to get over to the paper plant. I was going to leave directly from the conference room, but Grandma herded me back into her office.

"But, Grandma. I need to get out to the plant," I insisted.

"Yes, dear, I know you need to be on your way. This will only take a moment. There's something in my office that I think you should take along this week. Kind of a good luck charm."

"After all the companies I've purchased, I need a good luck charm this week?"

"Well, perhaps a good luck charm isn't quite right. Let’s call it . . . a trainee," Grandma said, as she her pushed open her office door.

I went in first, looking back towards Grandma, instead of into the office, as I questioned, "A trainee?"

Not a half second later, I bumped into something, or rather someone.

"Hey, watch it sis," Susan exclaimed, as the two of us caught ourselves just before falling over.

"Gez Suz, what are you doing hiding in here?" I asked, while grabbing her shoulders to stop us both from falling over.

"Hiding? I was standing in the middle of the room," Susan professed, as we backed away from each other. "You're the one that came charging into the room without looking where you were going."

We both stood still for a moment, looking at each other. Then we started to laugh, and hugged.

"So, what are you doing here Suz?"

"It was Grandma's idea. She called me Friday afternoon and asked me to be here today at one. She said you were sad and needed some hugging."

"Well, I did on Friday. Oh what the heck, I still do," I replied. I looked over at Grandma, who was standing just inside the closed door, smiling. I reached over and pulled her into a three-way hug.

After we stepped apart, Susan asked, "So, why am I here?"

"I thought Darla Anne could use some company this week," Grandma explained. "Your job is to observe and learn how your sister does what she does."

"Grandma, is that what you meant about a trainee?" I asked.

"Yes, my dears. If Susan can learn how you distinguish between a good deal and a bad one, perhaps she can help me with future acquisitions."

"But, I don't know anything about buying stuff," Susan complained.

"I wouldn't say that sis, I've been with you in clothing stores. I've watched, while you were hunting for the right outfit, at the right price. Don't tell me you don't know how to shop."

"But, that's totally different," Susan professed.

"That's where you're wrong sis. Spending twenty dollars on a dress, or twenty million on a company, is pretty much the same process, there are just a few more zeros in the process."

"If you say so, personally I still think you're a little nuts."

"Nuts or not, Darla Anne has a record of success, that every business man in American is envious of. I think you, Judy, and Mary could all learn a few tricks from Darla," Grandma added, finishing our discussion.

So it was decided, Susan would be my companion for the week, I would be her teacher, and I was having one of those deja vu moments.

I had talked with Bob Warren at breakfast, about spending the morning at the corporate headquarters. We also concluded that it wasn't necessary to take everyone out to the plant, that afternoon. While I was spending the morning with Grandma, Bob had canceled the large bus and arranged for a limo, which would take the five VP's, Nancy, and me to the plant. They were to stop at the corporate offices to pick me up, before heading out to the plant. Of course, at the time we didn't know that Susan would be joining us, but one more wouldn't be a problem.

When Susan and I arrived in the lobby we found Bob was conducting a brief tour, as most of our people had never been to the corporate offices before. Susan and I, having spent many days in the building, decided to wait in the lobby until they were ready to go and enjoy a little, sister catch up time. After we were settled into the limo I introduced Susan to those that didn't know her. The ride out to the plant took about forty minutes.

Jerry was waiting for us in the lobby and after I introduced him to Susan, he escorted everyone up to my office, which I didn't know I had. I was having another of those deja vu moments, the President's office, in the Northwest Regional Offices, was almost a duplicate of the office I had in Brandon. After a brief look around it was time to get down to business and I invited everyone to take a seat around the conference table.

"Let's get down to business," I started. "We all know how much work we have ahead of us, this week. The first order of business is to get Bill's and John's checklists typed up and duplicated."

"I'll take care of that," Nancy volunteered.

"I'll arrange for a typewriter to be brought up to your desk," Jerry added, as he stood up.

"My desk?" Nancy questioned.

"I'm assuming you'd be using the desk in the outer office. The one for the President's private secretary," Jerry replied, with a smile, as he crossed to my desk.

Nancy smiled innocently and replied, "Oh, yes. That will be fine."

We waited a few moments, while Jerry made a quick phone call and returned.

"It should be ready for you in about ten minutes," Jerry said, as he sat back down.

"Thank you, Jerry," I added. "The next order of business is to get some large maps, so we can plot out where each paper plant is located, where the nearest airstrips are, and where hotels or motels are located."

"I have those in my office," Jerry informed us. "Where do you want them?"

"We'll take them with us to the meeting with the plant owners. That way there won't be any question about where each plant is located. Then, Nancy will be able to use those maps to coordinate the various activities throughout the week. I guess the next thing we need to know is when and where is the meeting with the plant owners."

"I've scheduled that for 5:00 in one of the conference rooms at the Hilton, next to the Portland airport. Most of those attending will be flying in and I thought that would be convenient for everyone," Jerry informed us. "I've reserved the room in my name, rather than the company name. I thought that under the circumstances, we wanted as little publicly as possible."

"Good thinking, Jerry," I commended. "For accomplishing what we're trying to do, the fewer that know I'm in the area, the better. The next item of business is, transportation for everyone. Nancy will be working out of her office, or my office. She will need a company car from the pool. The evaluation teams will need transportation to the airport, early tomorrow morning, I believe the chartered bus is still scheduled for that trip?"

"Yes, I confirmed the reservation for 6:00 am tomorrow, when I changed today's reservation from the bus to the limo," Bob confirmed.

"Terrific. We want the teams airborne by 7:00 am, with team one at its first inspection site by 8:00 am. Bob, I'm assuming you and your team will be using Piermont's G1, with Mike shutting the other three teams in the rental?"

"That's correct, Mike thought I should have the honor of flying Flower Power one."

"Flower Power one?" Jerry and Susan questioned.

"Oh, you two haven't seen what Victor did to DD's G1," Bob said. Everyone else chuckled, as Bob continued, "She almost went into shock when she saw it."

"Well, what did he do?" Susan asked.

John, who was sitting next to Susan, quietly explained. "You know the Flower Power note book cover that DD inspired?" Susan acknowledged with a nod. "Well, Victor took that design and blew it up. It covers the G1 from wingtip to wingtip and nose to tail."

Jerry smiled as he shook his head. Susan thought it was cool and couldn't wait to see it. Everyone else went through another round of chuckling at the expense of my poor defenseless aircraft.

"I haven't decided what I'm doing with Victor about it," I said. "Speaking of airplanes, someone at Ameri-Moore was supposed to rent one for me, so I can easily jump from place to place. Do you have the specifics on that, Jerry?"

"It was delivered yesterday and was tied down in front of the Ameri-Moore hangar."

"'I didn't see a 206 when we tied down the G1's, did you Bob?"

"Oh, it isn't a 206," Jerry added. "They didn't have a 206, or a G1. They rented a Beechcraft, King Air, B90."

"A Beechcraft, King Air? We did see one of those, when we were fueling the G1's. It's a nice looking plane, but I've never flown one before."

"The rental company said, that if you can fly a G1, which they said handles like a truck, the King Air will be easy to fly and it should feel more like a fine spots car."

"Really? This could be interesting. I'd still like to have an experienced pilot go up with me for a check ride."

"I'll take care of that, DD. When do you want to have someone meet you at the plane?" Jerry asked.

"I guess the only time I'll have is right after our meeting with the independent owners, say 6:30 pm."

"I'll set it up," Jerry concluded.

"You'll set it up?" I asked.

"Yes, I'll set it up. Your secretary at Ameri-Moore gave me the details this morning. I've been handling most of the details of your visit myself. We didn't want the word of your visit to be leaked outside the company," Jerry elaborated.

"I understand, but I'm sure that news of my being here has spread throughout the plant."

"I told people here that you were coming on an inspection tour, nothing more."

"Well, in that case, as soon as were done here, I guess we'll have to go on a tour of the plant."

"Yes ma'am," Jerry agreed, with a smile.

"Tell me Jerry, does this office have a direct phone line, one that doesn't go through the switchboard?"

"Yes, it does."

"What about the phone in Nancy's office?" I asked.

"I'm afraid that's a standard interoffice phone," came Jerry's reply.

I was shaking my head as I continued, "Nancy, I know it's going to be a tremendous hardship on you, but I'm afraid you'll have to work out of my office, the rest of the week."

Nancy gave a fairly melodramatic sigh, accompanied by touching the back of her right hand to her forehead, "I'll do all I can to make best of a bad situation, Miss Drake."

"I know you will, Nancy."

Everyone was chuckling, as Nancy and I lightened the mood. We discussed several other subjects before adjourning the meeting, and we went different directions.

Bob, John, and Susan, joined Jerry and I for a world-wind tour of the plant. Nancy set to work on the checklists. Bill and Ron went to accounting to see what mischief they could get into. Gerard got the information from Jerry and made the call to the aircraft rental agency, as well as checking on things at home.

It was pushing 4:00 pm when we got into the cars and headed for the Hilton, with so many people coming to see me, I didn't want to be late. When we arrived at the Hilton, I went into their restaurant and asked for the manager. He was very pleasant and once I explained what I wanted, he was very happy to help me out. I provided him with billing information and he gave me a small stack of gift cards.

When we were shown to the conference room, it was much larger than I'd anticipated, but it did have the option of being divided into two rooms. I asked Jerry what it would take to have the dividers put into place, giving us access to both rooms. Jerry disappeared and a few minutes later he and four men from the hotel, appeared. They opened a large panel and started moving the dividers into place. While all that was going on, Nancy and I got to work, writing a brief note on each gift card. Then I signed each gift card.

By the time Jerry and the hotel’s crew were finish, with the wall, the first of our guests started to arrive. At 5:00 pm, I stood in front of the small gathering, there were just over thirty people in attendance; mostly men, but there were several smartly dressed women.

"Ladies and gentlemen, good evening and welcome," I opened. "I'm Darla Anne Drake and this is Paper Manufacturing 457, How to compete with an overly dominating competitor. If that isn't the class you signed up for, you're in the wrong place."

After the laughing died down I continued, "That's how quite a few of my professors start each class at the beginning of each semester, it assures that someone isn't in the wrong class by mistake and I wanted to make sure that everyone was here for the same reason. Obviously, my associates and I are here representing Piermont Paper. I'd like to go around the room and have each of you introduce yourself and identify what company you represent."

They started hesitantly, but eventually almost everyone identified themselves and what company they worked for. I noticed there were two in the back that weren't saying anything and appeared to be taking notes.

Bob noticed the same thing, leaning over he quietly asked, "What about the two in the back?"

"Take our guys back there and see what's going on," I whispered back.

Bob took Jerry with him down one side of the room while Bill and John went down the other side.

While the guys went to investigate I continued. "Second, I want to thank each of you for coming, I realize I extended the invitation to be here on very short notice. I hope that none of you were terribly inconvenienced. As a token of my appreciation I have something for each of you."

Standing, I started handing out the gift cards. "These are good for dinner, here at the Hilton's Restaurant, for you and a guest. You’re free to use them tonight, or the next time you're in Portland."

As I was explaining, I saw Bob taking a note book from each of our unidentified guests. They then stood and were escorted out the rear door.

"Is everything under control, Bob," I asked.

"It is now, but apparently our secret meeting isn't a secret anymore," Bob replied.

"I take it that those two gentlemen were -"

"From Alliance Paper," Bob confirmed.

"Is anyone else spying for Alliance?" I asked bluntly, as I finished handing out the last few gift cards. There were no admissions or faces that displayed any sign of shock or terror, so I could only assume there were none.

"I wonder how they found out about this little get together," I asked rhetorically. "Oh well, I guess since the cats out of the bag, we might as well get on with our discussion. We all know that Mr. Robert De Forrest has been using some legal but decidedly underhanded tactics, with the obvious intention of driving everyone else, in the Northwest, out of business. I'm sure that everyone here knows that last January I purchased four plants. At that time Bobby called me and wanted to know my intention concerning any other purchases. I told him that I didn't have any plans for additional acquisitions at that time. We also discussed the futility of deliberately targeting a competitors customers with the intent driving the competitor out of business. I realize that is part of the corporate rules of the jungle, just not one that I subscribe to as a normal way of conducting day to day business.

"Between January and March, my office had received more than a dozen letters from individuals like yourselves, independent plant owners, offering their companies for sale. It was in March that we realized Bobby was using the same underhanded strategies against Piermont as he was using against the four companies I'd purchased in January. That was when I decided that the only way to get Bobby to resume a normal pricing structure was to do the same thing. I also decided, that if I could operate four plants at cost, I could operate more plants the same way. That's when I purchased the eleven additional plants.

"Of course, you all know about the fire at our headquarters in Brandon. We know the fire was set deliberately; we just don't have undeniable proof as to who set the fire, or whom they were working for. Now, I know that many of you have heard the talk on the streets, Alliance representatives are saying that Piermont is dead or dying. I'm here to tell you that Piermont is very much alive. We are strong and very determined to remain a competitive member of the paper industry. We've moved our headquarter operations to Jefferson City, Missouri, our replacement computer will be on line by this time next week, and other than re-staffing our headquarters, we are back to business as usual. The only real problem remaining is, how to deal with Alliance. That is why we’re having this meeting.

"Obviously, any letters offering companies for sale, went up in smoke along with my desk, in Brandon. So, if any of you sent me a letter, requesting that I contact you, would you please raise a hand."

A total of nine hands slowly went up. "Very good, now if you nine, along with anyone that came with you, would accompany Mr. Warren, Mr. Marshall, and Miss Pollock into the next room. They will collect your names, mark the location of your plant on a map, and schedule a visit by one of our evaluation teams, later this week. After that, you're finished here for tonight. Again, thank you for coming here and I look forward to visiting with each of you very soon. Would the rest of you remain here, please? I'd like to discuss with you the ramifications of a price war between Piermont and Alliance.

Twelve of the thirty-five followed Bob, Bill, and Nancy out. That left twenty-one people scattered around the room. As the group was leaving, I stood up to move closer to those that remained, inviting Susan and the rest of my team to follow. I then invited everyone to move in a little closer, I didn't want to have to talk loud.

Once everyone was seated I asked, "How many of you have been contacted by representatives from Alliance in the last two weeks?"

About half of the remaining gentlemen raised their hands.

"They didn't waste any time, did they?" I asked rhetorically. "Have they changed their offer, or is it still two million with no regard for your plant or how many acres of timber lands are included?"

"It's still the same," one owner grumbled.

"And the way they make the offer, they make it sound like they're doing us a favor," another anonymous added.

"So, are any of you considering accepting Alliance's offer?" I asked pointedly.

Everyone shook their heads and one added, "And we don't want to sell to you either."

"Great. Then this is just the group I want to talk with. How many of you would like to help me stick it to Alliance and keep your plants at the same time?"

They looked at me, then at each other, and back at me, with some of the most perplexing facial expressions I've ever seen. Even my people were looking at me funny. "What did you have in mind," someone eventually asked.

"Before I get into that, let me explain what's going to happen in the next couple of weeks. First, I'm going to buy a few more plants this week. Second, once we have the exact numbers, we'll establish ‘one price for newsprint’ across the nation, from Piermont. We'll run at just over cost for as long as it takes for Alliance's shareholders to complain about losing money. Unfortunately, there is a negative side effect that goes along with this plan."

"Yeah, US," someone complained.

"That's right, with you two going head to head there will be nothing left for us," another added.

"At least you're telling us you're going to drive us out of business," a third added venomously.

"Which is Alliance's goal, not mine," I reiterated.

"You just said that you're going to war with Alliance and that because of the price war, we'll be driven out of business," another owner stated.

"There are other alternatives, you could shut down and wait it out, or -"

"Or sell out to you? No thanks," someone interrupted me.

"Or join Piermont in a limited partnership," I finished.

"A what?" several echoed.

"A limited partnership," I repeated. "You see, if I were to ask all of you to sell your paper at the same price as Piermont, that would be price fixing, which is illegal. A price war however is legal. So what I'm proposing is this -

"I will pay each of you an amount of money and we will sign a contract the gives Piermont a controlling interest in your company. While your company is part of Piermont, you will be able to purchase your chemicals and supplies at Piermont's cost, and you will sell your paper at Piermont's price. Also, at a specified date in the future, you will buy back, from Piermont, full control of your company. Now then, I know you must have lots of questions and I'll be happy to answer them, but let's have a little organization and we'll get everyone’s questions answered. Let's start with this gentleman, here on my left, and work our way around the room."

"You said you'd pay each of us an amount of money for controlling interest, what does that mean, exactly?"

"Right, I figured that would be one of the first three questions. Very well, my plan is to give each of you four million dollars. That should be enough to appease any regulatory government agency."

"Who cares about the government, my company is worth more than eight million," one owner adamantly complained. His complaint was quickly followed by all but one of the others, all expressing the same opinions about the value of their respective companies.

Turning to the one gentleman that wasn't complaining, I asked, "I see you didn’t join in with the others, what do you estimate your companies value at?"

"Conservative estimates put it at between seven and eight million. I was actually wondering what you meant by 'buy back full control' and what that will cost us?"

"An excellent question. I think I'll answer your question first and in doing so, possibly alleviate some of the other gentlemen’s concerns. Buying back full control means exactly that. When the time is right, that would be at least one year after the price war ends, we will sign the appropriate paperwork and you will have sole control of your company, once again. The cost to buy back control will be essentially zero. You see, my plan is that the four million I pay for controlling interest will be placed into an account at your bank, and remain there untouched. The buyback price will be that four million plus whatever interest has accrued. So the cost to you, for Piermont helping to save your company, is essentially zero. Does that answer your question?"

"Yes indeed. Explained in detail it is very clear, but why?" he asked.

"Why what?"

"Why would you lay out four million to each of us while getting nothing back except standard bank interest?"

"Piermont is not South Core and Piermont is not Alliance. We do not employ underhanded methods to squash the competition. I have been known to take advantage of the situation when someone else is doing the squashing, but in almost every case, the victim was smiling when we parted company. This situation is very different. A prolonged price war between Alliance and Piermont could possibly drive several of you out of business, which as I said, is Alliance's goal, not mine. My goal is to sell newsprint at rock bottom prices and hold on, until Alliance's stock holders demand that their newsprint operation shows a profit. When that happens, Robert De Forrest will have no choice, he'll have to raise his prices and we will raise our prices to match."

"Do you really think you can out last Alliance in this price war?" another gentleman asked.

"By averaging the cost of all our plants that produce newsprint and selling at that price, to all newsprint customers, instead of as a discount to attract new customers, we'll probably have customers calling us. We haven't put together the final numbers yet, but I do know this. When Alliance acquires a plant they upgrade everything to the most modern equipment. That means they carry a large debt on each plant. Most of our equipment is older and not as labor efficient, but having a third or more of our plants debt free should make up the difference and actually allow us to run at a lower cost than Alliance is capable of, at least in the long term. Not to mention that I don't answer to a bunch of greedy stock holders; I only have to answer to my grandmother, and she's behind me."

"Grandmother?" someone asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Mable Moore is my grandmother," I replied.

"So, you're just a figure head and someone at Ameri-Moore is really calling the shots?" a skeptic on the second row asked.

"Hey, you don't even want to go there," John answered quickly. "DD has been making all the decisions since she bought Piermont four years ago and she's never asked anyone for permission. From day one, she has negotiated every deal that was made as Piermont grew. When things went wrong it was her quick thinking and resourcefulness that has made Piermont the billion dollar company that it is today. The company that has just offered to save you and your companies from being swallowed up by Alliance."

I looked at John and quietly asked, "When did we cross the billion mark?"

"Well, I may have been exaggerating just a little," John admitted.

"But not by much," Susan added.

"Well, the value of Piermont isn't the question here," I said, getting the discussion back to the matter at hand. "There is an offer before this group that will enable your various companies to survive the coming price war. The question is, do you want to discuss the details of the offer or reject the offer and take your chances?"

I sat back and watched as the various company owners looked at each other. I would normally get up to leave after a minute, but this time I waited patiently. Several of them were whispering back and forth. After about five minutes the whispering stopped and an older gentleman in the middle of the group spoke.

"It looks like I've been elected to be the spokesman. I think we'd like to hear what you have to offer."

We spent the rest of the hour discussing all of the details. Once we got past the money issues and everyone realized that they would remain in operational control of their plants, the rest of the discussion went rather quickly. Bob, Bill, and Nancy had come back while we were discussing the money issues.

A little after six pm I was forced to call an end to the discussion, so I could get to my next appointment. "Thank you all, if you will please see Mr. Warren and Miss Pollock before you leave, they will schedule a visit by one of our evaluation teams. I apologize for leaving so abruptly, but I have an appointment for a check flight in the plane that has been rented for my use this week,"

"You fly?" someone asked.

Susan giggled, "You would be surprised at what this girl likes to fly around the country."

Shaking my head, I continued, "I look forward to visiting with each of you later in the week. If any of you know of someone who wasn't here this evening, you might want to contact them and recommend that they contact Miss Pollock. I will also ask that none of you discuss this meeting with anyone outside this room. Miss Pollock will be working out of our Portland offices, Mr. DeLuca can provide you with the number. Come on Suz, we've got a plane to catch."

Susan and I hailed a cab to take us to the FBO office, on the ‘private plane’ side, of the Portland Airport. They were a little hesitant to give me the keys that they were holding for the President of Piermont Paper Products.

"Does that happen very often?" Susan asked, as we were walking toward the Ameri-Moore hangar.

"It doesn't happen very often, but it does happen occasionally. After all, how many 17 year old company presidents are running around?"

"You've got a point there. Maybe you should carry something that identifies you as the president of Piermont Paper."

"I always have my driver’s license and my pilot’s license. We also have our passports, although, I seldom carry mine with me. Speaking of my pilot’s license, have you considered getting yours?"

"I've been seriously thinking about it, ever since you got yours. That way I wouldn't be dependent on someone else to get me from one inspection site to another. I don't think I need a plane as big as - - Oh my stars, is that it?" Susan stopped and was staring ahead.

I turned in the direction that Susan was staring and realized what had caught her eye.

"Yes. That's my Gulfstream."

"He did a great job, it looks just like one of your notebooks," Susan said, as we started walking again.

"Blame that on our fleet manager, Victor Roskelley. He's in charge of painting, registration, insurance, and so forth, for all of Piermont's vehicles."

"I like it. It's kind of cool."

"You think it’s cool?"

"Yeah, I do. I definitely makes your plane as unique as you are."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, you're a one of a kind, being a corporate president at 17, I'm sure that paint job makes your plane a one of a kind."

"I hadn't thought of it that way. Maybe we'll keep the paint job."

"I would, if it was me. So where is the plane you're flying around in, this week?"

"It's just on the other side of flower power one." I replied as we walked under the tail of the G1.

"Oh, that's cute."

"It is, isn't it? I've never paid attention to what different manufactures are making, because I was looking for a corporate size plane. Although, I kind of like the looks of this Beechcraft King Air," I replied, as we circled the plane.

We finished our exterior tour at the door, on the port side. Unlocking and pulling the release lever, I lowered the door, with the attached stairs and allowed Susan to enter first.

"WOW, this is really nice," Susan exclaimed, as I entered the aircraft.

"You're right Suz. This is almost as nice as Grandma's jet," I added.

"I tell you what sis, you get me one of these, and I’ll get my license before we go back to school."

"What do you mean, if I get you one of these?" I asked.

"Well, I'm traveling all over the country doing the inspections, and you're the VP of Examinations and Surveys. So as my boss, don't you think I deserve a bonus?"

"Is that the best you can do, at trying to butter up the boss?" I asked, with a giggle.

Just then, we heard a vehicle pull up alongside. Looking out the open doorway, we saw a large gentleman, getting out of a black Chevy Suburban.

"Hello," I greeted as I stepped down from the aircraft, with Susan right behind me.

"Good evening, ladies. I'm Cliff Davidson, I'm a flight instructor with Portland Air Service. I was asked to accompany the president of Piermont Paper Products on a check flight. Is he in the plane?"

"Here we go again," Susan said, sarcastically.

"I'm sorry, is there a problem?" Mr. Davidson asked.

"No, there's no problem," I replied. "It's just that the President of Piermont Paper isn't a he, he's a she."

"I don't understand." Mr. Davidson looked confused.

"Mr. Davidson," Susan began. "Allow me to introduce Miss Darla Anne Drake, President of Piermont Paper Products, a division of Ameri-Moore."

"You're the president and you know how to fly?" he asked, pointing at me.

I nodded, in response to his first question. To answer his second question, I produced my pilots license.

"Darla Anne Drake," he read. "Rating - land - multi engine. You're certified in multi engine, what do you usually fly?"

Susan giggled and pointed towards Flower Power One, on the others side of the King Air.

Mr. Davidson looked where Susan was pointing, cocked his head to the right, and while wearing a cockeyed grin asked, "What is it?"

"That's the Gulfstream I purchased last fall. Our fleet manager thought it needed - um, character," I explained.

"Is that what you call it, character? Well, whatever makes you happy I guess. So, if you own that, why are you renting this King Air?"

"We have fifteen plants scattered across five states, here in the Northwest. I'll be visiting each of them during the next two weeks. The G1 is needed elsewhere so, unless I want to drive everywhere, I need another plane to get around in."

"Fair enough. Shall we get started?"

Susan and I boarded the King Air followed by Mr. Davidson. Susan selected a plush seat in the main cabin while I went into the cockpit and sat in the left seat. Mr. Davidson followed me and sat in the right seat.

We went over the instrument locations because they were different than I was accustomed to. Then we went over the pre-flight checklist. Exiting the aircraft once more, Mr. Davidson and I started through the checklist with the exterior items. After once again boarding the aircraft, I closed and latched the door. Upon completion of the checklist, I started the engines and let them warm up, for a few minutes.

After taking off, Mr. Davidson gave me directions and we flew to a small airport outside of Silverton Oregon. Once in the pattern, I shot four touch and go’s. I had just lifted off, for the last time, when Mr. Davidson told me I was a competent pilot and he asked if he could take the controls. There was something about the way he said that, ‘I was a competent pilot’ that didn't feel like it was a compliment, but I let him take the controls.

Mr. Davidson brought the plane around for another touch and go, but he didn't reduce speed or lower the landing gear. He dove at the runaway like an Air Force pilot attacking a ship, at sea. With the landing gear up, he shot along the length of the runway at twenty feet doing two hundred miles per hour. At the end of the runway, he pushed the throttles to the limits and pulled back on the yoke.

As mother earth quickly disappeared from view, I looked over at Mr. Davidson, commenting, "Nice."

Susan wasn't so impressed, she called out, "Darla Anne, what on earth are you doing?"

"It's not me, Suz," I called back. "Mr. Davidson is showing me what this plane can do."

"Well, when he's finished showing off, can we go back and get my stomach?"

Laughing, I replied, "No problem, Suz."

Mr. Davidson took us out over the Pacific, as he put the plane through its paces. I had never seen a plane do some of the things he did, and made comment to that effect. Mr. Davidson informed me that the aerobatics he performed were mild compared to the performances by other pilot's at the, yearly, Reno Air Races. After setting a heading that would take us back to the Portland airport, he returned control of the aircraft to me.

We landed safely in Portland and pulled up next to the G1, almost exactly where we started from. Fortunately, we didn't have to return to Silverton to retrieve Susan's stomach. We found it in the rear of the plane hiding under a blanket, which was a good thing, because we were having dinner that evening with Grandma. Mr. Davidson graciously gave us a ride to the FBO office, where we were able to call a cab.

The ride to Mr. Fevrier's restaurant, was about twenty minutes, where we've eaten many times. We were surprised to see him filling in for the Maitre’ De Maison.

"Miss Darla, Miss Susan, it's so good to see both of you again," Mr. Fevrier greeted us. "I haven't seen you for so long, I was afraid you were no longer happy with my humble establishment."

"Oh, not at all, Monsignor Fevrier," I assured him. "I come here at least once, every time I'm in Portland. I've just been so busy elsewhere, that I haven't been in Portland for several years."

"Of course, I am only kidding, Miss Darla. Shall I prepare your usual table?"

Both Susan and I giggled, remembering when we were seated at the table reserved for special guests. "Not today, Monsignor Fevrier. Today were dinning with Mrs. Moore and her party." Susan informed him.

"Very good," he replied, as he checked his schedule of reservations. "Mrs. Moore has reservation for 8:00. They haven't arrived yet, but you are welcome to wait at the table, if you wish."

"That sounds like a splendid idea," I replied.

Mr. Fevrier escorted us to a table set for six and one at a time pulled out the chairs to seat Susan and me. Then he snapped his fingers and a waiter appeared to take our drink order.

Susan and I were discussing the requirements for getting her pilots license, when the waiter brought our pot of tea. Shortly after the waiter left, we heard Grandma's voice.

"Hello, my darlings. I'm so glad you could make it." Pausing to give us a hug, she continued with the introductions of Jonathan Roberts and Lee Sherman.

After everyone was seated and had ordered their meals, Jonathan asked, "Mabel, I didn't realize that we were in negotiations for a buyout of my company?"

Grandma and I looked at each other, questioningly. Then we looked at Jonathan, and Grandma asked, "Why Jonathan, whatever gave you that idea?"

"Well, Mabel, the word on the street is, that if you're invited to dinner and 'DD' is present, a buyout is on the horizon."

"Mr. Roberts, I'm sorry, but I don't know anything about a buyout," I started to explain.

"And besides, we haven't operated that way in years," Grandma continued. "Nowadays, I simply send Darla out to perform an on sight inspection and if she thinks it's a good deal, she'll buy the company on the spot."

I looked at Grandma, surprised that she would say something like that.

Surprising me more, Susan's added, "That's my little sister, miss spontaneous."

Seeing the smiles on both their faces, I turned and addressed Mr. Roberts. "It appears that we are both victims of their amusement. By the way, what business are you in?

"I run a modest logging operation. The best trees I sell to your grandmother, she's always paid me top dollar for the best I have. The lesser grade trees go to a paper company."

My interest was instantly piqued. "And, which paper company would that be?"

"Alliance Paper. We ship to several of their plants in Oregon."

"That's interesting. Can you tell me how much Alliance is paying for logs, or do you do the chipping as well?"

"We do the chipping and I guess how much they pay us wouldn't be considered an industrial secret." He then went on to tell us about their operation, along with the price structure they had with Alliance.

During dinner I learned a lot about Mr. Roberts’s operation. I found it interesting that they were getting twenty percent less for their chips, per ton, than Piermont will be paying Ameri-Moore, at cost. I also discovered that they weren't really happy about their dealings with Alliance and the way Alliance keeps forcing the price down.

Over dessert I asked, "Mr. Roberts, are you under contract to Alliance, to provide a specific number of tons per week, or per month? Or do they call and place an order when they want more chips?"

"No, no contract, at least not any more. Ten years ago we had a contract, but when it came time to renew, they said they'd prefer a different arrangement. Today we have, what I guess you would refer to as an understanding. We send five truck loads a week, to each of the plants we've been servicing, and send them a bill monthly. The problem is, every year they complain about needing to cut costs and subsequently reduce the amount they're willing to pay for the chips. They've whittled the price down by one to two percent each year, since the contact expired. If it weren't for Mabel paying so well for top grade oak and maple, I'd have been bankrupt years ago. Some of my friends have gone out of business and Mabel acquired their timberlands fairly cheaply.

"How would you like to make an additional ten percent per ton, for your chips?

Mr. Roberts casually asked, "Why would Ameri-Moore want to buy wood chips?"

Susan piped up, saying, "Mr. Roberts, you really need to get out more."

"Jonathan, Darla is not only my VP of Examination and Surveys, she's also the president of our paper products division, Piermont Paper," Grandma informed him.

Mr. Roberts sat up sharply and grinned. "You mean - we could make an extra ten percent, by selling everything to Ameri-Moore, and not have to deal with Alliance and their tantrums. Where do I sign up?"

"Well, you wouldn't be selling to Ameri-Moore, directly. You'd be dealing strictly with Piermont as far as the wood chips are concerned," I corrected. "We have several plants in the area and I'd very much like to secure an additional supplier, as we ramp up production. If you have a business card, I'll have my VP of Purchasing and Procurement, Tom Harris, get in touch with you."

I received several cards from Mr. Roberts, as we were leaving the restaurant. Of course, we stopped to thank Monsignor Fevrier for the wonderful food and excellent service.

"You setup that meeting, didn't you Grandma?" I asked, once we were in the cab, heading for the Ameri-Moore apartment.

"Yes." she replied, simply.

"So you already knew What Alliance is paying for their chips?"

"No, I just knew that Jonathan sold to them," she admitted. "But, with the information we just acquired, we may want to examine our sales and price structure. It appears, we may be over charging our customers."

"So, it's okay if I buy chips from someone else?"

"If you can get a better price, by all means buy from someone else. It will make your division more profitable. Sometimes, an independent can undercut a large company. As I've said before, you have a real knack for cutting through the chaff and coming up with the prize. I'm eager to see what next June will bring."

"What's happening next June?" Susan asked.

"Just a little surprise," I replied.

"Hopefully a resurrection," Grandma added.

Susan looked at me with a puzzled expression.

We dropped Grandma off, then Susan and I continued to the Embassy Suits for a good night’s sleep.

* * * To Be Continued * * *

Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]

Chapter 5

By Penny Reed Cardon

This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.

It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.

Tuesday, July 11, 1972

The day started with an early breakfast for all. We'd arranged for several tables to be pushed together, so we could all eat together and go over a few last minute details. Susan and I, being such early risers, arrived first, but not by much. Within fifteen minutes of our arriving, everyone else had been seated. While we ate, we went over the details and assignments. The only major change was, that I wanted Bill to join my team, in the King Air. I had Jerry take over as the VP in charge of team two. That would technical leave them one accountant short; so I had Jerry bring his regional accounting supervisor.

During breakfast, I slipped Mr. Roberts business card towards Bob. He looked at the card for a moment, then asked, "I remember Mr. Roberts from when I was with the wood products division, are we buying a lumber company now?"

"No," I replied. "But, I have arranged to buy chips at ten percent below Ameri-Moore's cost."

"How in the world did you arrange that?" he wanted to know.

"It was easy. I just offered them ten percent above what they are getting from Alliance," I answered with a smile.

"Wait a second - that means Alliance is getting their chips at twenty percent below Ameri-Moore's cost. How can they be getting chips at that price?"

"Let's just say that Bobby De Forest doesn't reserve his strong-arm tactics to just dealing with his competition. He is just as ruthless and unfair with his suppliers."

"If that's the case,"

"Exactly," I interrupted Bob's train of thought. "When the word starts to circulate among the independent loggers, that we're pay more than Alliance, Tom will be turning loggers away. Not to mention that Alliance will lose their supply of cheap wood chips. They'll have to go out on the open market to find new suppliers."

"Bobby is going to be very upset with us."

"Yes he is, but if he had stuck by his word and not gotten in our way, we wouldn't be going to war."

When the chartered bus arrived at the airport, everyone scrambled for their luggage and boarded their designated aircraft. Flower Power one was the first to lift off, with Bob and his team. Mike took to the skies a few minutes later, in the Rutland Transair G1, with the three remaining teams.

Even though the commercial planes were on the other side of the airport, and used the larger of the two runways, air traffic had picked up rapidly. I waited thirty minutes on the taxi way, before receiving clearance to proceed onto the active runway and take off. As we were lifting off in the King Air, heading for our first destination, Susan thanked me for not trying any of Mr. Davidson's aerobatics. I smiled to myself and told her it was still early in the week, there would be lots of opportunities to test out the airplane's capabilities.

When we arrived at our first plant, Bill and John jumped in to help with the inspection. I was surprised at the efficiency of team one. Between them and the help from Bill and John, they were finished in a record time of ninety minutes. After I had their reports, I spent fifteen minutes with the owner. With the letter of intent signed we were on our way, our giant game of leapfrog was off to a great start.

We managed to get to all eight plants on Tuesday. We flew on to our next destination, before stopping for the night.

Wednesday, July 12, 1972

We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, to give team one as much time as possible, and them we set off to visit our first plant of the day. After arriving and introductions were out of the way, Bill and John went to help with the inspections and I had a chance to chat with Bob about the previous day, while Susan sat quietly in the background, listening and learning.

"So tell me boss, how is the balance, are we buying more than we're partnering with?"

"It’s hard to say right now, this is just the beginning of day two. If yesterday is any indication, five purchases and three partnerships, we are going to be doing a lot of growing in the Northwest. I hope Jerry is up to the challenge."

"I think he'll do okay. We may want to free him up from his plant manager duties, because he'll have so many plants to oversee."

"You may be right. As it stands, right’s now the region has twenty plants of our own, plus three partner plants and those numbers are going to grow before the week is over. I'm considering having you be responsible for the partner plants."

"Me? Don't you think Jerry can handle the job?"

"I was thinking more along the line of the unique challenges they will represent. Also, the fact that in about a year’s time, they will be going away. Besides, I think Jerry will have his hands full, just keeping track of our twenty to twenty-five plants."

"All good points, I guess we'll have to think about it. When do you plan to announce the organizational change?"

"I'll let Jerry know the next time I see him. I'll announce it to everyone else at our weekly meeting, a week from this Friday. Something else for you to think about, who are we going to put in charge of the Northeast region?"

"I've been thinking about that, I think it might be time to move Mike Turbill up a notch or two."

"The question is, does Mike want to learn to fly?"

"What does flying have to do with it?"

"At this point in time, with so many plants in each region, with everything spread out so far, and with headquarters in Jefferson City, having a pilot’s license is going to be a requirement of all our VP's."

"Darla even thinks I should learn to fly," Susan interjected.

"Considering the number of locations you inspect, that makes a lot of sense," Bob reply. "What about Matt and John?" Bob asked me.

"We'll have to think about Matt's situation. As for John, he's on board and I've given him some books to study. He should be ready to take the written test in a couple of weeks. I've also told John he would have his own plane. As VP of Production Engineering he will be traveling more than anyone else."

"You're probably right about him needing his own plane. Any idea what sort of plane he'll want?"

"No idea yet. I only told him about his needing to fly and about picking a plane on our way out here, last Sunday. I did limit his choices by specifying it must be propeller driven and have room for six to twelve passengers plus tools and parts. We'll see what he comes up with. I think I'm going to get me a Beechcraft King Air as my personal plane. They are almost as nice as the Ameri-Moore jet."

"I thought you were going to get one for me to run around in," Susan said.

"Sounds like I need to check out that little puddle jumper the next time were on the ground together," Bob commented.

"Puddle jumper? You make it sound like an open cockpit, biplane," I replied, with a smile.

"Now, one of those would be fun to fly, just not across the country," Bob exclaimed.

Before I had a chance to reply, John and Bill showed up with their reports. After hearing the reports, Bob went to collect his team, while Susan, John, Bill, and I went to talk with the owner. Negotiations went as expected, the plant was in very good condition and the equipment had been upgraded six years earlier. There was a loan balance of one point five million, so Alliance would only pay five hundred thousand for the plant. The owner was ready to retire and was just hanging on, hoping for something better for himself and his people. They figured that anything would be better than a sale to Alliance. Because the equipment was so new, I offered four million, minus the existing loan and he immediately accepted. Twenty Minutes after signing the paper work, we were lifting off, bound for our next inspection and negotiation.

Once we'd leveled off, Susan came up behind me to talk. "Darla, I'm trying to figure something out. The plants you bought yesterday, you didn’t offer anything over three million. The plant we just left, you're giving him four million. What's was the difference?"

"There were three things that made the difference, Suz. First, the overall condition of the plant was better. Even though he knew the end was near, he was proud of his plant and the products they produced. Consequently, he always kept the plant in top condition. Second, the equipment was newer than the plants we saw yesterday. Again, that goes back to being proud of his plant. Third, he was concerned for the welfare of his people, that's why he hadn't even considered Alliance's offer, they don't care about the people of a company they buy. Alliance moves their own people in and they layoff most of the existing work force."

"So you're saying you paid him the extra million, as a reward for being better than average?"

"I guess that's one way of looking at it."

"It's like the bonuses DD gives out at Piermont," John added. "She rewards hard work and loyalty."

"I guess that makes a little more sense, but why would you be rewarding him? He didn't work for you."

"That's true, but he has been working hard all his life, only to have everything stripped away by Alliance. Because of his level of commitment towards his plant and people, I can be a little more generous and give him back a little more of what he's lost. If it weren’t for the pressure from Alliance, and if that plant were being sold on the open market, it would be worth about seventeen million, so at four million, I got it for a song. Obviously, I don't do that every time, only when I think the situation warrants it."

Susan appeared to understand and returned to her seat.

We had just gotten to our cruising altitude, after our third plant for the day, when Bob called on the radio. We exchanged the formalities, call signs and FAA requirements, and then got down to business.

"What's your position seven two niner? Over."

"We just left Coquille Oregon, heading for Elkton Oregon, at an altitude of twenty-four thousand feet. Over."

"Understood seven two niner. Need to see you urgently at my location. Repeat. Need to see you urgently at my location. Please divert to Roseburg, Oregon. Upon arrival in Roseburg airspace, take a heading of forty five degrees magnetic, for about thirty minutes. You will find a grass airstrip running Southeast to Northwest. You will find November Two One Six Piermont Paper, at the Southeast end of the grass airstrip. Understood? Over."

"Understood, Two One Six. Divert to Roseburg, take a heading of zero, four, five, degrees magnetic for thirty minutes. Is one of our people injured? Over."

"Negative, seven two niner. No injuries, but urgent you arrive ASAP. Over."

"Ten-four, Two One Six. Now in-route to Roseburg. Will see you soon. Lima seven two ninner Alpha Romeo, over and out."

"What do you suppose that is all about?" John asked.

"I haven't a clue. But I'm glad we topped off the tanks before we lifted off," I replied, as I pushed the throttles past eighty percent.

Forty minutes later, we were in a search pattern, looking for an unmarked grass airstrip. Ten minutes more and we were circling a grass strip, and several very large structures, looking for Flower Power one.

"There she is!" Bill called out.

"Terrific, we're in the right place. Anyone see a windsock?" I replied.

A gentle wind was blowing from the West, so I circled again and set up to land, Southeast to Northwest. As we were taxing back to where the G1 was quietly waiting, I saw Bob and another gentleman crossing the expanse between the G1 and the structures, beyond.

After we'd stopped, Bill opened the door as I was completing my shutdown checklist. Bob was there and boarded, once Bill and Susan had gotten off.

"Well, this is nice," Bob said, as he made his way to the cockpit. "How does she handle?"

"She handles very nicely, smooth takeoffs, easy to land, without making anyone suffer through a bouncer, and plenty of power when it's needed. But, you didn't invite me here to talk about airplanes, why the urgent call?"

"The urgent call is because of the gentleman that owns this plant. He wasn't at our meeting, Monday. He says several of his friends called him, suggesting he should talk with you. Then after you set up partnerships with three owners yesterday, two of them called and sang him your praises, in a manner of speaking. The thing that has me concerned is, his mysterious actions."

"What do you mean, mysterious actions?"

"Well, he won't let our inspection team into the plant, they're just waiting in a conference room. He won't talk to me about his business, insisting that he'll only discuss it with you. In fact, he won't even give me his last name, or the name of the company. I was going to write it off as a hoax, but he insists that everything will become clear after he talks with you."

"Where does he want to meet with me?"

"His office. All it says on the door is President, no indication of who he is."

"Well, after everything you've told me, I have no intention of meeting with this gentleman alone. Bob, I want you and John to stick with me like Siamese triplets. We'll leave Bill and Susan in the conference room, with the rest of our people, and then we'll have a chat with Mr. Mysterious. By the way, who is it that escorted you out to meet us?"

"That's Ralph Watson, he's the plant manager here."

"Well, let’s go meet Mr. Mysterious."

We left the plane and I was introduced to Mr. Watson. ‘No, no jokes about Dr. Watson.’ Arriving at the plant, we stopped at the conference room and talked with our team for a few minutes.

We heard an enthusiastic "Come in." in response to Mr. Watson knocking on the President's office door.

We were greeted cheerfully, as a gentleman of about sixty something came around the desk. "Good afternoon and welcome. You must be Miss Drake, may I call you DD?" he asked as shook my hand.
"Of course. And you are?"

"Just call me Greg," he replied. "And who is this young man?" he asked, extending his hand to John.

"John Fahey, my VP of Production Engineering," I introduced.

"I can see that you don't believe in traveling lite, a VP and an Executive VP," Greg commented sarcastically.

Agreeing and carrying it a little further, I added "Not to mention our VP of Finance, Bill Marshal, and my sister, Susan. We left them in the conference room."

"My, my. It sounds like you've got most of your executives up here, in the Northwest. Who's minding the store?"

"Well, Greg, when you've got fifty-seven plants, there's always someone willing to play 'Boss for a Day'. So now that were all here, what can we do for you?"

"Well, DD, I'll tell you. I'm on the downhill slide of being just past seventy. I've been working in one paper plant or another since I was eighteen. I've been running the show since I was twenty-five. I'm getting tired of chasing the other rats around the track. I'm getting to be more and more forgetful, and I'd like it very much if you would buy my company."

"That's a long time to be wrapped up in paper," I sarcastically replied. "But why do you want me to buy your company?"

"I've been looking to retire for some time, but there just aren't too many around that can absorb an eighty million dollar company, especially here in the Northwest. I've been keeping track of your escapades since you started helping your Grandmother, and I've been pleased with what I've seen. I have to say that, I’ve been extremely impressed by your actions the last couple of days. You've repeatedly demonstrated a generous nature when dealing with people who've seen their world crumble down around them due to an unscrupulous competitor. But the deciding factor is, the way you've stepped in to help the independent owners keep their companies, while you and Alliance slug it out."

"May I ask where you got your information?" I asked suspiciously.

"From my son-in-law. He called me yesterday, after you two worked out a partnership arrangement. He told me you believe in a moral code that is much higher than the one adhered to by Alliance. He was very impressed with you and suggested that you might be the person to take over my company, so I can retire."

"Wouldn't your daughter and son-in-law be looking to inherit this company?" Bob asked.

"We've talked about it, they're determined to make it on their own. Of course, I did give them one plant as a wedding present, ten years ago," Greg said, with a chuckle. "They were doing really well and would have opened their second plant by now, if it weren't for Alliance trying to run everyone else out of business."

"Do you have any other children?" I asked.

"Yes, three boys. But with their attitudes, I wouldn't leave the business to them. They believe that instant gratification and underhanded tactics are the way to operate a business. The three of them . . ." He paused, took a deep breath, slowly exhaled, then continued. "They're working for Alliance." Greg bemoaned the loss of his sons, as if they were dead.

"My father taught us girls that hard work and honesty would, in the long run, be the best characteristics to develop."

"He is absolutely right."

"Well, Greg, how much are you asking for your company," I asked, getting back to the business at hand.

"If it was anyone else asking that question, I'd answer flat out forty million. I've got a standing offer from Alliance for six million." ‘Right there I knew that there was more to this company than this one plant, even though this plant is larger than Franklin and larger than the plant in JC.’ "But for you DD I'm prepared to offer you the whole company, lock stock and assets, for the bargain basement price of fifteen million. I do have one stipulation though."

Sliding forward I asked, "And what would that be?"

"Only that we wrap everything up by the close of business on Friday."

"Friday?" Bob asked surprisingly. "That’s not possible. We have to check the books, verify the title for all the real property. It will take at least two weeks to get all of that completed."

I was just offered an eighty million dollar company for fifteen million, I wasn’t going to let something as trivial as paper work stand in my way. As I struggled to contain my enthusiasm and control my heartbeat, I asked, "Might I inquire what would be included with the sale of the company?"

Greg picked up his phone and asked his secretary to bring in a red box, from the vault. A few minutes later a woman entered carrying a red metallic box, that looked like it was designed to hold a dozen file folders vertically, and set it on Greg's desk. Greg thanked her and pulled some keys out of his pocket as she left.

Greg opened the box and removed a folder. "Let's see now, here is the deed for this plant and the chipping facility that's a mile up the canyon, not to mention the dormitory’s and the other buildings next to the plant, and the four thousand acres that all of that is sitting on." After reading off the generic description he placed the deed face down on his desk. "Here's the deed for the hundred-twenty thousand acres of timber that feed this plant." Again, face down on his desk. "Here's the deed for the plant near Glide, Oregon, it's sitting on six-hundred forty acres. And, here's the deeds for the timber lands that fed the Glide plant, they total about hundred thousand acres. Next we have the deed for our plant outside Walden, Oregon. She's sitting on five hundred acres of ground. Oh, and here's the deeds for timber lands that fed the Walden plant, also about a hundred thousand acres." Pausing, he looked into the box and removed a smaller folder.

"Let’s see, what else do we have for the lucky winner - oh yes, here is the deed to the warehouse in Eugene."

"Warehouse?" John asked.

"Yes. This plant is so remote it’s hard to get trucks in and out through the narrow canyon roads. It just so happens that there’s a rail line running through the canyon, so we move all of our finished products by rail to a warehouse in Eugene for distribution. That worked out so well that we bought a bigger warehouse so we could handle shipping and receiving for all three plants out of one location."

"How large is the warehouse?" Bob inquired.

"It's a million square feet with the capacity to load or unload fifty trucks at a time plus ten rail cars. Let's see, what else do we have to put on the trading table. Oh yes, I believe you'll really appreciate this, here is the deed to an estate in Spokane Washington. Oh, currently the estate is occupied."

"Occupied, by whom?" I asked.

"By my younger brother. I figure he's been free loading long enough. Maybe you can get some rent money out of him, he's never paid me anything and he's been living there for about twelve years. Besides, you might find the situation interesting, with you being his landlord. I think that covers all the real property," he said, a little absent-mindedly. Pulling yet a third folder from the box he continued. "There's a small fleet of trucks that are considered company assets, I don't keep track of each truck - the guys at the warehouse take care of them along with the ten company cars. Here's the title for the Cessna 206, and the Piper Navajo, also for my Beechcraft King Air."

"I don't want to take your plane," I offered.

"Now, now, it's a company asset. It was purchased with company funds and is maintained by the company. Besides, I just barely squeaked by on my last physical, I doubt I'll pass the next one."

"A company this size and you have three planes?" John inquired.

"Three?" Greg echoed. "I did read off three, didn't I? Where's the title for the other one?" he asked rhetorically, as he looked in to the bottom of the box.

Looking up he had another piece of paper, "I forgot about this one, here's the deed for the hangar at the Eugene airport. But the title for the other plane is missing."

Reaching for his phone, he called someone. "Lou, this is Greg. Do you know where the title is for the plane that Pete Sorensen used to fly?" "Uh ha," "Yes, I've looked there." "I know that's where it should be, but it's not there." "Lou, I know it's been four years since anyone has looked for the plane or the title. Please look through your files, to see if the title is hiding down there some place and send someone to the airport to make sure the plane is in the hangar." "Right, Lou." "Well, we might have a buyer for the plane, if we can find the title and the plane." "That sounds great. Give me a call when you know more." "Okay, thanks Lou."

"I don't know where it is, but we'll find that plane and the title. It is an asset and will need to be transferred along with the rest of assets and equipment," Greg apologized.

"What sort of aircraft did Pete Sorensen fly?" I inquired.

"It' another King Air. We upgraded both of our planes at the same time. Pete was my exec VP, he left us four years ago and I’ve just never replaced him. The other planes were used by the other plant managers. I used to have executive meeting here once a month and the plant managers flew in. They got the Cessna and the Piper when Pete and I upgraded. There isn't enough room in the hangar here for all four of them, so Pete's was stored in the hangar in Eugene."

As Greg was talking I looked over at Bob. He smiled and nodded ever so slightly. I'd been calculating things in my head, the whole time. I felt that I needed just a little more information before jumping blind into a pool of alligators.

"Greg, before making a decision I'd like to know a little more about the plants. Can you tell us what is currently being produced at each of the three plants?"

"Sure, I inherited the other two plants, plus the one I gave my daughter and son-in-law, from my father, when he passed away. We built this plant fifteen years ago and installed two new complete lines, one running Kraft paper and one running white paper. Being so remote from any local cities or towns, we knew that commuting would be a problem, so from the beginning we planned for the employees to stay on site. We built the first dormitory when we built the plant. In the beginning we ran one twelve hour shift, seven days a week. We implemented the usual scheduling for twelve hour shifts - first shift running Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and the second shift running Thursday, Friday, Saturday, with each shift alternating Wednesdays. Some of the employees didn't like the fact that on their days off they'd only be home for a day or two before they had to come back. They proposed a different schedule, which sounded reasonable, so we put it to a vote. The proposed change was almost unanimously accepted, and six months after we went online we changed to running Wednesday through Tuesday, twelve hour shifts."

"Wednesday through Tuesday, you mean they work seven days in a row?" Bob asked.

"Yes," Greg answered simply. "Then they have seven days off, while the other shift works their seven days."

"Hmm, that's an interesting schedule," Bob commented.

"The group that made the proposal called it having twenty-six weeks of vacation a year. As I said, that was shortly after we opened the plant, fifteen years ago. Five years later we added a third production line, another white paper line. Then, five years ago we made plans to add a fourth line that was to run computer paper. Before that line was ready to run we decided to shut down the other two plants. It was then that we decided to run this plant round the clock, seven days a week. That enabled us to retain almost seventy-five percent of the people from the other two plants. So, right now we're running four lines twenty-four seven and over the course of the last four years we've installed twenty-four bag making machines."

"You said you've shut down the other two plants?" I asked. I was thinking that this deal may not be as good as it first appeared.

"Yes, they are both newsprint plants, the plant in Glide has two lines and the plant in Oakridge has three. We got tired of playing Alliance's games and decided to get out of the newsprint business. There's a slightly higher profit margin in chemically treated paper, so we've been doing pretty well in that market."

"I see. John, it took us eight months to overhaul the three machines in Franklin, with a crew of six engineers. If we brought in a crew of say ten engineers, how soon do you think we could bring those plants online?"

Greg answered before John had a chance, "Seventy-two hours."

We looked back at Greg. "What?" I asked.

"If you've got the people to run them, those two plants could be online and producing paper in seventy-two hours. They may be shut down but they aren't abandoned. Every six months we send in a team of engineers and operators. They clean, lubricate, and run each machine for twenty-four hours. The equipment may not be brand new, but it's all in mint condition."

"Really, that's excellent." I paused for a moment, debating how to proceed. "Greg, normally we would sign a letter of intent and have a closing after the accountants and lawyers do their thing. However, you want to close by the end of business on Friday, which makes things a little different. On the other hand, I'm getting the same feeling about you as I had about Matt Piermont, when I bought Piermont Paper four years ago. So, I 'm going accept your purchase price of fifteen million if you'll accept a slight variation on my part. That is we'll pay you ten million on Friday and sign all the paper work. The remaining five million would be paid in thirty days, after the lawyers and accountants do what they do."

Greg thought for a few seconds before answering, "I know that the books are accurate and there are no liens or judgments, but the accountants do need a reason for beings here, don't they. As for the lawyers, sometimes I think we be better off without them, but I guess they are useful from time to time. I suppose waiting thirty days wouldn’t cause any problem, after all it’s just a formality, therefore I accept your proposal, DD," with that said, Greg stood and offered me his hand.

I stood also, taking Greg's hand I replied, "Thank you, Greg."

To which he replied, "De Forest."

I stopped shaking hands, but didn't release Greg's hand, "I beg your pardon."

"Gregory De Forest, of De Forest Paper."

"Any relation to -" I asked Greg.

"He's my young brother."

I let go of Greg's hand and sat down smiling. Then I started to chuckle as I understood everything. As the final details crossed my mind I started laughing heartily.

When I'd regained control of my laughter, John asked, "What's so funny."

"We just agreed to purchase De Forest Paper out from under the nose of Robert De Forest, because he's using the same underhanded technique as South-Core. Push them over the edge and then graciously offer them peanuts to buy them out. Not only did we buy De Forrest Paper, but we also bought the very house that Bobby lives in. Tell me Greg, how did the estate become part of De Forest Paper? I'm assuming that was where you grew up."

"Yes, that's the family estate, it was built by my grandfather. I'm third generation lumber and paper. When our father died, being the oldest, I inherited the estate and three plants in Oregon, Bobby got the plants in Washington. Bobby did okay with his plants, but he wanted more and was always looking for the quick buck. Twenty years ago he sold his plants to Alliance for a tidy profit and an upper management position, and the rest of his story is, as they say, history. As for the estate being part of De Forest Paper, that was done for tax reasons. After we built this plant and got to know the people here, my wife wanted to help with the children, so we moved into one of the larger apartments. Our sons already had places of their own, so with the estate empty Bobby asked if he and his family could live there, I figured why not. I didn't figured he would turn evil and try to cheat me out of everything."

"There are children here?" John wondered aloud.

"But of course there are children here," Greg replied. "You put men and women into the same working environment, add to that sleeping in the same apartment buildings, and naturally romance and children will find their way into the mix. I've lost count of how many families we have living here, not to mention how many families were started here. Naturally we had to set up daycare facilities. We even have a school set up for kindergarten through the eighth grade."

"Greg, am I correct in assuming that you don't want Robert to know about this until after everything is signed, on Friday?"

"That's correct. If Bobby heard you were here he'd be in that big red Lockheed Constellation of his, before his snitch could put the phone down. And he doesn't believe in leaving his plane at the end of the airstrip, he taxis right up next to the building with all four engines, of that monstrous plane, at eighty percent throttle. The few times he's visited he woke everyone that was off shift, not to mention all the children that were napping."

"I thought as much. That being the case I was wondering if you have eight guest rooms available, in your dormitory. So that way my people could stay here while they complete their assessments."

"I'm pretty sure we can accommodate your people, let me make a call and verify that. Eight rooms was it?"

"That's correct."

While Greg was on the phone, Bob asked, "Why eight rooms, there are only seven on my team counting me?"

"Because the accountants will need to do a more in-depth assessment and I'm sure Bill will want to be a part of that. You know how he loves to dig into moldy old records."

"That he does, it's almost an obsession with him," Bob agreed, with a chuckle.

"What about me," John asked. "Should I stay to help with the engineering assessments?"

"No, I still want you with me looking over the other plants. We'll want your input when it comes time for the realignment of products to plants."

Greg finished his call, as we finished our little discussion. "As I thought, there's no problem with the accommodations. They won't all be on the same floor, but they'll be comfortable."

"That's great," I replied. I then asked Greg if he would familiarize Bob with the operations of the King Air, to which he readily agreed. Leaving the King Air with Bob, I would take Flower Power 1 to continue my hoping around the Northwest. I'm sure that Bobby's informants have told him what I've been doing and that Piermont's airplane has been seen hoping around. By my taking the G1, it will prevent people from thinking I'd stopped in one place too long. The last item of business was to arrange someplace for Bob to work, some place that had a dedicated phone line. As it turned out, Pete Sorensen's office was still empty and had a dedicated phone line. Bob would be able to make all the arrangements for closing on Friday, without alerting anyone within the plant, or anyone outside the plant.

With the major details in place, we went to the conference room and informed everyone that it was time to get to work. From their response, I'd say they were excited, sitting around doing nothing is extremely boring.

"Can I have your attention?" I called out, to be heard over the noise of their excitement. "I need to explain a couple of things to everyone. First, we’ve already agreed to purchase this company so you won't be doing your normal 2 hour evaluations. Instead you'll be doing a 2 day in-depth evaluation of both the equipment and the accounts. For you engineers, there are 3 plants that we'll need complete equipment assessments on."

Bill raised his hand.

I knew what he was going to ask, I smiled as I continued, "Yes Bill, you'll be staying to oversee the evaluation of the records." Bill dropped his hand and his smile was big enough for 2 faces. "Okay, second point, this plants is quite remote so there aren't any motels close by. Because they're so remote they have several dormitories for their people to stay in, while they're on shift. We've arranged for rooms in the dormitories for all of you. So, after we're finished here we need everyone to get their luggage out of the planes. We need to get you settled in before you start your evaluations. Third, and this is the most important! What I'm about to tell you cannot leave this room. The name of this company is De Forest Paper. The owner is Robert De Forest's older brother Gregory. Now, Greg doesn't want Robert to find out about this sale until after the paperwork is signed, Friday afternoon. Therefore, nobody is to say anything about a buyout, or purchase, and especially never say the word Piermont. If anyone asks, you work for an outside firm and you are conducting an evaluation for an insurance company. Now, I know that that's more than just a little white lie and under normal conditions I would never ask that of any of you. However, these aren't normal conditions and the request came from Gregory. Any questions?"

There were no questions, just some smiles, head shaking, and some chuckling.

"All right, let's get the luggage and get you settled."

Mr. Watson had the room assignments by the time everyone returned with their luggage. Once everyone was settled Bill and the accountants descended upon the accounting department, like a hawk on a field mouse, the rest of our group headed to the plant floor. Once there, John and the engineers started their in-depth inspection routine, while Greg, Bob, Susan, and I toured the rest of the plant.

To say we were impressed, would be putting it mildly. Even though Greg was third generation, this was not another Appalachian take over. Everyone in the plant was busy and hardworking, they obviously took a lot of pride in their work and the products they produced.

We didn't go out to see the chipping operation, but we did see where the chips were delivered to the plant, via a long conveyor belt. Greg explained that with everyone living at the plant, at least during their seven days on, the chipping operation had to be some distance from the plant. After several years of trucking the chips in, they determined it would be more cost effective to install conveyors. The bark and other waste matter that was used to feed the pulp furnaces, were also brought to the plant on conveyors.

Once we finished looking at the plant, we went over to the living quarters for a better look see. The buildings were attached to the plant by a wide covered walkway for easy access, year round. The walkway opened into a large, circular, open space. The ceiling, which was two stories up, was about forty percent skylight. Greg escorted us to the center of the space where he proceeded to point out the amenities. Proceeding counter clockwise, there was the new cafeteria, the entrance to apartment block three, the band stage, the entrance to the infirmary, the entrance to apartment block two, the daycare and school, the entrance to apartment block one, and the old cafeteria which they had remodeled into an upscale restaurant, for those special evenings.

Three hours later Susan, John, and I arrived in Elkton with a cover story of problems with The King Air. Along with a sad story of stranding Bob and his team in a little town, near a remote airstrip, waiting for the rental company to make the repairs. After touring the plant and negotiating another partnership, I called Nancy to learn the location of my next appointment and to pass on that Bob's team would be out of the rotation for the rest of the week.

We only managed to get to five plants on Wednesday. At least five that we're willing to talk about.

We did better on Thursday, we toured and concluded negotiations at seven plants.

Friday, July 14, 1972

Friday morning I called the dedicated phone that Bob was using to get an update on the progress.

"Well DD, this is the fastest we tried to push something like this through, but I think it's all coming together. Our bank sent their papers via courier yesterday evening. The lawyers should be finishing the legalese this morning. The courier from our bank should have dropped off their paperwork yesterday evening. By noon everything should be in the hands of your secretary, at the Ameri-Moore headquarters in Portland, waiting for you to pick them up and bring everything back here for the signing."

"That's great, Bob. I'm constantly amazed by the way you can pull a few strings and all the details fall into place."

"Thanks boss. I've had more fun in the last four years, than I had in the previous ten. I've never for a moment regretted asking to stay on at Piermont. And the next few hours should be exciting."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because, I've never signed a check for ten million dollars before."

"A check?"

"That's what Greg wanted, a cashier’s check. The bank wouldn't allow that size check with only one signature, so we both have to sign it."

"That's going to be a first for me too, Bob. I’ll see you about 2:00pm. I've got two plants to visit this morning and then I'll head for Portland."

The two plants we saw Friday morning, were nothing special. Both owners went with the partnership option, I'd offered. That made nine new acquisitions, plus De Forest Paper, which made it twelve new plants, thirteen plants in partnership agreements, and five that I had not visited.

Upon arriving at Ameri-Moore headquarters, to collect the paper work for De Forest Paper, my shared secretary told me that Mrs. Moore wanted to see me. Slipping next door, I spoke briefly with Grandma's secretary before she informed Grandma that I was there and was told to go right in.

"Hello sweetheart," Grandma said, as I entered.

"Hi Grandma,” I replied, as I crossed the office. I gave Grandma a hug, and said, “I didn't expect to be back here so soon."

"You're always welcome to come spend some time with me. So tell me about this deal that had to close in two days."

"We were trying to keep it very hush, hush. How did you hear about it?"

"From the legal department. They were a bit upset when Bob called and told them how fast you needed the paper work completed. I told them, that if you needed something rushed, they should rush it and have it ready for you. After all, how often have you made such a request? So tell me, what's the deal and why the rush?"

"Well, you know Robert De Forest?"

"I suppose that goes without saying, of course I know him. Not personally you understand, but I know of him."

"Do you know his older brother, Gregory De Forest?"

"Like Robert, I know of him, not much more than that."

"Well, Greg owns De Forest Paper and apparently there is quite the rivalry between the two of them."

"You mean Greg is selling De Forest Paper to you and not his brother?"

"Exactly. Not only De Forest paper, which has three plants, there are also three-hundred seventy-five thousand acres of timber lands, and a million square foot warehouse in Eugene. The company also owns four airplanes and an estate in Spokane, Washington."

"Spokane? Isn't that where Alliance's North American headquarters is?"

"Yes it is."

"So this estate is -"

"Where Bobby lives. It has been the De Forest family home for three generations."

"Oh my. What on earth are you going to do with the estate?"

"Piermont has no use for it. We don't have anything in the Spokane area. Would Ameri-Moore have any use for an estate in Spokane?"

"No, we don't have anything in the immediate vicinity."

"I guess we'll just sell it off. If Bobby want's it, he can have it, for whatever the appraised value is."

"So, the urgency of closing in two days?"

"Is to have everything signed before Bobby hears about it. Greg says that Bobby would fly in yelling and screaming, if he caught wind that we're buying De Forest Paper. But how could I refuse that kind of deal, an eighty million dollar company, for fifteen million. Even though I know that Bobby is going to be hopping mad, I couldn't walk away from a deal like that."

"I understand, and it’s understandable that Bobby is going to be upset. If you're going to get all the paper work signed today, you'd better get going."

"Yes, I'd better take off, literally. Grandma, are you busy this afternoon?"

"Busy? I'm always busy, it's just a question of what I'm busy with. Why?"

"I thought you might like to come along, just for the ride."

"That's a tempting offer, dear. I've been cooped up in this office most of the week. However, if I were present at the closing, some people may think that I'm running Piermont, and we wouldn't want to give anyone that idea."

"You're right grandma, as usual. We'll go flying some other time. By the way, I'm getting a new plane."

"Another one?"

"Actually, I'm going to keep one of the planes we're getting with De Forest Paper, as my personal plane. It's a five year old Beechcraft King Air."

"I've heard of those, but I've never seen one."

"They're a very nice looking little aircraft. Twin turboprop engines, with a very plush interior, for such a small aircraft, and it’s just about as fast as Piermont's Gulfstream 1."

"I look forward to seeing it. I assume you'll be keeping it at the ranch?"

"Yes, it will be at the ranch, during those rare occasions when I'm there. I'll have to do a little sweet talking to get Auntie to build another hangar. I'd better get going. Susan, John, and Jerry are waiting for me. Oh that reminds me, what would you think of Ameri-Moore getting a plane for Susan to use for her inspection tours? She likes the King Air as well."

Grandma had a look of surprise on her face. So I quickly added, "Just something to think about. I'll see you later Grandma." And with that I left her office and headed back to the airport.

We touched down gently on the grass airstrip and I brought the G1 to a stop at the side of the hangar, instead of in front. I didn't see Robert De Forest's plane anywhere, at least as Greg had described it. I was hoping our little secret was still a secret and would remain so for at least a few more days.

We made our way to Bob's office for a conference, before meeting with Greg. Both Bob and Bill had done a superb job in collecting information about De Forest Paper. There were no outstanding loans or leans, AP's were up to date, and AR's were within the expected normal range for our industry. The engineers had plenty of time to go over all the equipment thoroughly. They were pleased to report that everything was in top condition, exactly as reported. Bob had enough forethought to have two checks prepared, one for the ten million, as we had agreed on, on Wednesday, and one for the full fifteen million, just in case everything checked out. I was very happy with the work that everyone had done and with their results. Only one matter of business remained, the meeting with Gregory De Forest and close the deal.

Greg and Mr. Watson met with Bob, Bill, Jerry, Susan, and I in Greg's office. "Good afternoon, Greg," I said, after being admitted.

"Welcome back, DD. I hope you're here with good news and I see another guest," Greg replied.

"Yes indeed Greg, very good news. Also, I'd like to introduce Jerry DeLuca, our Northwest region VP. This is who Mr. Watson will be reporting to, in the future. How about you, Greg, do you have good news to share?"

"Most certainly. We found the other King Air. She was in the hangar, right where she was supposed to be. The title was being held by the mechanic that we’d used from time to time. It seems there was some work done on the plane, just before Pete Sorensen left the company. Somehow the bill must have been misplaced, because it was never paid. The mechanic was holding the title, instead of putting a mechanics lean on the plane. I'm not sure how he got the title, but that's all been squared away, he's been paid, and we have the title. We've requested and paid him, in advance, to bring all the FAA inspections current. The plane should be ready to fly next Wednesday, or Thursday."

"That is good news, and how about the appraisal on the estate in Spokane?" I asked.

"The appraiser finished about an hour ago. He called to give me a verbal report." Greg passed me a sheet of paper with lots of notes. "The official report will arrive next Tuesday, with the rest of the weekly mail."

"Are you sure you don't want to keep the family estate?" I asked.

"Not at all. After living here for the last fifteen years, with the peace and quiet that Mother Nature provides, my wife and I can't stand the noise of the city. When Grandad built the place, it was way out of town. Over the years Spokane has grown and grown, now the estate is on the edge of what is considered downtown. The wife and I have an island in the Puget Sound. We're far enough out to not be bothered by the noise pollution, but close enough for a weekly run for supplies, by boat. The grass airstrip is long enough for the King Air and I think possibly your Gulfstream, but certainly not Bobby's Constellation."

"It sounds like you have everything in place for a relaxing retirement."

"Just one thing missing, would you be so kind as to fly us to our island, Sunday morning?" Greg asked.

"We'd be happy to," Bob replied, with a smile.

"Great. Now, what have your people found out?"

I nodded towards Bob and he started the report of our inspection team's findings, "Our engineers reported that all of the equipment, both here and at the other two plants, are in top condition. The only exceptions are the conveyor belts, that transport the chips to the plant. Your engineers indicated that new belts have been ordered."

"Actually, they are at the warehouse in Eugene. We just haven't had them sent down," Mr. Watson reported.

"Wonderful," I commented, and continued. "So, obviously nothing is a-miss with plants. Bill and his team have been through your books, with a fine tooth comb and have found nothing there that would cause us to be concerned, Bob was even able to get most if the titles checked, everything there is also clean with no leans. Therefore, we are ready to sign the contracts and transfer ownership to Piermont, with one slight change to the arrangement we agreed to last Wednesday."

"And what might that be?" Greg asked suspiciously.

"Well, Bill and his team managed to do in two days what would normally take two to three weeks. So, with all that they've accomplished, we're ready to close and convey to you the entire purchase amount of fifteen million, instead of ten million now and the remaining five million in thirty days. Assuming of course, that you're prepared to accept the full fifteen million."

Greg was chuckling softly as I spoke, stopping moments after I'd finished. "Yes, I think I can handle taking the full fifteen million. It will be a great hardship, but somehow I'll manage."

"I guess, all that's left to do is sign some documents."

I removed the prepared documents from my briefcase and passed them to Greg. He and Mr. Watson took their time going through them, before Greg started signing anything. When Greg was finished he passed the documents back to me. I then signed the various places where my signature was required. By the time Bill had finished signing and applying his notary seal, Bob and I had signed the cashier’s check and exchanged paper work with Greg.

"DD, it's been a pleasure doing business with you," Greg said, as we shook hands.

"The pleasure is mine," I replied. "I must admit that I feel just a little guilty about only paying fifteen million, for a company that is worth so much more, but you set the price."

"Yes I did, but like I said before, that price was only to you because I know that you'll take care of my people. You will take care of my people, won't you?"

"I don't know about your people, but I can assure you that I have always tried to take good care of my people."

"Being that the company is now in your hands, I suppose they are your people, so I'll trust you to take care of everyone. I guess as a finally act, as President of De Forest Paper, I should have my secretary send out a memo announcing the sale to Piermont."

"I'd suggest you wait until Sunday to send out that memo. I don't know how news travels around this part of the country, but around Brandon the purchase of another company was one of the hardest secrets to keep. I'm almost surprised that your dear brother Bobby hasn't mysteriously appeared," I cautioned.

"I suppose you're right about that, corporate secrets are hard to keep secret. I'll leave the memo with Mr. Watson, he can distribute it on Monday. I suppose there won't be a need for a president’s private secretary, after today."

"No, I'm afraid not. We will try a find a place for everyone that is displaced, due to the change in ownership," I assured Greg.

"Just how many are you talking about?" Mr. Watson asked.

"I'm not exactly certain, most of the accounting functions will be merged into our accounting department at the regional headquarters, in Portland. There will be a need for a few accountants here, but the tasks will change somewhat. Sales will be merged into our regional office as well. Although, we also have an outside sales force that work from their homes. Some of the sales staff might be suited to join that group. We try to find a spot for anyone whose job is eliminated. Not to mention the fact, when we bring the other plants online some of the work force here may desire to return to their home towns, creating some openings" I further clarified.

"So there won't be any layoffs?" Mr. Watson asked.

"I can't promise that, but like I said, we try to be as accommodating as we can, in finding jobs for anyone who is displaced and wants to work."

"What about . . . management?" Mr. Watson inquired further.

"We will bring in a temporary management team. Their job is to learn how this plant operates and to evaluate the existing management team. If the current management team is competent and hardworking, they'll be left in their current positions," Bob explained.

"Sounds like a reasonable approach. All of my management team worked their way up through the ranks, so I'm sure that you'll be happy with their performance," Greg stated.

"It's a system that has worked well for us over the years. I know of other companies that simply move their own people in when they take over. However, we've had great success with our approach and we have retained some very valuable and talented personal along the way," Bob added.

"Mr. Watson, One last item before we head out. If the younger Mr. De Forest should stop by, be sure to give Mr. DeLuca a call. He'll know how to get in touch with me," I explained.

"Absolutely Miss Drake."

With our immediate business concluded, we loaded everyone into the G1, or the King Air rental, and headed for Portland. Thursday morning I had called Rick Landis and moved our meeting from Friday to Saturday, I wanted to spend Friday evening with our inspection teams. I had Nancy find a nice restaurant, with a private dining room, for a congratulatory dinner. After everyone had enjoyed their fill of Prime Rib, with all the trimmings, I stood and gently tapped my, unused, wine glass.

"I just want to take a few moments to thank each and every one of you for the incredible job you've done over the last four days. Some of you may not be fully aware of what we have just accomplished. However, when the word gets out about what we've done, the entire paper industry will sit up and take notice, Piermont Paper is moving onward and upward." I paused until the applause died down. "For those of you who haven't kept track, let me bring you up to date. We've signed 'Letters of Intent' to purchase ten single plant companies." Another pause. "We've signed contracts and entered into a partnership agreements with thirteen companies." More applause. "And last but not least, the coup-de-gras! Many of you are aware that inspection team one suddenly dropped off the face of the Earth for two days, now that the papers are signed, I can tell you why. Wednesday morning, Nancy received a phone call, and rerouted team one to a remote plant in central Oregon. The next time I was in the air, I received a radio call from Bob, requesting that I join him. Everything about the company was very secretive, we didn’t even know the name of the company and the name of the owner, it turned out there was a good reason. In spite of the secrecy, the negotiations proceeded quickly and we agreed to purchase the company, with one stipulation on their part, that all the paper work be signed, and the transfer of funds be completed by the close of business today. We now own two additional newsprint plants, one with two, and the other with three, forming machines, plus another large plant producing chemically processed paper, with four forming machines, and a bagging operation, that makes Concord's look small. In addition to the three plants we acquired a one million square foot warehouse, almost four-hundred thousand acres of timber, an assortment of vehicles, and some other assets. An impressive acquisition you must agree, and now the reason for the secrecy.

"The owner of the company didn't want his younger brother to find out about the sale, until everything was finalized. He didn't want to get into another argument about how a business should be run. I'm pleased to announce, that as of this afternoon Piermont Paper has purchased the De Forest Paper Company, lock, stock, and trademark. The younger brother is none other than, the North American, Division President, for Alliance Paper International, Robert De Forest." There was a moment of silence, before the applause started, along with some laughter and cheering.

After the cheering died down, I continued, "We don't know as yet what ramifications may follow, but I'm sure someone is not going to be happy. In the meantime, most of you will be returning home in the morning, and I wanted to thank you all for your hard work. I hope you enjoyed your meal and I'm sure you'll enjoy having a paid day off when you get home, so you can spend the time with your families and loved ones. You've all earned it." Once more, I had to pause for a round of cheering. "However, there are still five sites to look over, so I'm asking two teams to remain here, so we can finish what we've started. I've asked Bob Warren to remain, along with his team, as well as Jerry DeLuca and his team. Both those teams will get paid time off when they return to their families. If you're on one of those teams, but have a pressing need to return home, get with your team leader and we'll make arrangements to trade people around. Thank you again, and have a safe trip home,"

Being that I had most of my VP's in Oregon, we held a short meeting after everyone else had left the dining room. "Gentlemen, it has been an exciting week," I started. "The next few months should be just as exciting, if not more so. Bill, we'll need you and your accounting teams, working round the clock, to get us the numbers we need. Knowing the cost per plant and average costs, are now your number one priority."

"We have most of that already and should be able to put together the final numbers by the end of next week," Bill confidentiality replied.

"That will be great, Bill. Ron, Gerard, you'll need to contact the management personal from your regions that will be temporarily assigned to the new plants, as soon as you get back. I'd like three management teams from each region in JC, ready to lift off at 8:00 am, a week from Sunday. Bob, you can contact the folks in the Northeast by phone, from here, or it can wait until Wednesday from your office."

"You don't want to have our people in place sooner?" Bob asked.

"That would be nice, but logistically, I think a week from Sunday is the earliest we can get you home, spend some time with your family, and be ready to leave again," I replied.

"I suppose my wife and kids would like to know what I look like," Bob added sarcastically.

"Ron, I'd like you to come back up at that time, to help me ferry our new airplanes back to Owosso and JC. I'm not sure which plane to leave here in Portland and which one to take to Owosso. Jerry, Gerard, you two get together and decide who gets the Cessna 206 and who gets the Piper Navajo. While we're on the subject of airplanes, I'll let all of you know of a decision I've been wrestling with making. Due to our company being so spread out, I've decided that all of the company’s Vice Presidents will be required to have their pilot’s license."

"All VP's?" Bill asked.

"Yes Bill, even you. As VP of Finance, I think you should be doing an on-site inspection of each regional office every six months."

Over the next hour, we discussed several topics, before I adjourned the meeting. Everyone had a full day scheduled and would need their sleep.

"Well Susan, do you still think that what I do is more luck than logic?" I asked, as we settled into bed.

"I don't know, sis. You do collect as much information as you can, before making your decisions, but I still think there's a lot of luck and magic involved."

"After spending a week with me, you still think its more guess work, than logical decision making?"

"I wouldn't put it that way, exactly. It's more like watching a magician performing. To the magician, everything makes perfect sense, but those watching are still mystified."

"Well thanks, Suz. It does sound better that way. I guess it helps to have Grandma adding to my reputation, pretty soon everyone will think I’m a magician. So, are you going to stick around for the weekend and go with us on Monday, or do you want to get back to the inspections?"

"Oh my, hang around with my sister and watch her perform magic, or go off on my own and make sure everyone else is working. That's a tough choice to make," Susan said sarcastically. "But, I've always enjoyed watching a good magic act."

I smiled, as I came up with a suitable reply. "Ladies and gentlemen, for my next trick I will blot out the sun, leaving our small corner of the world in complete darkness," as I reached over and turned off the bedside lamp.

"Nice build up sis, but the sun went down a couple of hours ago."

"We are in darkness, aren't we?"

"Good night, Darla."

"Good night, Suz."

* * * To Be Continued * * *

Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]

Chapter 6

By Penny Reed Cardon

This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.

It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.

Chapter 6

Saturday, July 15, 1972

We said farewell, then watched as most of our people headed for home aboard the rented G1. Then I took Bob, John, and what was left of our gang to Tony's for breakfast; finally we got some good French toast.

Next on the agenda, call Gregory De Forest.

"Good Morning Greg."

"DD, is that you?"

"Yes it is. I apologize for calling so earl. Bob and I were thinking of making a trip or two your way, to ferry the Cessna 206 and the Piper Navajo back here to Portland."

"That's fine, come by any time you'd like. Dave Watson has the keys. I'll let him know to expect you."

"Greg, as Bob and I were discussing the King Air, we wondered if moving it was the right thing to do, at this time. I guess the real question is, how much luggage or cargo do you want flown up to your island? Don't get me wrong; we're not trying to set a limit. We just want to make sure we have enough aircraft to do the job."

"Right now, I can't answer that question, my wife is still packing,” Gregg replied, with a little chuckle. “We did decide that we're leaving most of the furniture here; the house on the island is completely furnished, anything we take from here will be excess. Of course, there are all the little personal touches that make the apartment home."

"I know exactly what you mean, Greg. I'm guessing, from this conversation, you'll need more cargo space than what one King Air is rated for. So I'll keep the King Air, that we’ve rented, for a few more days."

"What about that Gulfstream of yours?"

"You know, we were thinking about that, but you weren't sure if the runway on your island was long enough. I can't tell you how mad I'd be at myself, if I flew her in and then couldn't take off."

"I do see your point, DD. I'm sure there will be more cargo than one King Air can handle. I don't know if we'll exceed two or not."

"I guess that's a close enough for a guess. If we need to make two trips, we will. Well, we'll see you a little later, Greg."

"I'm looking forward to it."

Turning to Bob, after I'd hung up with Greg, I said, "Being that we're keeping the King Air, we'll take it down to pick up the other two planes."

"It's too bad we don't have another pilot up here, then we'd only have to make one trip," Bob replied.

"Another pilot, I wonder if he's available." I mumbled, as I reached for the phone.

"Hello." came the usual response, as the phone was answered.

I recognized her voice and gave the customary reply, "Hello Grandma."

"Darla Anne, is that you?"

"Who else calls you Grandma?"

"Well, there's Judy, Mary, and Susan."

"You have a point there, but how many of them sound like me?"

"You are indeed one of a kind. So, is there something I can do for you?"

"Well, being that you're at the apartment, does that mean that Captain O'Toole is available?"

"All the planes that you have at your disposal and you want to use the jet?"

"Actually, I'm only interested in Captain O'Toole as a pilot, I don't want the jet. Bob and I want to bring the two smaller planes up from De Forest paper, so the mechanics can look them over next week. If we had another pilot we'd only have to make one trip, down and back. Of course you're welcome to come along for the ride."

"I think I'll pass on the plane ride, my dear, I get plenty of those. As far as Captain O'Toole’s services, I don't believe he's flying anyone today, although he may have some personal plans. I'll have him call you and you two can work things out."

"Thanks Grandma, love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

Less than fifteen minutes had passed before my phone started ringing.

"Hello."

"Hello, is Miss Darla Drake there?"

"This is Darla Drake. Captain O'Toole?"

"Yes ma'am. Is there something I can do for you?"

"There is, I'm in need of an extra pilot."

"An extra pilot?" he asked.

"Exactly. You see, we purchased a company yesterday, which has four small planes as part of their corporate assets. One is in Eugene being serviced and bringing its FAA inspections up to date. The other three are at the company headquarters, they're in a remote area, in central Oregon. I want to move the two smaller planes up to Portland so the Ameri-Moore mechanics can go over them."

"It takes two to fly the company jet."

"Oh, I'm sorry for the misunderstanding. The airfield is grass, so taking the jet down is out of the question. We've rented a Beechcraft King Air that I’ve been using to hop around the Northwest all week. We were planning on taking the King Air down. I have Bob Warren with me, and we could make two trips. However, if you’re available, there'd be three pilots for the three planes, flying back, thereby needing to only make one trip."

"Now I understand. Unfortunately, my family and I have plans for today, we were just leaving when Mrs. Moore called."

"Oh, I'm sorry for intruding on your time with your family."

"Oh no, you're fine Miss Drake, I'm always happy to help. So you just need a pilot, for a few hours. I know some people who might be available. What would they be flying?"

"Either a Cessna 206 or the Piper Navajo, perhaps the King Air. We really haven't decided who would fly what on the return leg of the trip."

"They're all fun little airplanes. Let me make a few calls and I'll see what I can set up."

About 5 minutes later the phone rang, naturally I answered, "Hello."

"Miss Drake? This is Captain O'Toole."

"Yes, did you find me a pilot?"

"Well, I was wondering, what is the configuration of the King Air you're flying? That is how many seats are in the cabin?"

"There are 6 seats in the cabin and of course, 2 in the cockpit, why?"

"How many are going on your little trip?"

"Bob Warren, my sister Susan, and myself of course. Why?"

"Well, I've talked about you so frequently, at home, that my wife would like to meet you and your sister. Then there's this thing about me flying all over the world and my children have never been flying. So I was wondering -"

I knew what was coming and interrupted, with a giggle, "Say no more, captain. Your family is more than welcome to join us. How many children do you have?"

"Three, 2 boys and a girl," he replied. To his family, I heard him say, "We can all go." After which I heard the cheering of little voices in the background. "Miss Drake, where is the plane?"

"It's tied down in front of the Ameri-Moore hangar."

"Terrific, I think I can find that. What time do you want to leave?"

"About an hour from now, say 10 o'clock?"

"We'll be there, Miss Drake. Thanks again."

"My pleasure, captain. See you in an hour."

"Well, we have our third pilot, and what should be some very giggly passengers." I informed Bob and Susan.

"We should stop on the way and get some snacks for the kids," Susan suggested.

"Maybe some gum, to help their ears pop," I commented. "We'll be at the plant around lunch time and we can eat in the cafeteria. I wonder what's on the menu."

"I didn't know Capital O'Toole had children," Bob added.

“I guess everyone has a surprise or two that aren’t common knowledge,” I replied. Susan smiled and nodded.

We arrived at the planes with 10 minutes to spare. Moments later a sky blue, Chrysler, station wagon pulled up next to the Ameri-Moore hangar. Even without the captain's hat, that he normally wears, I recognized Captain O'Toole. I assumed the others in the car were his family. It didn't take long for 3 excited kids to herd their parents to where we were waiting.

"I want to thank you again, Miss Drake. I haven't seen the kids this excited since last Christmas," Captain O'Toole said.

"Now that's enough of that, Captain. We're happy to have your family along. Now then, who is everyone?"

"Oh yes, introductions, how thoughtless of me. Everyone, this is Miss Darla Anne Drake," the captain started, pointing to me. "Her sister, Miss Susan Drake, and Mr. Robert Warren. This is my wife, Margaret. This young man is Patrick Jr, he's 12. And, this is Walter, he's 9. And this little princess is Melissa, she's 6."

"6 and a half, daddy," Melissa corrected, looking up at her father.

Captain O'Toole smiled as he bent down to snatch his daughter around her waist. He lifted her easily and swung her around once before gently cradling her in his arms and kissing her nose. "My apologies Princess, she's 6 and a half."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Darla and you too Miss Susan," Margaret quietly greeted. "Patrick has told us so much about your travels over the years, it almost seems like you're part of the family. And the kids have thoroughly enjoyed the cakes and pies you've sent home with him."

While her mother was talking, Melissa was tugging on her daddy’s shoulder. "All right, Princess, what do you want?"

"Can we go for a ride in that airplane? It's pretty," Melissa exclaimed, while pointing at Piermont's G1.

Susan giggled, Bob smiled and shook his head, slightly, while I softly sighed.

"That is a pretty airplane," Margaret replied to her daughter, gently lifting her from her father's arms.

"I don't think so, Princess, I don't know who owns that . . . airplane. Wait a moment . . . it looks like. Umm, Miss Darla, isn't that the Gulfstream 1 you purchased last fall?"

"Yes, that's our G1," I replied.

"May I ask, why did you paint it like a flower garden?"

"That was Stan Roskelly's idea. He's our fleet manager," I answered.

"That's actually a blown up copy of the MoPaper, Flower Power notebook," Susan added.

"Of course, it is. I recognize it now," Margaret declared. "The kids love the colorful MoPaper notebooks and Melissa just loves the pads with all the colorful paper. Sometimes she goes through a pad a week, with all of her little art projects."

"So, can we go for a ride in the pretty airplane, Daddy?" Melissa asked, craning her head around to look at her father.

"I don't know, Princess. You'll have to ask Miss Darla, it's her airplane."

Turning to me, the excited 6 and a half year-old asked, "Miss Darla, can we go for a ride in your pretty airplane, please?"

"Well, I was planning on taking this little airplane," I replied.

"But, it's not as pretty," Melissa complained.

Smiling I reached out and gently tweaked her little nose, "Okay, because you asked so nicely, we'll take the pretty one. Just for the Princess."

"Yippee!!!" she squealed.

I rummaged around in my flight bag, as I walked over to Flower Power one, and pulled out the keys. Operating the release, the door with stairs swung down.

"All aboard," I called out.

Without any hesitation, the three kids climbed aboard. The first step was a bit of a stretch for Melissa, but with a little help from her mother she managed to get up and in.

As Susan passed by she said, "You sounded more like a railroad conductor than a stewardess."

"I wasn't trying to sound like a stewardess," I commented.

I followed Susan into the plane with Bob and Captain O'Toole following me. Once inside, I stepped aside and waited.

After Bob and Captain O'Toole were aboard I asked, "So who's going to fly the out bound leg?"

I must have caught both gentlemen off guard because neither of them said anything.

"Being that you had the keys, I assumed you'd be flying the G1, Bob finally admitted.

I looked at Captain O'Toole, "Captain, you never availed yourself of the opportunity to check her out in Brandon. Care to take her up?"

"I've never flown a G1 before," the Captain started to say.

Interrupting, I countered, "I'm sure Bob would be happy to ride in the right seat, on the way down. I'm pretty sure he's logged more hours in her than I have."

"If you're sure," the Captain replied, with a broad smile.

"I tell you what, Captain. Why don't you lift off, so you can get the feel of her, and then turn it over to Bob. Then you can sit with your wife and kids, for a while. When we're getting close, you go back up and set her down," I suggested. "We'll decide who is flying what, when we're ready to come home."

"That's a great idea, Miss Darla," the Captain agreed.

"Works for me," Bob concurred.

Smiling, I handed Captain O'Toole the keys, they went forward and I went aft, to sit next to Susan.

"You're not flying this trip?" Susan asked.

"Sure I am, just not right now. We haven't decided who will be flying which plane, coming back to Portland. Captain O'Toole will take off and land, to gain experience with the G1. Other than that, Bob will do most of the flying going down. That way Captain O'Toole can come back here and sit with his family."

"That's nice. Your idea?"

"Yep, and this way I'll have some time to think about what to tell Rick Landis this afternoon."

"Rick Landis, isn't he that crazy reporter that was hounding you for an interview a couple of years ago. Why would you want to talk with him?"

"Yes, that's him. Even though he was a pest, he hasn't printed anything that wasn't true. He exaggerated a bit, but he was always truthful. The way Bob and I figure it, Robert De Forest is going to be hopping mad about what we've just done. We also figured, that the only way to keep De Forest from retaliating, is to go public.

“We're going to give Rick all the information we have about Alliance's underhanded operation, without committing perjury, or saying anything that they can sue us for. We'll explain about the price war being forced upon us, what we're doing to stay alive as a company, and how we'll put an end to the price war, resuming our normal pricing just as soon as Alliance declares a stalemate."

"Stalemate? Don't you want to win the war, force them to admit defeat?"

"Susan, nobody wins a war. It doesn't matter if it is a price war, an economic war, a war between neighboring countries, or a world war, nobody wins, there are only losers. Some may lose less than others, but everyone loses something. I just hope that Robert De Forest doesn't drag it out too long, just because his pride is hurt."

"Are you going to tell Rick that you suspect Alliance of torching your headquarters?"

"No. We don't have any proof, and saying anything along those lines would open us up to a libel suit. I can tell Rick that the investigation team, have released their findings, they have declared the fire to be arson. Now the Vermont state police and the insurance company will try and determine just who set the fire. I can also pass on the names of the plant owners who were being pressured to sell, by and to Alliance. Several have agreed to talk with Rick and to tell him what the Alliance reps were saying about Piermont."

"That should make for some interesting reading, Darla."

"It should indeed. Especially knowing how much research Rick puts into his stories before they go to print."

About ten minutes after we were up to our cruising altitude, Captain O'Toole came back to sit with his family. He was surprised to find them all chewing gum. Susan had passed it out before they'd even started the engines.

Captain O'Toole had a hard time staying away from the cockpit for too long, thirty minutes after he sat down he was back up and heading forward. As is his custom, about twenty minutes before landing Captain O'Toole called back to us, requesting that our seatbelts be fastened. As we dropped through the cloud cover and leveled off, I had a feeling we were in the wrong place. Where I should have been seeing trees I saw a sparsely populated subdivision. After several minutes of studying the town below us, I thought I recognized it as being Roseburg, Oregon. Feeling a little adventurous, I popped my seatbelt and made my way forward.

"Gentlemen, is there a problem up here?" I quietly asked.

"You shouldn't be up here Miss Darla," Captain O'Toole said.

"That may be, but as the president of the company, I sometimes like to be adventurous. So why are we over Roseburg?"

"We don't know exactly where on the charts, the plant is located, but we did know where Roseburg is," Captain O'Toole started to explain.

"So we decided to fly it like we did last Wednesday," Bob explained. "Fly to Roseburg, take a heading of zero, four, five for thirty minutes, and look for the plant," Bob continued.

"We just hadn't counted on such a heavy cloud cover," Captain O'Toole concluded.

"Sounds like a plan. Let us know when we should be getting close and Suz and I will help look for the plant."

Returning to the main cabin Susan asked, "Is everything okay?"

"Nothing major," I replied, as I glanced over my shoulder. "They're just lost and neither one wants to get out and ask for directions."

Susan cracked up, laughing.

Margaret had a look on her face that was somewhere between terror and disbelief.

Giggling, I corrected myself, "Actually, everything is fine, we just hadn't counted on all the clouds. In about twenty-five minutes Susan and I need to help look for the plant."

Right on schedule, they started a search pattern. I moved to the left side of the plane while Susan stayed on the right side.

Fifteen minutes later Susan called out, "I think I see it, at about three o'clock."

I quickly moved to an empty seat on the right side and found what Susan had seen. "That's confirmed. Come right ninety degrees and we should be over the plant in a couple of minutes."

We circled the plant and airstrip twice, before lining up to land, Southeast to Northwest. We turned around and taxied back down the grass strip, coming to a stop on the concrete apron, in front of the hangar. I went forward and opened the door and descended the few stairs.

The three kids came to the doorway with their mother. "Can we go play," they asked in unison.

"I don't know where you can play, you'll have to ask Miss Darla," Margaret replied.

"Of course you can come out and play. Do you see that big building and all the grass between here and there?"

"Yes," they replied.

"You can run and play anywhere on that grass," I told them.

The two boys were down the stairs and off like a shot. Melissa was slightly more reserved, as she needed just a little help getting down the stairs, but once she was standing on the ground, she was off, after her brothers, calling out "Wait for me."

The boys stopped and looked at their sister. Running again, they quickly closed the gap between themselves and their sister. As they passed her, one on each side, they lightly tapped her shoulder and called out, "Tag, you're it."

Turning quickly, in pursuit of Walter, she cried out, "No fair."

I looked at Margaret and I smiled, saying "Some things never change."

"Oh, I know exactly what you mean. My older brothers were absolute demons when we were together. But, they were sure protective of their little sister when the school-yard bullies started sniffing around."

"You've got that right. Darla Anne is the baby in our family. Only once did a bully try messing with her. She learned real fast that Darla had three older sisters," Susan explained.

"Four girls, I'll bet that made for some crazy times around the bathroom, getting really for school or a dance."

"It wasn't too bad," Susan said. "Every bedroom has its own bathroom."

"My goodness, where do you live, in a hotel?" Margaret asked.

"It's been called that, on more than one occasion," Susan stated, with a giggle.

"We've been living with our aunt since our father was killed by a drunk driver and mother was hospitalized, six years ago. She owns an oil company in Texas. Auntie sort of adopted all of us, mom included," I explained.

"That's terrible. Is your mother all right?" Margaret asked.

"She was laid up for about five months, but she's doing just fine," Susan replied.

Bob and the Captain had finished shutting down the G1 and had joined us on the concrete apron. Together we all started walking towards the plant.

It took me a moment to remember one of the details about this plant. "Margaret, around the west end of the dormitory complex is a good size playground. I'm sure that this time of day, on a Saturday, there will be lots of kids, from the resident families, to play with. If you want to herd the kids in that direction, we'll send someone to get you when it's time for lunch."

"A playground, resident families, what kind of place are you running here?" Captain O'Toole asked.

"Piermont just signed paperwork to acquire the plant yesterday, so it’s none of our doing," Bob replied. "It's so remote; commuting for the employees wasn't feasible. When they built the plant, the owners built a dormitory to house the employees, while they were off shift, but were scheduled to work the next day. In the beginning they worked twelve hour shifts, three on, four off, then four on three off."

"As time passed schedules changed and families started living here full time," I continued. "There are three dormitories now, along with a large cafeteria, a school for Kindergarten through the eighth grade, a day care for younger children, a medical clinic, and a small restaurant, if you want a special night out."

"It sounds like quite the community," Margaret commented. She then veered off, heading towards the west end of the complex, calling for the kids to go with her.

We entered the plant through the same door as the day before. As was the case from the day before; we were greeted by a receptionist.

"Good morning Miss Drake, gentlemen. Welcome to De Forest Paper. How may I help you?"

This particular receptionist hadn't been here on either of my previous visits. Naturally, I was a little concerned, thinking the secret was out already.

"You know me?" I asked.

"Oh, we've never met, but I know who you are," she confessed. "Every other Tuesday I work the front reception desk. Part of my job there is the initial sorting of the weekly mail. I've seen your picture many times, on the cover of Paper Press."

"They really need to be more creative," I said. "We'd like to see Mr. Watson. We're picking up two airplanes and he's supposed to have the keys."

"You're telling me that Miss Darla Anne Drake comes to a remote paper plant, in central Oregon, just to pick up two airplanes? Somehow I find that hard to believe," the receptionist said.

"That's correct, Miss . . .?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's Mrs. Mrs. Roberta Stolle."

"It's nice to meet you Roberta," I greeted, and continued. "Yes, our business here today is just to pick up two airplanes."

"But, Miss Drake, everyone knows that Mr. De Forest wants to retire and he's been looking for someone to take over, or buy the company. I couldn't interest you in slightly used, fifteen year old paper plant, could I, hmmm, maybe take a look around. After all, as long as you're in the neighborhood, what would it hurt?"

"Roberta, that's quite a sales pitch, and I'll keep it and you in mind. But for now, we would like to see Mr. Watson about the planes and maybe have some lunch. By the way, how's the food around here?"

"Oh, it's just great. I don't know how or where they found him, but we've got this chef that makes ordinary cafeteria food taste like you're eating at the Ritz Carlton," Roberta cheerfully informed us.

"Well, that's good to know. Now, Mr. Watson please, and I'd appreciate it if you don't tell anyone else we're here."

"Of course, I won't say a word and I'll get Mr. Watson for you right away," Roberta said, as she reached for her phone.

We waited ten minutes for Mr. Watson to arrive, and he had the keys with him. The five of us headed out to the hangar and pushed out the two planes. After making our way back into the plant and to Mr. Watson's office, we talked briefly about the status of the plant, the rumors of Greg's retirement, and the rumors of a buyout. Monday's memo, confirming the sale to Piermont, may not be as big of a surprise as we'd intended. Hopefully, the fact that there is a new owner will be a surprise, at least to the right people.

After reuniting Patrick with his wife and children, we went to the cafeteria for lunch. I was pleased to discover that the reported quality of the food was not exaggerated. The cafeteria dining room was pretty much standard, lots of tables of various sizes, lots of chairs, and padded booths around the outside.

I didn't care where we sat, so I let Patrick and Margaret lead the way. I assumed they would know best, concerning seating for their children. They found a large empty corner booth, which was large enough for all of us. I ended up sitting such that I wasn't readily visible to most of the current patrons. That arrangement was fine with me, as I was marginally trying to keep a low profile. We had just decided who would be flying what, when some slightly more vocal ladies sat in the booth behind us. I sat back and quietly listened.

"Margo, have you heard the latest?" one women asked, excitedly.

"No, what's brewing?" the voice I assumed to be Margo asked.

"Janice in personnel says that Mr. De Forest is retiring," the first voice said.

"That's nothing new. He's been talking about retiring for a few years," Margo replied.

"Well, according to Janice it might be soon," the first voice added.

"Susan, you know better than to believe what Janice says. She starts more than 50% of the rumors around here," a third voice stated. That made voice one another Susan. "Wasn't it Janice that started the rumor, a year ago, about the Johnson twins being homosexuals, just because neither one of them would date her cousin, Whilamina."

"Good heavens, Joan. I saw a picture of Whilamina once and I'm telling you, there isn't a sane man alive that would date Whilamina," a fourth voice stated. By the process of deduction, voice three must belong to Joan.

"What Janice said in the past doesn't mean anything, this time she's got proof," Susan declared.

"Yeah, what kind of proof?" Joan asked.

"According to Janice, Delores signed for the Fourth Shift Inspection job. Now, just what does it tell you, when the President's private secretary signs for a production job?" Susan asked.

"You know, there were all those outside people here, for the last three days." voice four added.

"That's true," Margo added. "Some of them were in accounting and some went over every piece of equipment in production."

"So what, they were doing an audit for an insurance company," Joan stated.

"That's what they said, but Franklin in accounting, told me they were digging deeper than any auditor he's ever seen," Susan added.

"Oh, there's Franklin now," Margo interrupted, calling him over.

"Hi Margo, Susan, Joan, Carla, what's the latest from the grape vine?" Franklin greeted.

"Franklin, would you tell them what you told me about the guys that were in accounting," Susan asked.

"Sure, let me grab a chair," Franklin replied. A moment and the squeak of a chair later he continued. "Okay, I know we were told that those guys were doing an audit for an insurance company. Well, I'm telling you that was a crock of bull pucky."

"Oh, Franklin," Carla interrupted. "Cows do it to, but they don't brag about it."

"And they don't put it in crocks," Joan added.

There was some giggling and then Franklin continued, "Sorry about that. Anyway, the so called auditors dug through files going back ten years, which, for an insurance audit is crazy. They were also calling every supplier with a balance due of more than $500. They also calling some of our customers and asking all kinds of questions. I mean, really strange questions. Believe me, they had nothing to do with an insurance audit. Oh, one more thing, I recognized one of the men."

"Really, who was he? Carla asked.

"Well, I recognized him, but I couldn't put a name with the face, or remember where I knew him from, until this morning."

"What happened this morning that made you remember?" Joan asked.

"It was one of those times where you're racking your brain, trying to remember something, but it just won't come. Then, when you're doing something completely different and suddenly, the forgotten memory jumps out of your subconscious and screams, here I am, remember me. So, this morning I was washing Allison's hair and it came to me."

"Oooooooohh hoooooo," Joan teased.

"Relax Joan, Allison is his wife," Carla said.

"I know that, but from the way he's blushing, he was washing her hair while they were in the shower together," Joan declared.

"Big deal, I shower with Jimmy all the time. It's a great way to save water," Susan said.

"You're with Jimmy now?" Margo asked.

"Forget about Jimmy and Allison and showering together to save water, who was the guy?" Carla demanded.

"Oh, yeah, his name is Bill something. Where I saw him before was at my last job. He was going through the books at High Plains paper, just before High Plains was bought by that young girl, umm . . . Oh, I forget her name, but everyone calls her DD."

"You mean Darla Anne Drake?" Joan asked.

"That's her. How did you know it was her?" Franklin asked.

"Well duh, the copies of Paper Press that are left around in here aren't for decoration. You guys should try reading them some time," Joan explained.

"Okay, so I'm illiterate," Franklin complained. "I just hope they aren't buying this place. It took me four months to find this job after being laid off, when they bought High Plains paper."

"You mean they laid everyone off?" Susan asked.

"What?" Franklin asked. Then he explained himself, "No, no, almost everyone that was there, is still there all the production people; maintenance; most of management; almost everyone that had to do with putting paper out the door. The people they let go were mostly front office staff, accountants, sales, purchasing, people like that. Some of them moved into openings in production, but some of us just had to look elsewhere."

"Franklin, did you know that Delores just signed for the Fourth Shift Inspection job?" Susan asked.

"Really? I hadn't heard that. If you ladies will excuse me, I'm going to personnel and see what production openings they might have. I don't want to start looking again, Allison and I like it here." There was a screech of a chair as Franklin got up to leave.

"Well, what do you think now?" Susan asked.

"I think it's time to get back to work," Carla said.

"Oh, you're right, we've got eight minutes to be back on the line," Joan said, as they shuffled out of the booth.

"I know it's considered impolite to eavesdrop, but that was an interesting conversation," I admitted.

"It was indeed," Bob echoed.

"Well, do you want to know what I think?" Susan asked.

"What would that be?" I knew I was opening myself up for almost anything, but I asked anyway.

"I think we need to get you out of here, before anyone else recognizes you. As it is, I think any hope of your secret still being a secret after tomorrow afternoon, ranks right up there with a one way ticket to Neverland," Susan proclaimed, with a smile.

Smiling, Bob admitted, "I think Susan is right, with both predictions. There's an outside door at the other end of this row of booths. Why don't you, Captain O'Toole and his family take that door and head back for the planes. Susan and I will take care of returning the dishes to the kitchen, and then we'll catch up."

"Sounds like a good plan, Bob. We'll see you back at the planes," I agreed.

We made good our escape without being recognized, as far as we knew. The flight back to Portland was uneventful, although a little slower. The Cessna 206, being the slowest of the three, set the pace and altitude. Fortunately the cruising speed of the 206 was well above the stall speed of the G1.

I'm sure that our formation was amusing to anyone who saw us. Bob was in the lead, flying the 206. I was following Bob, maintaining a reasonable distance, in the slightly larger Piper Navajo. Lastly, Captain O'Toole was bring up the rear, in the G1. The formation reminded me of the food chain, little fish are eaten by a bigger fish, who are eaten by an even bigger fish.

This was the battle Piermont was currently facing; gobbling up the smaller companies while trying to not be gobbled up by the big company. Either way you look at it, I was right smack in the middle, hunting what's in front of me while making sure someone doesn't take a big bite out of my tail, at the same time.

As we left the airport, there was quite the line up in front of the Ameri-Moore hangar, the G1, the King Air, the Navajo, and the 206. We said farewell to Captain O'Toole and his family and then headed back to my hotel room to await Rick Landis.

"Good afternoon, Rick," I greeted, as I opened the door.

"Hello DD, I'm glad you invited me" Rick replied, as he shook my extended hand. Looking past me, he added "And Susan is here too. You've both grown so much since I saw you last."

"That was five years ago, Rick," Susan added, as she stood up to greet Rick.

"And this is?" Rick asked, indicating towards Bob, after shaking hands with Susan.

"This is Robert Warren, Executive Vice President, for Piermont Paper Products," I replied, formally introducing the two.

"Wow, both the big guns. I'm honored sir," Rick said, as he shook Bob's hand.

"Mr. Landis. DD tells me you're an honest journalist. I'm not sure, but isn't that a contradiction in terms?" Bob sarcastically replied.

"That may be the case with some journalists, Mr. Warren. Lord knows, there are enough unscrupulous journalists out there. Unfortunately, they give the rest of us a bad name. But, aren't there some equally unscrupulous businessmen in the paper industry, Mr. Warren? Should we assume from that, that everyone in the paper business is unscrupulous?" Rick countered.

Bob chuckled before replying, "Point made Mr. Landis. Please, call me Bob."

"As long as you call me Rick. Well, now that we've had today's fencing lesson, what's with all the cloak and dagger?" Rick asked.

"Cloak and dagger?" Susan asked.

"What else would you call it?" Rick asked. "Secret meetings and cryptic messages, seductive phone calls?"

"Seductive phone calls?" Susan asked.

I answered by telling Susan and Bob about our phone call, a week ago. Susan thought my seductive voice wasn't very seductive. She said I sounded like Natasha, as in Boris and Natasha, from the Bullwinkle cartoons. Leave it to a sister, to tease a sister.

Once we all sat down, we got down to business. Rick was aware of some of the information we presented. However, most of what we passed on took him completely by surprise. Rick took very careful notes and agreed to research all of the information we'd presented.

Just before I opened the door for Rick to leave, I reminded him, "Remember Rick, before you print anything, you have to give a copy of the final draft to the legal department at Ameri-Moore. If you print the story without their approval you're going to be liable for any complaints we receive and possibly legal action from Ameri-Moore. Any problem with that?"

"No, no problem at all, DD. It will take me two to three days to run down these leads and then do some additional background research. I should have the story ready for the lawyers next Friday or the following Monday."

"That will be just fine, Rick. I look forward to seeing what you do with this. Goodbye for now."

"So long everyone. It's been interesting," Rick said with a wave, as he walked through the door.

After Rick left, I sat next to Susan to contemplate our next move, when Susan asked, "Do you two really think that an article in a magazine is going to stop Bobby De Forest from blowing his gourd and going ape?"

I looked at my sister, with a smile. "Not at all, sis. We are quite certain that Bobby will, as you so colorfully put it, blow his gourd."

"However, by publicly announcing what we did last week, and why, we hope to protect our plants and people from direct retaliation," Bob continued.

"At least any direct retaliation from Alliance. I suppose someone else could seize the opportunity and make a move against us," I added.

"After Vermont's arson investigation team makes their announcement on Monday, about the fire in Brandon, any action or incidents involving our plants or personnel would look extremely suspicious," Bob concluded.

"I suppose you two know what you're doing. At least, after we're finished looking at plants on Monday, I won't be considered a possible target," Susan declared.

"Oh, and do you consider yourself a target right now?" I asked, while stealthily reaching for a pillow.

"Well, not at this exact moment, but where I've been with you, all this week, some might consider me a target," Susan replied.

"Wrong answer," I said, as I let the pillow fly.

"Why you . . ." Susan exclaimed, while making a grab for a pillow.

"I think this is my cue to leave, Bob said, as he headed for the door.

"COWARD," both Susan and I chorused.

Bob neatly dogged two pillows as he reached the door. "Dinner at seven?" he said, while hiding behind the door.

"Right," I said, as a pillow caught me square in the face.

"Score one," Susan exclaimed, as the door clicked shut.

You'll pay for that," I exclaimed.

The pillow fight lasted about fifteen minutes. In the end we were both sitting on the floor, exhausted and laughing wildly.

Sunday, July 16, 1972

Sunday morning it was back down to the Hills Creek plant. That's what Bob and I decided to call the remote De Forest paper plant, being that the river was the closest landmark to the plant.

Gregg's King Air had been moved and was sitting next to the living quarters, we assumed for easier loading. Not wanting to disturb anyone who might be sleeping, we stopped on the apron in front of the hangar. Bob walked over to the plant while Susan and I stayed with plane. We figured we were pushing our luck at trying to keep the secret that Piermont had bought out De Forest Paper, especially with several confirmed sightings of "DD" in their plant.

Fifteen minutes later, we saw a jeep come around the end of the buildings, heading for the hangar and us. The jeep swung around and backed up to the nose of the King Air.

The driver got out and greeted us formally. "Good morning Miss Drake, and good morning to you too," he indicated Susan, with the latter greeting. Then he proceeded to attach a pipe with a special adapter to the nose wheel of the plane.

"Would one of you hold the end tow bar while I finish backing in?" he asked. Susan held the bar as he backed up.

After everything was hooked up, he asked, "Would you like to ride up to the plant in the jeep?"

We accepted his offer. Susan climbed into the back and I sat up front. Once we were moving, I asked, "Excuse me, but who are you and how do you know me?"

"I'm sorry. The name's Walter, ma'am, Walter Carver. I'm one of the third shift engineers. I read most of the paper and logging trade publications and your picture has been in quite a few."

"It's nice to meet you Walter. You're right about the trade publications, you'd think they'd find something more interesting to write about. Tell me, which shift is currently working," I asked.

"First shift is on now, second shift will take their place tonight at six. While you might not think so, most of us engineers, find your adventures in the paper business quite interesting," Walter replied.

“Yes, well don’t believe everything you read. Those reporters do seem to have a flair for embellishing the truth,” I stated.

“That may be Miss Drake, but they do make for some interesting reading. Any chance you could confirm or deny the rumors that have been going around the plant?” Walter asked.

“Just what rumor would that be?” I asked in return.

“There are several rumors going around, most of them seem to indicate that you’ve purchased the plant,” Walter clarified.

“Looks like the cats out of the bag sis,” Susan leaned forward and whispered in my ear.

“A rumor is not an admission of fact, Suz,” I clearly stated.

“Suz? Oh, you must be Miss Drake’s sister Susan. It’s nice to meet you,” Walter said, as we pulled to a stop. “You are right Miss Drake, a rumor isn’t fact. Would you like to add any facts to the rumors?”

“Not at this time Walter, not at this time,” I replied, as I climbed out of the jeep.

“Oh well, I guess we’ll just have to let the rumor mill keep chugging along. Although, you being here today will add spice to the rumor mill,” Walter admitted as he unhooked the tow bar. “Nice to meet you Miss Drake, you to Miss Susan. You both have a nice day.” With that Walter climbed back into the jeep and headed back the way he came.

“I told you sis. There is no way you can keep secret the fact that ‘DD’ bought an Eighty Million dollar company for Fifteen Million. It just can’t be done,” Susan exclaimed, after Walter was out of earshot.

“We don’t have to keep it a secret for much longer. We were just trying to give Greg and his wife time to get away before Bobby’s spies hear about it.”

“You think Bobby has spies working here, to keep tabs on his brother?”

“I wouldn’t doubt it for a second, Suz. Not for a second.”

“Wow. It’s a good thing that we all work for Grandma.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, we all work in different divisions so there’s no competition between us. All we’re trying to do is make Grandma proud of us.”

“You’re right there, none of us would do anything to make Grandma ashamed of us,” I concluded.

Shortly after Susan and I had finished our discussion, several people came out of the building carrying boxes, and boxes, and more boxes. Not wanting my face to be on public display, I did a little disappearing act by pulling the curtain that separated the cockpit and the cabin, and slipped into the pilots seat. Susan joined me and we left the loading and balancing of the two planes to Bob and Greg.

The rest of the trip was fairly uneventful. Mrs. De Forest had packed more than could be carried in the two King Airs'. It was mutually decided that Bob and Greg would make a second trip, in what was now Piermont's King Air. While they were gone Susan and I got better acquainted with Mrs. De Forest as we helped her start the unpacking process. When the boys got back, (boys? Bob is almost three times my age and Greg is at least four times) we fired up both King Airs' and headed for Portland.

* * * To Be Continued * * *

Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]

Chapter 7

By Penny Reed Cardon

This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.

It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.

Chapter Seven

Monday, July 17, 1972

Monday morning snuck up on me while I wasn’t looking. It was time for this Texas filly to get back in the saddle. Although, most saddles don’t come with seat belts, and most things you put a saddle on don’t have twin turbo-prop engines, but for another day mine did. I would have preferred to be saddling Emily and going for a nice ride, than going to war with Alliance, but we don't always get what we want. I knew that my time to relax at the ranch would have to wait for a little longer.

After a quick breakfast, Bob took off in the G1 with the two inspection teams. Covering five sites, with two teams, should be easy after the pace we set the week before. I gave Bob an hour to get Jerry and his team to their first site, before I took off with John, Bill and Susan.

Just before leaving my third inspection site, I called the office, in Jefferson City, to check in with Nancy. It seems there was one more plant added to today’s schedule, for a total of six plants. Still an easy task with two inspections teams. The surprising news was, that there were five plant owners in Canada that wanted to talk with me. Nancy didn’t know what to tell them, and was eagerly anticipating my call. I instructed Nancy to tell them that I’d be in contact with them by the end of the week.

By the end of the day, we had acquired two plants and were in partnership with four additional companies.

Tuesday was a travel day and there were still a lot of people to get home. Apparently, there had been quite a bit of juggling of the members of the inspection teams, for Monday. Jerry’s team had been a mix of personnel from across the country. For Monday, his team had two of his accountants and two of his engineers. Bob’s team, like Jerry’s, had been mixed, but for Monday’s inspections, it was made up of people from the Mid-West region, exclusively. So, with a lot of empty seats, we had two planes heading home.

Bob was first to lift off, he would stop in South Dakota for fuel, then head to Owosso to drop off his passengers. He would then head down to Jefferson City. I lifted off right after the G1 this time, I had Bill and John with me. Our route was from Portland to Salt Lake City to refuel and then on to Jefferson City. John was still thinking about his situation and thought a few days in JC, to look around, would add some much needed information or confusion, he wasn’t sure which.

Wednesday, July 19, 1972

The next morning, as I was greeting Nancy, she handed me two urgent phone messages.

"A Mr. Watson called for you three times yesterday. He says it is urgent that you call him as soon as you can. He left the number for the plant, with the extensions for his office and apartment. I don't understand, Miss Drake, does he live at the plant?"

"Yes Nancy. That’s the plant we talked about last Friday, that is so remote that they have an entire living complex for employees and their families."

"Families?"

"Yes, families," I replied, with a smile. "Now then, the other messages?"

"Oh yes, I'm sorry. A Mr. De Forest called, he also said that he needed to speak with you, urgently."

"Which Mr. De Forest?"

"This was Gregory De Forest. How many De Forests are there?"

"There are five that I know of. Anything else?"

"No ma'am, no more urgent messages. There is the usual assortment of other messages, they’re on your desk."

"Very good. Thank you Nancy."

As I crossed the convention center, that I called my office, and noted that things were slowly getting back to normal. There were several folders on my desk, along with a dozen phone messages. After fixing myself a cup of tea I dove in. Being that JC is two hours ahead of Oregon, I thought I'd give the folks out west time to wake up before I called. As was my usual routine, I started with the employee forms, then the phone messages, and lastly the plants offered for sale. There were only two offers in the folder, which was pleasantly surprising. I figured that after word got out about what we did last week the number of offers would skyrocket.

It was still only seven AM in Oregon, but I had Nancy place the call to Dave Watson.

It was only a few moments before my phone rang. "Yes Nancy?"

"I have Mr. Watson for you, Miss Drake."

"Thank you, Nancy."

"Good morning Dave," I said, after I heard the connection go through.

"Good morning Miss Drake."

"I take it from the urgency of your calls, you've had a visitor?" I asked, before Dave had a chance to tell me why he'd called so urgently.

"Yes we did, but how did you know?"

"We sort of expected Robert De Forest to make an appearance, didn't we? That's why Greg wanted everything finalized before any rumors could be leaked."

"Yes, I guess we did expect Robert to make an appearance. I just didn't expect him to be louder than his airplane. He did make a lot of threats, which is why I called."

"Really, Dave. What did he say?"

"Well, when I heard his plane, yesterday, I headed for reception. I actually met him outside, hoping to just turn him around. First he demanded to see his brother. I tried to explain that Mr. And Mrs. De Forest were no longer living at the plant, and that they had moved to their island the previous Sunday. Then he said I was a damn liar, he knew they weren't at the island because Greg’s plane wasn't there. I tried to explain that the planes were assets of the company and that the new owner had already taken possession of them."

"I'll bet he didn't like hearing that."

"No ma'am, he surely didn't. He kept yelling that the company couldn't have been sold and where was his brother. He wouldn't listen to anything I said. He just pushed his way past me and headed for the plant and Mr. De Forest's office."

"What did he do once he knew Gregory wasn't there?"

"He kept demanding to know where his brother was. Again, I told him that Mr. Gregory had sold the company and moved to his island. It took a while but he eventually asked who bought the company. I hesitated a few moments before I told him that it was Piermont Paper. That really set him off. He screamed at me that Gregory would never sell to that little bitch. Oh, excuse me ma'am, those were his words, not mine."

"I understand completely. Please continue, what else did he say?"

"Well, he screamed a lot of profanity when referring to you and Piermont Paper. He said that there was no way the sale of the company could be final and he'd make sure it wouldn't be. Before he left, he ordered me to shut the plant down and that everyone was laid off until he said otherwise."

"Answer a question for me, Dave. Who do you work for?"

Even over the phone I could hear Dave's attitude pick up as he answered, "I work for Piermont Paper and Miss Darla Anne Drake."

Smiling I replied, "That's correct. In the business world it's always important to know who you work for and who your boss is. Can I assume you did not shut the plant down?"

"No ma'am, I did not. There is one other thing that worries me though. Robert De Forest said he would have his people here by the end of the week to take control of the plant."

"Did he now? Well, we'll just have to get some Piermont security on site before then. Can you arrange accommodations for, let’s say, between twelve to sixteen new people?"

"It may be a bit tight, but we'll make it happen, Miss Drake."

"You're a good man Dave. Keep the paper moving and we'll take care of everything else."

"Yes ma'am, we'll keep everything running. I can see that Mr. Gregory was right about you, you do care about your people."

"We try, Dave. We do try. You be sure to let Bob Warren or myself know if you have any more problems with Robert."

"I most certainly will, Miss Drake.”

"Goodbye Dave."

“Goodbye Miss Drake."

After Dave hung up, I asked Nancy to have Bob Warren and Ben Phillips step into my office.

It was several minutes before hearing a knock on my door, "Come in!" I called out.

"Good morning Ben," I said, as Ben entered.

"Good morning DD," Ben replied. Leaving the door open, he started the journey across my office. "Bob is just behind me. This sounds serous."

"Good morning Boss," Bob said, as he entered and closed the door.

"Morning Bob. Yes, Ben, very serious," I replied.

Once they were seated I began, "I know you have an appointment with me this afternoon Ben, which we'll keep, this is a different matter. I just got off the phone with Dave Watson, at the Hills Creek plant. He had an unwelcome visitor yesterday, who made numerous threats, several indicating he's planning an illegal occupation, commencing Friday."

"Robert?" Bob asked.

I nodded in reply, and then Bob continued, "We expected him to fly down as soon as he heard about the sale of the company. What sort of threats was he making?"

"There were quite a few, there's only one that I'm concerned about. He told Dave that he'd have his people there by the end of the week, to take control of the plant," I replied.

"That's Robert De Forest you're talking about?" Ben inquired.

"That's correct," Bob answered.

"You don't think he'd try to take over the plant by force, do you?" Ben asked.

"I don't intend on finding out," I replied. "That's why you're here, Ben. I need you to get with Jerry DeLuca and make arrangements for a force of sixteen armed guards to be at the Hills Creek plant by noon tomorrow, Jerry has the plant detail."

"Sixteen?" Bob asked.

"Four per shift," I replied.

"Noon tomorrow?" Ben exclaimed.

"Do you think four per shift is enough?" Bob inquired.

"Yes, Ben, noon tomorrow. I think four per shift should be satisfactory, if needed, those that are working the opposite schedule can be called for assistance," I thought aloud.

"Wait a second, sixteen armed guards, four per shift, opposite schedule, what are you two talking about?" Ben asked, with a sound of frustration in his voice.

Bob and I quickly explained to Ben the uniqueness of the Hills Creek plant, and why we felt it was urgent that Piermont security be on site as soon as humanely possible.

After our explanation, Ben agreed that the matter was urgent and excused himself, so he could get the ball rolling.

Bob stayed, and asked, "What about the plants at Glide, and Walden, Oregon? Do you think Robert will go after them?"

"I'm going to leave those two plants in your hands, Bob. As organized as you are, I'm sure you have phone numbers for both plants. Give them a call and speak with the chief of security at each plant. Inform them of the situation and if they feel the need for additional security guards, they're authorized to hire as many as they need."

"As many as they need? That's a pretty vague statement."

Thinking for a moment, I added, "Perhaps, but as the plant chief of security, I expect them to act responsible. Where Hills Creek is a unique situation, Glide and Walden have population centers nearby. So, availability of security personnel, as well as possible threats, could both be higher. At those two plants, I wouldn't expect to see a security staff of more than twelve to fifteen, but if the security chiefs feels they need more than that, right now, that's okay. Just let them know that they'll be expected to justify their actions at a later date."

"That makes sense for now. I'll get in touch with them and explain the situation and urgency," Bob agreed, then got up and left.

Later that afternoon, Ben and I were discussing the progress he'd made in staffing our headquarters operations, along with the progress he made in getting our own security people at the Hills Creek plant. Out of nowhere came a roar and a thunder, like the screaming sounds of a big war bird, rudely shattering the peaceful laziness of the fields that surround our office building. We looked outside as the roar of engines faded, only for them to return once more. As the disturbance, once again, came past my office windows, I immediately recognized what was causing such commotion on a quiet afternoon. It had been accurately described to me, five days earlier.

Looking at Ben, I smiled and said, "It looks like we'll be receiving visitors very soon, I would imagine rather angry visitors. Would you care to stay for the circus?"

Ben had a look of surprise, "You’re expecting someone?"

"I was expecting an angry phone call, but I guess he's more upset than I thought he'd be." I explained, as I reached for the phone.

"Hello Bob, DD. Did you see the plane?"

"I most certainly did. Do you think it's who I think it is?"

"I'm sure of it. I'm not sure which subject he wants to discuss, but I'm sure he's agitated. Would you like to come over?"

"I wouldn't miss it. Should I bring anyone with me?"

"Ben is in my office currently, he's staying. You might want to bring Bill along, in case we need some numbers."

"I agree. We'll see you in about ten minutes."

I ended the call with Bob and dialed again.

"Good afternoon, Piermont Paper Products, how may I direct your call?" a young lady answered, who's voice I recognized.

"Melissa, this is Miss Drake."

"Yes Miss Drake, what can I do for you?"

"In about ten to fifteen minutes you're going to have a very angry gentleman come in, demanding to see me. I know who it is, but to be on the safe side I think you should call security and have two of their, rather large, gentlemen standing by. I'd also like them to accompany our guest to my office."

"I understand completely, Miss Drake. I'll call security right now and I'll call you when your angry guest arrives."

Hanging up the phone, I turned back to Ben. "Now all we have to do is wait for the show. While we wait, back to business. You were saying you coaxed some more temporaries from Brandon?"

"Indeed. You did say 'whatever it takes' and what it took was setting up shipping as a separate department. You remember Mark Johnson; he was the only one that wanted to transfer from Brandon. I've set him up as the department supervisor. With the promise of a managerial promotion, I talked five of the folks that used to handle the shipping arrangements to come down as regional managers."

"Regional managers?"

"Yes, one manager for each of our five regions, Northeast, Southeast, Mid-West, Northwest, and Southwest. They arrived last Thursday. We've set up the shipping department, in part of the unused space on the second floor. Then we hired forty new people. Some of them were rehires, from the MoPaper shipping department. A few were general accounts, with only a few years’ experience. The rest of them are fresh out of the local community college. I hated having to throw them in green like that, but there weren't many other options."

"So we've got forty new people, being trained, by the six we had. No chance of getting anymore from Brandon?"

"I had Matt talk with them. More of them indicated they would come down for three months, to train all the new people, if we paid them double time for the entire three months."

"I hope you told them they just weren't that indispensable."

"Well, I told Matt they were out of their minds. I'm not exactly sure what Matt passed on, but knowing Matt as we do, I'm sure he was a bit more colorful."

There was a knock on my office door. "Come in." I called out, before answering Ben; "Yes indeed, we know that Matt can use some colorful language when he feels it’s appropriate."

"Are we interrupting something?" Bob asked, as he and Bill entered, joining Ben and I in my casual area.

"Not at all," I replied. "We were just discussing the unreasonable request by some former employees and how tactfully Matt would have answered their request, for three months of double time."

"Oh my, they should have sold tickets for that show," Bill commented, with a chuckle.

Other comments were held as the phone rang.

I picked up the handset, "Hello."

"Miss Drake, this is Melissa, in reception. The gentleman you described is here. He has three young gentlemen with him."

"I'll bet I know who they are. Are the two gentlemen from security standing by?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Very well. Have security escort our four guests up. Then call security and have two additional men sent up. All four of them are to wait in my outer office. I don't know if they'll be needed, but I'd like them close by."

"Very good, ma'am. I'll send them right up."

"Our guests have arrived," I said, as I hung up. "It seems there are four, not just one. Let's see, to give the proper presentation I suppose I should be at my desk. Ben would you move a couple more chairs over from the conference table. Where the three of you sit is up to you."

I moved to my desk chair, sitting back and smoothing out my skirt. I then gently rested my hands on the arms of the overstuffed, executive, desk chair. Bill and Ben moved one chair each, from the conference table, placing them in front of my desk. Then Bob and Bill took a standing position behind and to either side of me, as they had done many months ago in a meeting with South Core. Ben not knowing exactly what was going on, decided to stand with his colleagues, just to Bill's right.

Suddenly the door burst open as a very angry man rushed into the office, screaming, "JUST WHAT THE IN THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, STEALING MY COMPANY? YOU CONNIVING LITTLE BITCH!" By the time he was finished screaming, he had crossed the office and was standing less than a foot from my desk, with his fists on his hips, in a typically Superman stance.

"I'm sorry Miss Drake, he got away from us in the executive suites’ lobby," Mr. Fisher apologized.

Mr. Fisher was followed by Mr. O'Reilly and the three other gentlemen.

"That's quiet all right, Mr. Fisher. Would you and Mr. O'Reilly wait in the outer office please?"

"Yes ma'am, it'll be a pleasure. Just yell if you need us."

I heard the door close, and asked "Gentlemen, would you please be seated?" The three younger gentlemen moved to the chairs, but with the older gentleman not moving, decided to stay standing.

From the moment he burst through the door, I hadn't broken eye contact. If he thought I was in anyway intimidated by his stance and evil glare, he was sadly mistaken.

"Well, well, Mr. Robert De Forest. Welcome to Jefferson City. May I assume that these young men are your nephews?"

Bobby remained silent and standing. Eventually I asked, "Won't you please be seated so we can discuss things in a civilized manor?"

When Robert still didn't move, I leaned my head towards Bob slightly, but without breaking eye contact with Robert, "Mr. Warren, I don't remember ordering a statue to adorn my office."

The three young men chuckled briefly.

"Very well, Robert, you may remain standing if that is your wish, it won't change anything. Let's see, oh yes, you made an outlandish accusation, inferring that I took possession of something that didn't belong to me. I consider your accusation slanderous, as I've never stolen anything in my life. Having made that point quite clear, to what company are you referring?" The ball was now in his court.

It was a solid five minutes before Bobby spoke or moved. "YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHAT COMPANY I'M TALKING ABOUT. DE FOREST PAPER, YOU DUMB BITCH!"

"Very good, now we're getting somewhere. If I'm guilty of any wrong doing, and as you claim, I've stolen De Forest Paper. Just who did I steal it from?" I asked.

"FROM ME AND MY NEPHEWS, YOU STUPID BITCH!" Bobby venomously cried out.

"I see, I stole De Forest Paper from you and your nephews. May I ask, which of your names was listed on the titles for the real property, or on the business license, issued by the state of Oregon?" I calmly asked.

"THEY WERE IN HIS WILL! THEY'D HAVE GOTTEN IT ALL, WHEN GREG DIED!" Bobby yelled.

"Oh, they are in their father's will, and you've come to see that their father's will is executed properly, on their behalf of course. It's customary for a lawyer to execute the will of the deceased. I must say, I'm sorry to hear of Gregory De Forests' sudden demise? My condolences, he was an extraordinary gentleman. I'm shocked to hear of his passing. He was very much alive when we flew both him and his lovely wife to their island, last Sunday. They were both looking forward to a quiet retirement."

"NO! HE'S NOT DEAD, you dumb bitch!" Robert cried out.

Continuing to ignore his references to a female dog, I calmly continued, "Gregory has not passed away, that is good to know. So, let me see if I understand correctly, you're not here to execute Gregory's will, obviously, because he is still alive. Yet you are accusing me of stealing from your nephews, something that was not theirs. So, please tell me," I started, as I stood up, pushing my chair back and having my three VP's step forward so the four of us were standing side by side. "Why are you here?"

Robert looked a little nervous, but was still very vocal, "To stop you from consummating the deal with my brother, so my nephews can inherit what is rightfully theirs."

Finally breaking eye contact with Robert, I looked towards the three young men as I spoke with some emphasis "Gentlemen, you can have whatever you want in this life, by setting some goals, and working towards them, not by clinging onto someone else's coat tails. Because, not one of you showed enough interest in working with your father to build a better future, the three paper plants, the warehouse in Eugene, and all the other assets of De Forest Paper, are now part of Piermont Paper Products."

"WE’LL SUE! WE’LL TAKE YOU TO COURT! WE’LL TIE YOU UP IN SO MUCH LEGAL RED TAPE THAT IT WILL BE YEARS BEFORE YOU'LL BE ABLE CLOSE THE DEAL AND ASSUME CONTROL!" Robert sputtered.

While Robert was yelling, I calmly sat back down.

"Excuse me, Mr. De Forest," Bob couldn't help but jump in. "The deeds have been signed, the transfer of title for all assets have been recorded in the appropriate county recorders offices, and the Fifteen-Million-dollar cashier’s check has been signed and delivered.”

“FIFTEEN MILLION, ONLY FIFTEEN MILLION? THAT COMPANY WAS WORTH MORE THAN EIGHTY MILLION!”

After Bobby stopped yelling, I calmly replied, “Fifteen Million was the amount that Gregory requested. He did say, that if anyone else had wanted to purchase the company, he would have asked for Forty Million. If my memory is correct, Gregory said, that there was a standing offer from Alliance Paper, for the purchase of De Forest Paper, to the tune of Six Million dollars. Now, I have to ask myself, who would be considered the bigger thief?”

"YOU WON'T GET AWAY WITH THIS. I'LL HAVE MY BROTHER DECLARED INCOMPETENT AND THE SALE OF THE COMPANY REVOKED!"

"I'm sure Gregory and everyone who worked for him, would fight against any such declaration," I calmly replied.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS, YOU CONNIVING LITTLE BITCH! IF IT TAKES FOREVER, I'LL GET YOU!" Robert screamed, his face turned red as he waved his arm wildly, then he turned and headed for the door.

"Mr. De Forest, please stay for a few minutes, we have another matter of business that needs to be discussed," Bill called out.

Robert stopped just short of the door, turned and look back, "WHAT?"

I softly asked, "Bill, now?"

"Why not now?" Bill replied, with a little smile.

Bob echoed Bill's sentiment, with a smile of his own, "Yeah, why not now?"

"WELL?" Robert screamed, obviously more than ready to be gone.

"You're right, why not,” I ultimately agreed. “Robert, I'm sure you are aware that when your father passed away, Gregory being the eldest, inherited not only the paper plants in Oregon, but also an estate in Spokane, Washington."

"Yeah, Greg said I could live there, so what?"

"What you may not know is that some time ago, for tax reasons, Gregory incorporated the De Forest Estate within De Forest Paper."

"Are you saying - no - he didn't - he couldn't - not -you don't mean?"

Bob interrupted Robert's ramblings, "A change of title for the estate has been recorded and is now on file."

"Are you telling me I have to abandon my family’s home?" Robert cried out.

Calmly I continued, "That isn't what we’re saying at all. Piermont has no need for, or desire to keep and maintain, an estate in Spokane. We will therefore be looking at liquidating the property in the near future. With you being the current occupant we will naturally give you first right of refusal."

"Right of refusal? ARE YOU TELLING ME I HAVE TO BUY BACK MY FAMILY’S ESTATE? I'm going to KILL that brother of mine when I get my hands on him. HOW MUCH?"

"The appraised value is $650,000." Bill quoted from memory.

Then I started to explain, "If we were to sell that on the open market we'd be asking $725,000. However, being that you're such a kind hearted fellow, who prides himself on being honest in all his business dealings and is kind towards his fellow man; we'll let you have it for-"

Robert snidely interrupted me, "AN EVEN MILLION - RIGHT?"

I waited a moment before I replied, "I have no doubt that if our roles were reversed, and you had acquired my family's home, you would take great pleasure in trying to extort an extravagantly over inflated sum. However, it pleases me no end, knowing that we are nothing alike. I was going to say that we'd sell you the estate for the bargain price of $500,000."

"$500,000 for an estate that was paid off and debt free decades ago. You're out if your #@%&*%# mind," Robert exploded once again.

"There is the option of renting the property for say – two thousand dollars a month, at least until we find another buyer. We really aren't interested in becoming a landlord," Bill added.

"Me, pay rent to you? You're as crazy as that stupid bitch you work for. I'm not paying you one red cent. The place is mine and we're staying right where we are!"

I leaned over and touched the button for the intercom to my outer office, "You may come in now, Mr. Fisher. Our guests are ready to leave."

The three young men were surprised when four, rather large, security guards entered.

"We'll give you a month to consider our offer, Mr. De Forest," Bob stated. “After that time we will put the estate up for sale."

"Don't forget, rent is due on the first of the month," Bill added, as the four De Forests were escorted out.

Ben went around and sat in one of the four chairs that currently faced my desk, sighed and asked, "Gee, I think I've been missing out. Do you three always have so much fun?"

"Not always," I replied, with a giggle.

"Today was better than most," Bob added, with a grin, as he also sat down.

"From his attitude, I'd say we haven't seen the last of Robert De Forest," Ben said.

"From the sound of it, I'd say we're going to have our hands full dealing with him," Bill said, after he also took a seat.

"I'm sure you're correct, and we haven’t seen his reaction to the upcoming article in Log Views, about our activities last week. I’m sure once everything comes to light, we’ll have the pleasure of another visit from Mr. De Forest. Until then, I think we've had our excitement for today, so let's get back to some boring business. Being that you're all here, how are the plans shaping up for next week?"

"I'll have everything finalized before I leave tonight," Bob started. "John and I will be taking the G1 to Brandon tonight. I'll spend two days with my family, before flying to Asheville, Saturday evening. Sunday morning, Ron and some of his people will fill the back of our G1 and we'll head for Portland. I've arranged to charter the G1 from Ruthland Air and they'll be leaving Brandon Sunday morning as well, with half of the seats filled. They'll stop in Owosso to pick up some of Gerard's people, before continuing on to Portland. We chartered the plane with the pilots this time and they'll be returning to Ruthland Monday morning."

"That will give us thirty-three management personnel, for the ten operating plants. That’s a little thin, isn't it?" I asked.

"That's just the first load. The Ruthland G1 will be making a second trip on Thursday, with another full load of management, bringing the total up to fifty-two," Bob elaborated.

"That takes care of management, what are the plans for accounting?" I inquired.

"Bob will have his hands full getting his management people moved and settled, for the first two weeks. So we won't do anything with accounting until those people are in place," Bill explained. "Two weeks from Sunday, Bob will come back for another plane load. Fourteen accountants will fill the back and I'll sit up front, with Bob. We'll put three accountants, in four plants, for a month, to train the current staff and evaluate their performance. Then we'll move them to the next four and so on."

"Why the two-week delay, is it for the lack of aircraft, or the lack of pilots?" I asked.

"Well, I'd have to say both," Bob replied.

"There's only the one G1 and you and Bob are the only one's licensed to fly her," Bill added.

"As I mentioned before, the small planes are great for hopping around within a region, but they're not as good for flying cross country," Bob added.

"I see. Well, that just goes towards substantiating the decision I announced last Friday. All of Piermont's VP's need their pilot’s license," I stated.

"All VP's?" Ben asked, with a smile.

"Well, I'm not so sure about Matt. I guess we'll leave that up to him. So let’s say, most of our VP's will be learning to fly both single and multi-engine aircraft. Bob, how many do you think that Constellation of Bobby's, would seat?"

"You want Bobby's airplane?" Bill asked, with an amused chuckle.

"Not necessarily that exact one, I was just thinking about that style of aircraft. I don't know how much more difficulty there would be in handling four engines, versus two," I replied. "Anyway, if a lack of transportation is becoming a problem, I should think about additional transportation."

"It's only a problem when we acquire so many new plants at one time. The rest of the time, the planes we have are quite sufficient," Bob stated.

"I still think another larger plane is something to consider, if the right deal comes along. Of course, there will be John's plane, once he decides on one. So, how are we handling the accountants we'll need for the partnership plants?"

"We got lucky there," Bill started. "We had Matt talk with the general accountants we furloughed in Brandon, not those involved with shipping. For a one-year commitment, and just a little more money we got thirteen accountants that are willing to take on that challenge."

"That is good news. When will they be going out west?" I asked.

"In three weeks, maybe a few days sooner," Ben said.

"That date is special because?" I asked.

"Because, I can't be in two places at once," Bill replied, with a smile. "Once we've got the training accountants working in the first four plants, I'll have the time to work with the accountants in the partnership plants. We're assuming that each one will have a different accounting system, that we'll have to learn, before we can create the forms that will interface with our systems."

"Will one accountant in each plant be sufficient to handle the job? When we were talking with the owners, we indicated there would be two accountants," I reminded everyone.

"Two would be ideal, we just don't have that many we can spare," Bill replied.

"Ben, are there more accountants available in the local work force?" I asked.

"We've rehired all of the MoPaper accountants, from their original headquarters staff. There are those that were laid off from the various plants over the years, I don't know how many might be available. Of course it is late June there should be a group of recent college graduates coming on the market, across the country," Ben replied.

"It sounds like you know where to find some accountants? We need them here as soon as possible. We've got three weeks to get them trained," I said.

"Right DD," Ben acknowledged.

"How are we coming on our nationwide price for newsprint?" was my next question.

"Lynn March is working with the team that's putting those numbers together. I've been keeping tabs on them and we should have that by close of business on Friday, perhaps in time for our Friday executive staff meeting. We'll also know which plants will be running in the red and by how much," Bill proudly stated.

"That's excellent, Bill. Excellent. Pass on my compliments to the entire accounting staff."

"Will do, DD."

"I think that covers everything, except purchasing. How does Tom usually integrate the purchasing departments, of newly acquired plants?" I asked.

"Well, we're having a problem with purchasing," Bob started. "It seems that Tom lost virtually all of his department, in the headquarters move."

"The entire department?" I asked.

"All but one," Bob confirmed. "The two of them have been working like crazy, keeping the raw materials flowing."

"We've found that four of our new-hires have a little purchasing background," Ben said. "So they've been moved into purchasing, but it will take some time before they're up to speed."

"How many did we lose?" I asked.

"When we started out with just the Brandon plant, there was just Tom. He was handling everything okay on his own. Tom continued on his own, with the exception of Danbury, until we bought Owosso. One of their purchasing agents transferred to Brandon, between Tom and Ralph they kept everything moving. With the addition of Appalachian, came a third purchasing agent and a full time secretary to the department. It's worked out to be one purchasing agent for every eight to ten operating plants."

I thought for a moment before replying, "So the department was five people, in addition to Tom and a secretary. Now we have Tom, one experienced purchasing agent, four trainees, and no secretary. Taking into account the new plants and the partnership plants, we need three to four additional purchasing agents and probably two secretaries?"

"That's what I figure, but Tom hasn't told me what he needs yet," Ben replied.

"So we need seventeen additional accountants, four purchasing agents, and at least two secretaries. Does that complete our headquarters staffing needs?" I asked.

"That's pretty much it. Other than shipping wants three or four more, plus the additional security personnel you want, here and at the other plants," Ben replied.

I looked at Ben for a few moments, before asking, "Ben, how many people did you lose in the move?"

Ben smiled, and replied, "Only three."

"Only three? But you handle the staffing for the whole company. How is it that you only lost three?"

"After we purchased Appalachian I realized, I couldn't handle all the employment and personnel needs of the company, by myself," Ben admitted. "So I set up a Director of Personnel, in each region and a Personnel Manager, in each plant. Obviously, the plants report to the regional managers, who in turn report to one of my two assistants’. When we moved, I left one of my assistant's as the Northeast Regional Director, and the other assistant as the Brandon Personnel Manager. They're still sharing the same secretary. Eventually, I'm going to look for an assistant or two and a secretary, but they can wait until later. For right now, I been using the JC plant Personnel Manager to help with interviews and Ellen has been filling in as my secretary."

"So that's why she's been taking so long in getting my stuff done. She's too busy doing your stuff," Bob jokingly complained.

Ben started to apologize, but Bob quickly cut him off, "I'm just kidding. Ellen has been doing a great job for me, and knowing that she's been working for you as well, means I'm even more impressed with her abilities."

"Gentlemen, thank you for the update. Normally, I stop in for a couple of weeks, stir up the hornets’ nest and run back to school, leaving you to clean up the mess. It's good to see how organized you all are and how you manage to tackle all the problems I created. Of course, I've known all along that all of you are exceptional at your jobs; because of how Piermont has grown. I thank you all for your hard work, and it's because of how organized you are, that I've made a decision."

"What's that, you're going to take off for the next two months, while we get everyone integrated into the company?" Bob asked, with a smile.

Returning Bob's smile, I replied, "As tempting as that sounds, not this time. However, the enthusiasm and dedication that you've shown have helped me with a decision that I've been struggling with."

"And what decision is that?" Ben asked, before anyone else had the chance.

I paused a moment before answering, "I think this is something I should announce in our executive staff meeting this Friday. But I will say this; I'm going to need two accountants and two engineers, downstairs in the lobby, Sunday morning at 7:30. They'll need to be prepared for a three-day trip - maybe four days."

"Sunday? But, I'll be using the G1, getting the management teams in place," Bob said, it almost sounded like a question.

"Yes, you'll be using the G1. My small inspection team, will leave from here, Sunday morning, in the King Air," I stated.

Bob chuckled, "I'd forgotten about the King Air. It's a little small for cross country, isn't it?"

"Well, I wouldn't want to go that distance in anything smaller, but it did very well and was comfortable coming back from Portland, yesterday. It does have a lavatory, if the passengers need it. As for me, well, I'll just pull over at the nearest gas station."

"Speaking of Friday's meeting, I was talking with our rep at the phone company and I've arranged for a speaker phone to be installed tomorrow, here and in Matt's office in Brandon."

"Speaker phone?"

"On your conference table. We just call in, on the office buildings eight-hundred number, and have the switchboard patch us into the new extension."

"Interesting, is there a limit on how many incoming calls can be connected to that extension?"

"I don't know, why?"

"Oh, I was just thinking. If you and Matt call in -"

"We'll have John with us," Bob interrupted.

"Even better. I'll have Bill, Ben, and Tom here; you, Matt, and John call in from Brandon. Then we have Ron, Gerard, and Jerry, call in from their respective offices, and we can have full attendance at every meeting."

"I hadn't thought that far ahead and I'm not sure if that will work, but I'll have the answers before I leave today.

We discussed a few other issues before calling our impromptu meeting to a close. As was typical, Bob stayed after everyone else had left.

"What's on your mind Bob?"

"It's Canada, isn't it?" he said, leaning back in his chair.

"I can see there's no keeping any secrets from you. How did you figure it out?"

"I talked with Nancy early this morning. She mentioned there were five plant owners in Canada, asking to have you contact them and ask me what I thought."

"And what do you think?"

"I told Nancy it would be up to you."

"Expanding into Canada is a logical move. We have all the resources we need to organize and run an operation across the border."

"I would like to wait until the situation with Alliance is settled," Bob commented.

"It's because of Alliance that these plants are in trouble, but I agree with you completely. It would be preferable to hold off on any other expansion plans; until things have settled and stabilized."

"I guess we don't always get to have things the way we want."

"You have to admit, we have had our share of easy takeovers."

"Just do me a favor, boss?"

Giggling, I asked, "What would that be?"

"After this trip to Canada, no more this year? With the fifteen new plants, and the seventeen companies we're in partnership with, I'm going to be so busy between now and Halloween, that I won't see my family from next Saturday until Thanksgiving."

"Well, we'll have to do something about that, family time is important. I'm not sure what exactly, but we'll work something out."

"There's also moving my family from Brandon to JC, which needs to happen in the next couple of months.”

“I hadn’t forgotten about that. When the time is right, we’ll send some people from the plant over, to help your wife pack up the house. We’ll also make a truck available for the move,” I told him.

“That will be great, I hadn’t thought of that. There is one more thing I wanted to discuss; the other King Air, seeing how you brought up the subject. With both of us in the Northwest, for a few days, we should take the time to stop over in Eugene and pick up the other King Air. It would be more efficient, when I'm transporting just a few people, from place to place."

"I haven't gotten with Nancy to plan an itinerary yet, so arranging some time shouldn't be a problem. Why don't we plan on the trip to Eugene first thing Monday morning, then you'll have the option of using which ever plane is the most appropriate for each trip."

After Bob left, I thought I'd review our five-year business plan. After all, we reached all of the goals of our first five-year plan, in one and a half years. We were now two and a half years into our second five-year plan, and I was sure we'd achieved at least half of the goals we set. So I figured it was time for me to do my job and review exactly where we stood as a company. Of course, going to war with Alliance, wasn't one of our goals. However, because of the price war, we were propelled into making acquisitions above and beyond what we would have expected for our normal growth rate.

As the day was drawing to a close, Bob and John came to pay me a visit, before heading for the airport. Bob's news was not all good, the arrangements for temporary managers at the new plants, was going better than expected. However, the news from the phone company was not as good. Having four calls coming in to the speaker phone in my office, was not possible, with the equipment we were currently using. There was some newer equipment available, that would allow what we wanted and Bob had made the arrangement for the upgrade.

You could tell that John was shocked, when I asked for two engineers to accompany me, on a little trip up into Canada. Of course, he was loaded with questions, leaving from where, when, what plane I was taking, how many were going, how long will they be gone, how many companies will we be evaluating, and on and on?

Between Bob and me, we answered most of John's questions. The only ones we couldn't answer, had to do with timing, and the return date and time; Nancy and I would work out the itinerary, Thursday morning.

"Well, it looks like I have a problem," John complained.

"What would that be?" Bob asked.

"Well, the way I see it, once the announcement is made Friday morning, about expanding into Canada, most of the engineers in the company, will want to be part of the inspection team."

"You could organize a lottery, a dollar a ticket," I suggested, with a chuckle.

"Yes, but what would I do with the money?" John asked.

"We could add it to the company party fund. That way, everyone would benefit," Bob suggested.

"I was joking," I said.

"We know," Bob and John replied together.

Smiling, I continued, "I know you'll provide me with two competent engineers, John."

"Us," John stated.

"Us?" I asked.

"Well, you don't think I'm going to let you take two of my engineers into Canada, without me coming along, do you?" John answered.

"As President of Piermont Paper, technically, they are my engineers. However, if you want to come along to supervise your engineers, you're more than welcome to join the party."

"You know, boss, once Bill finds out where you are taking his accountants, he's going to insist that he goes along," Bob said.

"I guess it's a good thing the King Air can accommodate six, in relative comfort."

"Yes, it’s a good thing," Bob agreed. "Well, we better be off. My wife and kids are going to be waiting at the airport. I'll see you Monday morning, in Portland."

"And I'll see you Sunday morning," John added, as the two of them were heading for the door.

Thursday, July 20, 1972

I'd just fixed myself a cup of tea and gotten comfortable, when Nancy called. "I have Mr. Wells on the line for you Miss Drake."

"Thank you, Nancy."

"Good morning Mr. Wells, how are you on this beautiful sunny morning?"

Mr. Wells chuckled softly before answering, "It may be sunny in your part of the world, but it's raining profusely in mine."

"I'm sorry to hear that. By the way, I wanted to thank you for your recommendations. I did engage the services of one of the firms you recommend. Now then, what can I do for you this morning?"

"I thought that was supposed to be my question, what I can do for you, Miss Drake? I’m glad that one of my associates on the west coast was able to help you."

"Of course, you're right about confusing the question. Now then, what can you do for me this morning?"

"I have a name for you, Miss Drake."

"A name? You know who South Core's spy is?" I asked, excitedly.

"Well, it's possibly their spy. All I can tell you for sure is that this individual worked for South Core for many years; right up until two months before starting to working for you. It was a little hard to verify, the actual work history had been very effectively obscured, but the more we dug into it, the more the strings of the deception unraveled. A friend of mine that works with the IRS, was able to clear things up, he can be extremely helpful from time to time."

"Yes, friends in high places are definitely good to have. So who do I need to keep an eye on?"

* * * To Be Continued * * *

Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]

Chapter 8

By Penny Reed Cardon

This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite

This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.

It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.

Chapter 8

"The name - is Mark Johnson," Mr. Wells coldly answered my question.

"Mark Johnson?" I hesitantly repeated. I paused a moment before continuing. "This could be a problem."

"Why's that a problem? Just fire his low life stoolie ass-et."

"In Brandon Mr. Johnson was an accountant, just one of many. He was part of the group that handled the coordination of shipping to our customers. Being that, he was the only one from that group to make the move from Brandon to JC. Our VP of Personnel just promoted him to supervisor of the shipping department."

I could hear Mr. Wells sigh, "Well, as I said before, we're not one hundred percent sure he's the spy. It's just that he did work for South Core and his actual work history had been, expertly, concealed."

"I understand, Mr. Wells. We’ll have to keep a close eye on him, from now on,” I replied, with a sigh. “Is there anything else, Mr. Wells, any threats against Piermont, or perhaps some other unsuspecting company?"

"Well, they are planning to take over a company in Alabama next week. I didn't mention it because they produce egg cartons and things like that, not the types of paper you produce."

'Oh no. Roy's not in trouble again, is he?' I thought. "What's the name of this unsuspecting little company?"

"Allison Paper, in southern Alabama."

"OOH, that's a relief to hear. I thought they might be going after Roy Blu."

"Didn't he own MoPaper?"

"Yes, he did, and before you ask; yes, we are on friendly terms."

"So, this is good news, for a change?"

"I guess so. Yes, I'd consider it good news."

"Well, that's refreshing. Usually I'm the one giving people bad news." I could hear a slight change in his tone and knew he was pleased with himself.

I had to giggle a moment at Mr. Wells’ revelation. "Thank you for calling, Mr. Wells."

"I'll be in touch if we hear anything else. Good day, Miss Drake."

"Goodbye Mr. Wells."

After I'd hung up with Mr. Wells I called Nancy.

"Yes, Miss Drake. What can I do for you?"

"Yesterday afternoon you prepared a rejection letter to be sent to Allison Paper, in Alabama. Do you know if it's still in the building?"

"It should be, Miss Drake. The post office picks up outgoing mail when the days’ mail is delivered, that's usually around 9:30."

"Great, call down to the mail room and have that letter pulled. Then I need you to get Roy Blu on the phone."

"Yes ma'am, right away."

While I was waiting for Nancy, I gave Bill a call and asked him to collect all the information he could dig up, quickly, about Allison Paper.

I'd just hung up with Bill when Nancy called. "The mail room found the letter to Allison Paper. They'll send it up along with today's mail. I have Roy Blu on the line for you, ma'am."

"Thank you, Nancy. Put him through."

"Good morning Roy, how are you."

"Well good morning DD. Life is good and business is booming. What can I do for you sugar?"

"Well, maybe I can do something for you, Roy. First, if you don't mind me asking, how's your financial situation these days?"

"Why, have you heard something bad?"

"Yes, but not about you. Are you familiar with Allison Paper? I think they are somewhere in Alabama."

"Sure I know them. They've got a nice little plant in southern Alabama. Why?"

"I've just heard that South Core is going to pounce on them next week."

"WELL, SON OF A . . . um, I mean, that’s terrible. I know Allison and her daddy real well. I knew they was having a bit of a hard time, but I had no idea they was that badly off. I really hate those people at South Core."

"I'm not very fond of them myself. Anyway, I received an offer to buy out Allison, this week. As you know, I'm not interested in plants that produce formed paper products. So, I was wondering if you were in a position to go after them. You know how pleased I am when someone beats South Core to the punch."

"Well, I don't know if I'm in a position to buy out Allison. I mean, my cash flow is real good, my cash reserve is stable at about half a million, and I've got about a hundred thousand in a slush fund. I don't know about committing everything on a buyout. Besides, I'm not in your league when it comes to wheeling and dealing. Hey DD, how about if you come down here and do the wheeling and dealing, maybe you can get the plant for a song and I could learn a thing or two?"

"I kind of thought you'd ask that question," I replied, with a giggle. "I've already got my finance people looking into the situation at Allison. I'm sort of pressed for time so if we're going to do this it will have to be this afternoon. Can you clear your afternoon schedule?"

"You just tell me where to meet that fantastic bizz jet of yours and I'll be there."

"I don't have access to the jet right now. We'll be using our newly acquired Beechcraft King Air. It's a little slower than the jet, but it's a nice little plane."

"Little plane? Well I guess that sounds fine and dandy, little lady." For some reason Roy sounded a little nervous. "When and where."

"I'll get back to you on the time Roy, what’s the nearest airport to your plant?”

“Shucks, that would be the Scottsboro Muni-Word field, just Northeast of Scottsboro, in ta Northeast corner of Alabama.”

“Got it. Listen, Roy, as long as I'm showing you DD's wheeling and dealing techniques, why don't you bring along your chief engineer and your chief accountant. I'm sure they can learn a thing or two from my people."

"That's a swell idea, DD. I'll talk with them right away."

"Great Roy. I'll have my secretary give you a call when I have the details worked out. See you later."

"I'm looking forward to it, sugar. By now"

As soon as I hung up I pulled out my chart case and started figuring out a flight plan. My problem was that John was in Brandon. After I found a convenient airport I asked Nancy to track down John Fahey, in Brandon.

I’d been studying the charts for about twenty minutes, when my phone rang.

"Miss Drake, I apologize for taking so long, but I've tracked down Mr. Fahey. I'll put him through now."

I smiled at Nancy's apology as I replied, "Thank you Nancy." I must remember to complement Nancy for her efficiency. I had no idea where John would have been, or what it took to 'chase him down,' but I knew that Nancy was probably on the phone the entire time.

"DD?" John asked.

"Hello John. It’s been such a long time since we talked I thought I'd call and see how things are going up there,” I teasingly replied.

“A long time?” John asked, with a chuckle. “DD, it was yesterday evening that Bob and I were in your office.”

“I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that something has come up and I need your services. How fast can you be in Louisville, Kentucky?”

“What? - Um, I don’t know off the top of my head. What’s going on?”

“There’s a plant in southern Alabama that we need to evaluate, for a friend. The only time I have available is today.”

Sounding a little exasperated, John replied, “I’ll have to get back to you, DD. I have no idea what flights I can get, on such short notice.”

“Do your best John. I'll be waiting to hear from you.”

‘I would love to be a fly on Bob’s wall when John goes in to talk with him, about that crazy phone call,’ I thought.

I’d left the most of the charts on the conference table, taking a couple back to my desk. It was about twenty minutes before my phone rang.

“Yes Nancy?”

“I have Mr. Warren on the line for you Miss Drake.”

“Thank you, Nancy. Put him through.”

"Good morning, Bob. How are your wife and children? Pleased to see you I imagine."

After a slight pause, Bob replied, "Yes, my wife and kids were happy to see me, and they are doing fine, thank you. You want to tell me about this little trip to Alabama?"

I smiled to myself, as I explained the details of the trip to Allison paper and teaching Roy Blu the art of wheeling and dealing. I decided to hold off on informing Bob about Mark Johnson. There wasn't anything he could do from there and I didn't want him fuming about it while he was supposed to be relaxing with his family.

As we were about to hang up, I heard John enter Bob's, temporary, office.

"Hold on a second, boss, John is looking a little frustrated," Bob requested.

It was a few moments before Bob came back on the line.

"Well, it seems that the earliest John can be in Louisville is six tonight, flying common carrier that is. I guess I'll have to fly him down."

"But, Bob, you're supposed to be spending time with your family."

"Yes I am, and they'll be a little disappointed. We will just have to push John a little harder, about getting his pilot’s license. As for today, there aren't many options."

"I'd argue, but I guess you're right. Bob, have you taken your family flying?" I ask while scanning the chart for Missouri.

"What?"

"Well, I was just thinking, Captain O'Toole's family really enjoyed flying with their father. I figured yours might enjoy some time in the air, with you."

"I see. No, I haven't taken them flying, what were you thinking?"

"Then it's settled, call your wife and ask her to pack some bags, for the family. Instead of Louisville, Kentucky, I'll meet you at the Spirit of St Louis airport, West of St Louis, Missouri. After I pick up John, you and your family can spend a couple of days at Six Flags over Mid-America," I suggested.

I heard Bob laughing for a minute before he replied, "Boss, you really are amazing. I better not tell the kids where we're going, their screaming would be deafening."

"I'm sure it would be," I agreed, with a smile of my own. "Bob, how soon do you think you can be airborne?"

"Let's see, it's just after ten now, give time for my family to get here and for John to grab a bag and get back -"

"I'll meet you at the airport in thirty minutes," I heard John call out, then I heard a door close.

"Well, that takes care of John," Bob confirmed, with a chuckle. "We should be wheels up by 11:15."

"Okay, by my calculations that should have you landing in St Louis between 1:15 and 1:30, local time, depending on what Mother Nature throws at you."

"That's about what I'm figuring. Well, I better call my wife and get home to give her a hand with the kids."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate the help. I'll see you in St Louis, Bob."

After Bob and I hung up, I checked the charts once more and then had Nancy call Roy, asking him to meet us at the Scottsboro airport at 3:30.

Just before ten my phone rang. "Miss Drake, there's a Mr. Landis asking to speak with you. I know he's a reporter for one of the periodicals you receive, I don't remember which and I know you haven't been taking any calls from reporters, but he said this was a follow up on the interview you gave him."

"You are correct, Nancy. Mr. Landis is a reporter, for Log Views, and I have been expecting a call from him. Although, I wasn't expecting his call until tomorrow. You may put him through."

"Good morning Rick."

"It is a good morning, DD. In fact, it's a fabulous morning. I just dropped off two copies of the article for the legal department, at the Ameri-Moore headquarters."

"That was fast. I didn't expect you to have it finished until tomorrow sometime."

"I know, I figured it would take longer, but my editor was so excited about us getting the scoop that he helped with a lot of the leg work."

"Really? So did your editor think the story warranted putting out a special edition?"

"That he did. As soon as your legal department puts their stamp of approval on it, the presses will roll. The special edition should be in the hands of our distribution department Sunday morning."

"I'm almost afraid to ask this question, what did you do for art?"

"They wanted more recent pictures of you and De Forrest than we have on file, so they made a deal with Paper Press. Some of their file photos and they can reprint the story, three days after our edition hits the streets."

"And Paper Press went along with that arrangement?"

"They didn't at first. It was only after we pointed out how few customs would be receiving both publications that they eventually agreed."

"So which picture did you decide to put on the cover?"

"They turned the art department loose to see what they could come up with."

"You didn't give them Susan's idea of General Mc Arthur, did you?"

"It was in the top three, but they decided on something else."

"I'm afraid to ask, but how have they abused my face this time?"

"It actually looks pretty good. They have you sitting on a horse, with the reins in your teeth, and a revolver in each hand. It reminds me of an old picture I saw once of Annie Oakley."

"Sounds more like John Wayne in True Grit."

"I hadn't made that connection, but now that you mention it, they are pretty close. But if my memory is right, John Wayne had a revolver in one hand and a rifle it the other."

"I think you're right, Rick. Oh well, I guess being compared to Annie Oakley isn't too bad. I wonder what my mother and aunt would say if I arrived at home with a pair of revolvers strapped to my hips."

"I don't know what they'd say, but I want a picture of you with them, riding Emily," Rick said, with a chuckle.

"Being that I don't have any guns there will be no pictures and I'm surprised you remembered her name. As for your art department’s creation, I guess I'll see their handy work when I get back in the office, on Wednesday."

"You’re going on another buying trip?" Rick asked, fishing for information and possible another story.

I thought for a moment before answering his question. I didn't think it would be a bad thing if he knew we were expanding into Canada. I just wasn't sure I wanted to openly tell him. "No immediate plans, but anything is possible," I finally replied.

"A cryptic reply if I ever heard one."

"Well, you have to allow a girl to keep a few secrets."

"I suppose so. Anyway, I just called to update you on the story and to thank you for the exclusive.

"Thank you for the update and your welcome, Rick. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, DD."

'If the hornets weren't stirred up before, they most assuredly will be by the end of next week. I wonder if Bobby has a subscription to Log Views or not. I guess the only difference it would make is, should I expect to see him on Wednesday or Friday.'

I took one of our standard 'Letter of Intent' to Nancy and asked her to produce several that did not have the Piermont logo. For the ability of being used generically I requested several other changes, as well. I also asked her to call Allison Paper, for me. I'd been back in my office for a minute or so when my phone rang.

"Yes, Nancy?"

"I have Allison Boudreaux for you, Miss Drake."

"Thank you, Nancy."

"This is Miss Drake," I cheerfully greeted, when I heard the telltale click of the connection being made.

"Good morning Miss Drake, this is Allison Boudreaux, of Allison Paper, I'm pleased to hear from you. May I assume you’re calling in response to the letter I sent you?" I couldn't help but notice her very Southern Bell accent.

"I am indeed, Miss Boudreaux."

"Please, call me Allison. Miss Boudreaux sounds so formal. It sounds like someone is calling for ma, ma."

"I understand complete, Allison, and you may as well call me DD, almost everyone does."

"Very well, DD it is. So, how may I help you?"

"Well, about this offer to sell your company," I started.

"Yes, daddy is so upset about it, he's devoted most of his life to this company and now, according to South Core, it’s not worth anything. We hate to sell her but we can't think of any way out."

Right then I knew what had been going on. I didn't need to see the books; they would just confirm what I now knew. Allison's statement of their problem, including the name South Core, told me everything needed to know.

"Allison, I am sorry you've had such a run of problems. However, concerning the possible purchase of Allison Paper, I don't make a decision like this without a firsthand look see, if you know what I mean. I'd like to come down there and look the place over, but my time is very limited right now. Would this afternoon be convenient?"

"This afternoon? Oh my, that is sudden, but yes, this afternoon would be just fine. What time should we expect you?"

"That's a little tough to estimate, my inspection team is scattered at the moment. However, my best guess will put us landing at your Monroe County Airport between 3:30 and 4:00. That is the airport closest to the plant, isn't it?"

"Yes, that's the closest airport. What's this about a team?"

"Yes, my inspection team. I always take a team of experts with me. It helps to avoid problems for both parties. Although, on this trip there will be a few extras, I'll explain when we arrive."

"All right then, we'll be looking forward to visiting with you this afternoon."

"I look forward to meeting with you and your Father, Allison."

Next on my list was to check with Bill and see what he's found out about Allison Paper. He seemed a little surprised when I entered his office, after knocking first.

'It was already 10:30 and the clock was ticking fast.'

"DD, what are you doing here?"

"I came to see what you found out about Allison Paper."

"But you didn't have to walk over here. I'd have come to your office."

"Bill, relax. I've finished the plans for our flight and I have an hour to spare before I have to go pre-flight the King Air."

"Our flight?"

"Yes, I need your expertise once more."

"But, Boss, Allison Paper makes formed paper products."

"I know they produce formed products, this isn't for us, Bill. We're going to help a friend - we're going to help Roy Blu."

"So what's the rush? Can't this wait until we get back from Canada?"

"By then South Core will have forced Allison into a giveaway sale, which translates into ‘We're here to steal your company’."

"So we're going to help Roy snatch a plumb away from South Core? That sounds good, I'm in."

"Well now, that's the real question, isn't it? Is it a plumb or a bunch of sour grapes?"

"Well DD, that's what my preliminary information shows. The situation at Allison looks like a typical South Core take over. They went through an expansion phase three years ago. It wasn't an all-out replace everything expansion, but a more reasonable, expand the building and install some forming equipment that was newer than what they were currently running. Then two years ago their volume started dropping off. Three months ago, because of delinquencies, they were put on cash only status by most vendors."

"I wonder if their sales department has been influenced by South Core?" I asked softly.

"I don't have any information about their sales people, but I do know that most of their production is geared around one product, formed paper egg cartons."

"Diversifying the product line would be Roy's problem. As far as their sales people are concerned, I wish we could take Matt along."

"Well, why can't we take Matt along?" Bill asked.

"We should have thought of that sooner. I'm sure Bob and John are in the air already," I bemoaned having our headquarters operations split up would cause a never ending string of difficulties.

"What does Bob and John have to do with it, Matt's here. He's downstairs with the sales staff."

"What, since when?"

"He flew down Monday, on a commercial flight."

"Why am I the last one to hear about these things?" I asked, along with making an exaggerated gesture with my arms.

Chuckling, Bill replied, "I can't answer that question. But he is here if you want him to come along."

"Well, why not. All we have to do is swap planes with Bob, in St Louis. I think I'll go have a little talk with Matt. Bill, I'll be leaving here at 11:30 to pre-flight the plane and file a flight plan. Will you be ready to leave then, or do you like a little more time to finish up your research?"

"I could use some more time."

"Okay, but you'll need to be at the plane by 12:15, we need to be in the air by 12:30."

"I'll be there," Bill confirmed.

I left Bill's office and went back to mine. After putting the charts back in my chart case, I collected everything I needed to spend the rest of the day on the road, or rather, in the air. I stopped at Nancy's desk and picked up the updated Letter of Intent. I also gave her a copy of my itinerary for the rest of the day and asked her to arrange for a limo or a couple of cars, to be waiting the Monroe County Airport.

Taking the elevator to the first floor, I headed for the office Matt was apparently going to use when he's in JC. Still shunning the executive suits, Matt prefers to be close to his sales staff. As usually, his door was open and he was on the phone. I knocked gently and he waved me towards a chair.

"Morning boss, what can I do for you?" Matt asked, after he concluded his phone call.

"First you can tell me why I didn't know you were in the building," I said, just a little gruffly to see if I could get a rise out of him.

"But . . . I didn't . . . I'm sorry. Should I have check in with you or your secretary?"

"Of course you don't need to check in with me. I was just taken by surprise when I was told you were here. But, as always it's good to see you."

Matt relaxed once he realized I wasn't really upset. Smiling, he again asked, "So, what can I do for you?"

"You can clear your afternoon schedule and come with me for a plane ride."

Matt chuckled and replied, "DD, I'm flattered but aren't you a little young for me?"

I smiled and shook my head at Matt's humor. "Bill will be coming along and we're picking up John in St Louis."

"Oh well, I guess we really didn't want to start any rumors about the boss and someone that is old enough to be her Great Grand Father. Where are we off to?"

"We're helping Roy Blu snatch up a company before the South Core vultures land on them."

Matt growled softly and stated, "I hate those people. When do we leave?"

"I'm leaving now. Bill will be leaving for the airport about noon. I'm sure he'd enjoy your company."

"That would give me about thirty minutes to make arrangements to be gone the rest of the day. I'll give Bill a call as soon as we're done here."

"That's great Matt. Could I borrow your phone for a moment?"

"Sure thing, boss."

Matt handed me the handset and I asked him to dial Nancy for me.

"Piermont Paper, Executive offices. How may I help you?"

"Hello Nancy, its Miss Drake."

"Yes Miss Drake, I thought you'd left the building. What can I do for you?"

"I stopped to talk with Mr. Piermont before leaving. He's going to be making the trip, along with Bill and John. I'd like you to call Roy Blu and ask him to bring his sales manager with him. Also, there will now be eight people to transport from the airport to and from the paper plant, in Alabama."

"Yes, Miss Drake. I'll take care of everything."

"Thank you Nancy. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Have a safe trip, Miss Drake."

I handed the handset back, to Matt. "And, I'll see you in a little while, Matt," I said, as I stood to leave.

"We'll be there," Matt replied, as I reached his office door.

The trip to the Jefferson City airport, the preflight, and filling of my flight plan, were all uneventful. Bill and Matt arrived right on time and we were soon airborne. The short hop to St Louis was a lovely little flight, clear skies and no wind to speak of.

We were in range of the Spirit of St Louis control center almost as soon as we were in the air. I contacted them to identify myself and declare my intentions. I also requested the frequency for their ground control. Contacting the St Louis ground control I requested that they put me in touch with someone that rented out tie down spaces, in the private plane area of the airport. The process went quickly and before we touched down we had a ground destination, where we would temporally secure the King Air. Once we were on the ground, I informed ground control of the imminent arrival of Bob and the G1, requesting that they be directed to the same location.

We'd been waiting about ten minutes when Bill pointed out the G1 gently touching down. I hadn't shut down the radios and had to shake my head as we listened to the various comments about the colorful plane and the speculation as to its ownership, on our secondary radio. Our secondary radio was used for unofficial communications between planes. Matt being the jokester that he is, leaned into the cockpit and grabbed the mike, of the secondary radio, he proudly declared that the colorful plane was nicknamed Flower Power One and was the flagship of Piermont Paper’s small fleet of aircraft.

"Piermont Paper, isn't that the company that's being run by a little girl?" we heard someone ask.

"Yeah, I think you is right," was another remark.

"Isn't they based in Vermont, what they doing down here?"

"I read in the paper a few weeks back there was a fire at their headquarters in Vermont."

"That's right; I read it in the Paper Press. I also read that they moved their operation to Jefferson City."

"So is there really a little girl running the company?"

"That's right, her name is Darla Anne Drake, although I hear she's not so little anymore, I think she's seventeen or eighteen by now."

"Didn't she rescue Piermont Paper from bankruptcy when she was thirteen?"

"You've got to be joking. No thirteen year-old girl can run a paper company."

"That's what was reported by the Paper Press. They've been following her carrier for the last four plus years."

"So is she on board that colorful plane?"

Bill apparently couldn't resist the temptation and picked up the mike, "No, she's not aboard Flower Power One, but in about fifteen minute she will be piloting that plane when it takes off, headed for Alabama."

"Bill," I complained. "You didn't have to tell everyone our plans."

"A seventeen year-old girl is going to fly that big airliner?"

"That's right. She bought it about a year ago and fly’s it all around the country." I recognized Bob's voice.

"The plane just taxied past us and there's a man in the pilot’s seat."

"And there's a couple of kids waving out of two rear windows."

I figured since everyone else was getting in on the fun I might as well join them. Taking the mike from Bill I announced, "That would be my Executive Vice President, Robert Warren, and his family. They're spending a couple of days over at Six Flags enjoying some well-deserved family time."

"Miss Drake - was that you?"

"Did someone say Miss Drake was here?"

"Really, where? I've never seen her in person, only the pictures in Paper Press."

"She's really just a teenager, and she's running a big company?"

"I don't know where she is, but that psychedelic plane is still moving."

"I don't know where Miss Drake is, but I'll bet she'll be close to where that big plane stops. And yes she's a seventeen year-old girl."

"It's going past us now. It looks like they're going all the way to the end of the ramp."

"Everyone listen up, this is Peter Morris, from the St Louis Post-Dispatch. If anyone gets some good clear shots of Miss Drake my publisher will pay you for them."

"Really? That colorful plane has stopped just up from me, too bad I don't have a camera."

They had indeed stopped, just behind the King Air.

"Well, shall we go face our adoring public?" I asked Bill and Matt.

"That would be your adoring public, boss," Matt said, with a grin.

"That's right, to them we're a couple of nobody's," Bill added.

"And I, for one, would like to keep it that way," Matt agreed.

"You're both cowards," I jokingly chided them.

We left the King Air and waited for Bob to shut down the G1's engines. I was surprised when the door opened shortly after the port engine was shutdown, the starboard engine was still idling. Bob smiled and waved just before he lowered the stairs.

Bob came down first, followed by his two kids, and lastly his wife. We all exchanged greetings, then I asked where John was.

"John's in the cockpit, keeping an eye on things," Bob replied.

"Why didn't you shutdown both engines?" Bill asked.

"Well, from what I heard over the radio, you'll be leaving shortly. I knew you'd be leaving right away, I just wasn't expecting you to be taking the G1," was Bob's logical reply.

"Being that Matt was in JC I decided to take him along, to do some teaching with Roy's sales manager. I can stuff eight into the King Air, with one on the jump seat and one on the lavatory box, but it just doesn't make for a comfortable ride," I explained.

"Well, you're right about that. When do you expect to be back? Bob wanted to know.

"Just guessing, I'd say between 8:00 and 9:00 tonight, why?"

"Well before bed time," Bob replied, surprising me with his answer.

"You're planning on sleeping in the plane?" Bill asked.

"Why not get a hotel room, for the night?" Matt added.

"Well, barring the absence of room service, the seats are quite comfortable. If we tilt them all the way back, add a blanket, perhaps a pillow, we should be quiet cozy," Helen Warren quietly replied.

"I hadn't thought of that, but okay. If you think you'll be comfortable, I have no complaints," I conceded. "Well, Matt, Bill, I guess we should get going. Bob, I'll see you in Portland, Monday morning. Have fun kids," I called out, as I started up the steps, into the G1. Bob's kids cheered excitedly.

As Bill brought up the steps and latched the door, I went forward and greeted John as I climbed into the pilot's seat. Quickly running down the check list and we were ready to restart the port engine. After getting clearance we started to move towards the taxiway that would take us to the designated runway.

The flight to Scottsboro was uneventful although shorter than expected. I’d calculated our arrival time based on the speed of the King Air, not the G1. In route I had John call Nancy to inform Roy and Allison of the updated arrival times.

We landed in Scottsboro and taxied to what appeared to be the only airport structure, that wasn’t a private hangar. Being that we were a little early, I shut down both engines and had bill open the door and lower the steps. Bill and John followed me as I went to the airport office building. I’d forgotten just how hot and humid Alabama could be, in the middle of July, until we left the comfort of the air conditioned G1. We were almost to the office building when the door opened and out came Roy Blu, followed by three other men.

“Hello Roy,” I greeted, as I offered him my hand.

“How y’all doing?” Roy replied. Then he asked, “What da’ ya’ call that thing?”

“We call that thing an airplane,” John quickly replied.

“Okay, it do sorta look like a airplane, but why’s it look like ta inside of a hippy van?” Ray wanted to know.

“That Roy is a long story,” I replied. “Why don’t we continue this conversation inside the hippy van instead of here on the tarmac, I guarantee that it’s cooler inside.”

“Sounds good to me,” Roy agreed.

“I agree,” Bill added.

It didn’t take long to get back to the G1 and get everyone inside. It was cooler inside, but with the door open it was warming up fast.

I started on the introductions, “Roy, I’m sure you remember my VP of Finance, William Marshall, and my VP of Production Engineering, John Fahey. I’d also like you to meet Matthew Piermont, our VP of Sales and Marketing.”

“Gentlemen, it’s a pleasure. This here is my Chief Engineer, Walter Crowley. My Chief Accountant, Rex Howard. And this here is my Sales Manager, Spencer Mathews.”

“Gentlemen, welcome aboard. I hope you’ll find the afternoon to be enlightening,” I said. “Why don’t we pair up according to our job function for the flight down to Monroe County? That way we can talk about what we plan to accomplish. Roy, that means you're up front with me.”

“Up front, ya mean - in ta cockpit, as in, you is flying this thing an - ya want me in there, with y'all?” Roy sounded more than a little nervous.

"What's the matter Roy, you don't believe women should or can fly?" I asked.

"Well, no, um, I'm sure that women make fine pilots. I just didn't think, I mean I don't -"

"Roy, stop stuttering and start moving," I said, as I parted the curtains as stepped into the cockpit.

I had almost finished the pre-flight check list before Roy appeared through the curtains.

I looked at Roy's pale complexion and smiled to myself as I quietly asked, "Roy, don't tell me a big strong man like you is afraid of flying?"

"No, no, I like flying jest fine, as long as I'm not doing the flying - - - and I can just pretend I'm on a big bus."

I thought for a moment and realized it was the cockpit windows that would really amplify Roy's problem, "It’s okay Roy, your secret is safe with me. Why don't you go find a seat somewhere in the 'back of the bus'. We'll have time to talk while the guys are doing their inspections."

"You sure about that, you don't need no hep or nuttin?"

"No Roy, I'm fine. I've been flying this plane . . . I mean I've been driving this bus off and on, for about nine months. You go sit back and relax. We'll be at the Monroe county airport in about half an hour."

"Only half an hour, you drive offal fast for such a young bus driver."

Giggling, I replied, "I do indeed, Roy, I do indeed."

"OK DD, if you is sure."

"I'm sure, Roy."

Roy look a lot better as he turned and headed back through the curtains.

The short flight South held no surprises, clear skies, no wind to speak of, and fortunately for Roy no turbulence. When lifting off and landing I tried to make sure there was no bouncing. I landed Northeast to Southwest, on the single runway. After coming to a stop, I turned around on the runway to taxi back up to what appeared to be the terminal. I thought it odd that there wasn't a taxiway running parallel to the runway, but it was what it was.

Roy and I were the last to exit the plane. I stopped him and asked, "Well, how was it?"

He smiled at me and said, "You're an excellent bus driver, better than most I've ridden with."

There was a stretch limo waiting for us, by the small terminal building. As always, Nancy had taking care of the necessary details. The driver had the address for the plant and we were soon on our way.

It took about twenty minutes to reach Allison Paper, during which I asked Bill to bring everyone up to speed on the situation at Allison. It was pretty much what I expected, steadily increasing volume, expansion, and a short time later orders start dropping off. The current situation was one we've seen before, behind on payments to the bank and the suppliers, waiting for the walls to be pulled down.

I was a little surprised to find neither Allison nor her Father waiting for us, when we arrived. Although, we were a little early. Roy and I went to the receptionist's desk.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"Good afternoon, I'm Darla Anne Drake, Allison Bordeaux is expecting me," I pleasantly replied.

"Yes, Miss Drake, Miss Bordeaux informed me of your arrival. I'll let her know you're here. If you and your party would like, you may wait in the conference room, it's just through the here," she indicated the door behind her and to her right.

"That will be just fine, Miss . . .?”

"Oh, it’s Misses, Mrs. Marilyn Bradley," she replied, as she picked up the handset of her phone console.

"Thank you, Mrs. Bradley," I replied, before turning towards the conference room door, which Roy was already holding open.

I took a seat near the middle of the average size conference table. Bill sat on my right and Roy left. It was a little strange not having Bob on my left, but this was really Roy's show we were just here as advisers. Besides, Bob really needed to be spending the time with his family. Even if I was looking at a adding to Piermont, I wouldn't have taken Bob away from his family, not this time.

I heard the door open, behind and to my left. I heard a female voice proclaim, "Miss Drake, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

I stood and turned to greet Allison, "Allison Bordeaux I presume, the pleasure is mine."

At that moment Roy stood up and turned towards Allison. Allison was surprised, almost in shock by Roy's presence. It only took a moment for her brain to catch up with the situation.

"Uncle Roy! What are you doing here?'

"Uncle Roy?" I asked, somewhat surprised.

"We're not actually related," Roy quickly stated, as he looked at me. "I've just been a friend of the family for a long time. Turning back to Allison Roy continued, explaining, "DD called me this morning and told me you was in trouble. How come I have to hear about this from DD and not from you?"

"I'm sorry Uncle Roy, knowing that you lost MoPaper two years ago, we didn't think you'd be in a position to help. We knew that Piermont bought you out, when you was in a bind, and we were hoping they could do the same for us."

"I suppose it's nice to be thought of as a rescuer instead of as a conniving corporate raider," I said with a smile, looking at Roy.

"Hey, I apologized for that," Roy quickly stated.

"Yes you did. Just a little jab between friends, but back to business. Allison, I was about to send you a reply to your letter, stating, 'I'm sorry but Piermont isn't interested in a formed paper products company'." I instantly saw Allison's demeanor change. "That is, until I found out more about your situation. It was only after I called and talked with Roy that we decided to come down and look over the situation."

"I'm confused Miss Drake, does that mean you are interested in buying the company or you are not interested in buying the company?" Allison asked.

"Allow me to clarify; I am not interested in purchasing a company that produces formed paper products. I am interested in helping someone who is being forced out of business by an unscrupulous competitor, namely South Core. Assuming everything checks out, during our evaluation, Roy will be the one buying your company. Myself, and my executives, are here in an advisory capacity."

"I'm still a little confused by all of this, Miss Drake. How do you know about South Core?"

"We've had many dealings with South Core, over the years, I'm sorry to say. However, because of those dealings, we've learned how to spot their underhanded tactics."

"And they were more than generous with me," Roy added. "Allison, where's your daddy?"

She frowned and shook her head, slightly, "He's in his office on the phone, yelling at some banker."

"I know how he feels, dam bankers," Roy cursed.

"Yes, I guess you could say that banks and bankers are a necessary evil in today's business world. However time is short, we need to get started," I added, bring everyone back to the task at hand.

We proceeded with the formal introductions, I introduced my people and Roy introduced his. I asked Allison for a brief history of the company and more details about their current situation. Everything she told us agreed with what Bill had come up with. Then Allison arranged for someone to guide Bill and Rex Howard to the accounting office. Likewise Matt and Spencer Mathews were shown to the sales office. John, along with Walter Crowley, Roy, and I were ready to accompany Allison to the plant floor, to begin our tour and evaluations, when an older gentleman entered the conference room.

"Bo, good to see you again," Roy exclaimed. "DD, allow me to introduce one of the last remaining gentleman in this cut throat business of ours, Beauregard Boudreaux. Beauregard, this is Miss Darla Anne Drake, President of Piermont Paper Products, and the only Princess in our industry."

"I am honored, my lady," Mr. Boudreaux said, as we both extended our hands for a friendly shake, although, instead of shaking my hand, he rotated and kissed the back of my hand.

"Mr. Boudreaux, that was . . . unexpected," I responded, with a slight blush.

"Roy said you are a princess, and royalty must be treated with courtesy," Mr. Boudreaux explained.

"I'm sure Roy was exaggerating a bit more than normal. I am not royalty," I confessed.

"You may not be royalty, DD, but you have a reputation for being fair, and sometimes even generous, that sets you way above the rest, and that makes you a princess in my book," Roy elaborated.

"Thank you Roy, that's very kind of you, but don't overdo it. And, thank you Mr. Boudreaux, I've never had anyone kiss my hand before" I added.

"My pleasure Miss Drake. Please, call me Bo, as the rest of my friends do," Mr. Boudreaux requested.

"Very well, Bo it is, providing you call me DD."

"Hum mm, Princess DD. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" Roy asked, more like thinking out loud.

"Don't you even think something like that Roy," I cautioned. "If someone at Paper Press heard anyone say that it would be spread across the country faster than a wild fire through the open prairie."

"I don't know, Princess DD does have a certain ring to it," Allison added.

I just shook my head, asking, "Shouldn't we start our tour of the plant." Trying desperately to change the subject and get the afternoon back on track.

"Indeed we should, DD. If you and Roy would follow us," Bo said, taking Allison's hand and leading the way.

The tour went as expected, pulping, forming, although I noticed the machines didn't press the overlapping layers as tightly as in Piermont's plants. They actually fluffed up the layers as they were blown dry. After our tour, Roy and I found a quiet corner in the break room to talk about general finance philosophies, while we waited for our guys to finish their investigations.

Evaluations finished, Roy and I met with our teams, back in the conference room. Bill led off, saying, "The situation is as we expected, Miss Drake, and mostly agrees with my initial investigation. Allison Paper is delinquent in its payments to the bank by $120,000 with a loan balance of $6,453,783. They are also sitting on an AP of approximately $110,000. The normal suppliers have stopped dealing with them or placed them in the high risk status."

"Thank you Mr. Marshal for your hard work and insight. Mr. Fahey, your report?"

"Yes ma'am, the situation here is pretty much the same as we seen before. The equipment is only in fair condition as proper maintenance has been slipping. However, the problem isn't because of a reduced maintenance staff, it's due to a lack of motivation."

"Yes, I saw the same thing on the production floor. Not quite as bad as we saw at Appellation, but a definite attitude problem. Anything else?" I added, and asked.

"No ma'am, Walter and I compiled a list of equipment specific problems. He knows what is needed to bring everything up to excellent condition," John conclude.

"Thank you. Mr. Piermont, what did you and Mr. Mathews learn about the sales department?"

"It's worse than we expected, boss. The only reason for the decline in sales is because of the action of the sales staff. It's true that some volume was lost due to healthy competition, but most of the lost volume was because of what appears to deliberate sabotage. Some major house cleaning will be required immediately. If we were buying this company today, I’d be firing just over half the staff tomorrow." As usual, Matt was certainly not holding back.

"Well, that certainly paints an interesting picture. Thank you Mr. Piermont, Mr. Mathews. Gentlemen, this is a little unusually, but would all of you wait in the lobby for a few minutes? I'd like to talk with Roy, privately for, a few minutes."

As everyone left, Bill paused and gave me a questioning look.

"It's ok Bill, we're just going to discuss negotiation tactics," I told him, easing his concerns.

Bill then smiled and closed the door.

"So, what do you think, Roy?"

"I don't know, DD. I'd say this place is worth about - twelve million. There's no way I'd be able to get a loan that size, not without using my plant for collateral," Roy complained.

"You're right on one point, Roy. This company should be worth twelve million, that's unquestionably why South Core wants it. However, no one said anything about a loan or collateral. Also, remember what I told you about your plant in Scottsboro, you own it free and clear, if you never borrow against it or use it as collateral, no one will ever take it away from you. Now about Allison Paper, the question isn't what the company should be worth, it's about the fact that South Core wants it and they've created a situation where you can steal it out from under their noses for slightly more than what you have in your cash reserve."

"And just how do I go about doing that?"

"You can do it because we know how South Core works. They'll come in here, next week, and graciously offer to take over the loan and give Allison and Beauregard something in the neighborhood of $200,000, but insisting that they pay off the $110,000 AP, leaving them with $90,000 for their trouble. Now, were I negotiating for Piermont, I'd assume all debts and offer them $500,000. Being that they are almost family you could offer them more, but I wouldn't go over One Million."

"But I don't have a million, remember $500,000 in cash reserve and $100,000 in a slush fund."

Shaking my head, I continued, "You weren't lessening when I was talking about creative financing. Let me spell it out simply, you make an offer of between $500,000 and $1,000,000 for the company. They'll be crazy to reject your offer because nothing better is going to come along before the bank forecloses. Then, from your $500,000 cash reserve you pay off the arrears at the bank of $120,000. That will appease the bank and then you start making the payments according to the established schedule. Now you have thirty to ninety days for your accountants to completely go over the books and verify the accounts and the amounts owed. After the accounts are verified you pay off the $110,000 AP, which will put you back into the good graces with the suppliers. Meanwhile you get the sales department cleaned up and go after new orders."

"What about the $500,000 to a $1,000,000 to Beauregard and Allison? I don't have it."

"But you do have one fifth of it. You just establish the term of the sale as one fifth payable at the time of the formal closing, after the lawyers do their thing. And then a payment of one fifth, none interest bearing, for the next four years on the anniversary of the formal closing."

"Let me think about this for a second." - "So, with the $120,000 to the bank, the $110,000 in AP, that would leave me with $270,000 in my cash reserve. If I offer One Million for the company that would be five payments of $200,000, spread out over four years, but only one payment of $200,000 right now. That would net me a $12,000,000 company for an initial investment of just less than my $500,000."

"Now you've got it, Roy," I said, with a smile.

With a sigh he added, "But that almost completely wipes out my cash reserve."

"That it would, temporarily. How long do you think it will take to bring your cash reserve back up to $500,000 with two plants, both running in the black?"

"I don't know, most of that $500 thou was amassed while we were running through the million in supplies that you gave me as part of the buyout of MoPaper."

"I told you 'A smart man would turn that million in supplies into two million in sales.' Are you still a smart man, Roy?"

"I'd like to think so. Why, you going to give me another million in supplies?""

"I'm not in the business of giving away money, Roy, nor am I a bank. However, being that Piermont is currently buying and distributing supplies for over fifty plants, one more won't make any difference."

"What are you saying, DD?"

"What I'm saying is, I'll arrange for you to purchase the majority of your regular supplies from Piermont at our cost, for one year or until your cash reserve is back at $500,000, whichever comes first".

"DD, that's fantastic, thank you, but what do you mean by the majority of our regular supplies?"

"Roy, the formed paper process is a little different from chemically treated, correct?" Roy nodded, as I continued. "This offer only applies to what Piermont routinely purchases. I'm not going to start buying some specialty product just for your operation."

"You're right of course, I wouldn't expect you to buy supplies that you don't use. That's still a generous offer, and I thank you, but why?"

"Two reasons, I like helping good honest people. You are honest, aren't you Roy?" Roy smiled and nodded, so I continued. "And, I haven't had the opportunity to 'stick it' to some dishonest people for at least a day."

The look on Roy's face told me he desperately wanted to ask a question. I just smiled and shook my head. After that, we discussed a couple more things that Roy needed to know, before he went about acquiring Allison Paper, then it was time for negotiations.

The negotiations were brief, Mr. Boudreaux and Allison readily accepted Roy's offer. Mr. Boudreaux would be retiring while Allison would be staying on as the plant manager.

On the way to the airport, I asked our driver if there was a department store in town. He informed me that there was and after a little detour we came to a stop in front of a Sears and Roebuck. Roy and his people wore expressions of confusion.

Bill was the only one courageous to ask, "What are we doing here, Miss Drake?"

"I need a few things," I simply replied, as the driver opened the door.

"Now?" Bill asked.

"No time like the present," I answered with a smile, as I took the driver's offered hand, to help me out, before asking, “Mr. Fahey, would you give me a hand?"

John smiled, shrugged his shoulders, and scrambled out of the limo.

Once inside I told John what I wanted and sent him in one direction while I went another. Twenty minutes later we met up and headed for the check stands. As we passed through the exterior doors, with two large bags and several smaller bags, the driver rushed to open the trunk of the limo.

"Thank you. We're ready to return to the airport now," I told the drive, as he opened the door for John and me.

It was a short trip back to Scottsboro, where we bid farewell to Roy and his staff. We were airborne fifteen minutes later and on our way to St Louis. While we were in route to St Louis, I had Bill and John get the back of the plane ready for Bob and his family. Seats were laid back, as far as they could go, and made up as beds with white sheets, small pillows, and blankets that closely matched the planes upholstery. After we landed, and just before I exited, I added the final touch, a large foil wrapped mint chocolate on each pillow.

Not a five star hotel, but we do what we can.

After John retrieved his luggage from the baggage compartment of the G1 we were on our way, back to JC.

* * * To Be Continued * * *

Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]

Chapter 9

By Penny Reed Cardon

This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite

This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.

It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.

Chapter 9

Friday, July 21, 1972

"Good morning everyone and welcome to our first 'phone in' executive staff meeting," I stated in greeting, as I opened our Friday meeting. "Before Bob and John flew to Brandon, last Wednesday evening, Bob made arrangements for the speaker phone on our conference table. The plan was that Bob, Matt, and John would be joining this morning's meeting by phone, from Brandon. It's very obvious to everyone assembled that the plans changed. I'd like to welcome both Matt and John to JC. I'd also like to acknowledge Bob's absence. He's spending some much needed time with his family. I still wanted to tryout the new phone, so we have Jerry joining us by phone from Portland. How are things in Portland, Jerry?"

"Good morning everyone," Jerry's voice reverberated from the new phone, in the middle of the conference table. "It's a lovely day here in Portland, light clouds, and a gentle wind out of the Northwest."

"Hey there Jerry, send that wind our way, it's going to be a scorcher here in JC," Tom quickly interjected.

We heard Jerry chuckle before adding, "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you Jerry, I'm sure everyone here appreciates your efforts," I replied, with a smile. "However, with Ron and Gerard joining us here in JC, we have a full house, with the exception of Bob.

"And speaking of Bob, in his absence I'll start things rolling with a brief overview of last weeks activities. For anyone who hasn't heard, we acquired 15 additional plants during last weeks buying spree. They consist of mostly news print but with a couple of chemically treated plants in the mix. In addition we've entered into a Limited Partnership agreement with 17 plant owners. We can discuss what a limited partnership means later. However if our estimate is correct, there isn't another independent or single owner, plant in the entire Northwest that is endanger of being forced out of existence. I'm sure that once that news becomes public there will be a lot of yelling in Spokane." That announcement was followed by chuckling and applause from around the table.

"Bill, if you would be so kind."

”My pleasure DD, we're still working on the break even cost for each of the newspaper plants. It's taking a bit longer than I'd estimated because of the sheer number of new plants. Of course, I'm expecting our overall cost to go down because the 13 newsprint plants in the Northwest won't have a loan payment, once the purchases are finalized.

"The situation with shipping paper to our customer's has greatly improved. We used to have shipping arrangements to all of our plants 2 days ahead of the shipment date. That meant that the Monday and Tuesday, after the fire, shipments went out as normal. That was on June 26 & 27. After that, everything came to a halt and nothing moved for 9 days as the warehouses started filling up.

"We got Mark, Shrilly, and the rest of the shipping staff set up in some office space on Tuesday and Wednesday. They knew we had to get paper moving as quickly as possible.”

"Shrilly?" I asked.

"Shrilly Richardson," Ben answered. "She was one of the 5 that volunteered to come down for 30 days to help get things organized. Shrilly flew down on Tuesday July 4th. Along with the other temporaries that flew down from Brandon. Mark drove down, as he was moving down to JC permanently. He arrived on the morning of July 5th."

Bill continued after Ben’s explanation. “Shrilly having the most seniority of the group assumed a leadership role. She came back in on Tuesday afternoon but discovered there was nothing to do, with no paperwork available. She did know that some customers could hold out longer than others. With no information available about our customers’ status, Shrilly called Matt and requested that the sales department in each region contact all the customers to check their status. After Mark was settled in his hotel, on Wednesday, he came back in to the office and jumped right in. The rest of Wednesday, Mark and Shrilly called every warehouse manager to get the status of our truck fleet and drivers. As the customer information started coming in they started arranging for trucks to be loaded and dispatched. The customers with the lowest inventory were on the top of their list.

"Thursday afternoon, July 6th, the first of our trucks started rolling. It was slow going as there were only the 6 people doing the job that was previously done by 40. Add to that, that they were doing everything by hand and mostly they were working from their own memories. Thursday they managed to arrange for paper to be shipped to almost 1% of our customers."

“1%?” I asked.

“Actually a little less than 1%, but that was just the first full day. After returning from our trip into the Northwest I found out that on Friday the 7th shipments went out to another 2% of our customers. All 6 of the folks arranging for shipping came in on Saturday and Sunday, to get ahead on the scheduling. The following Monday Ben organized what we’re calling our shipping department with Mark Johnson as the department supervisor. That day shipments were sent to the next 3% of the most in need customers and 4% on Tuesday. The volume of shipments held at about 4% for Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. With having just 6 people doing the work that used to be done by 40, that’s quite an achievement. The regional managers, which Ben had arranged for, arrived on Thursday the 13th. About half of the new hires started on Friday, and the regional managers begin their training. The daily shipments have been increasing each day this week. As of right now the shipping department is able to schedule shipments to 10 to 12% of our customers each day.”

“So as I understand it, we’re capable of sending a shipment to every customer every 8 to 10 days?” I inquired.

“That’s correct,” Bill confirmed. “Although some of them have larger warehouses and don’t require shipments that often.”

“That’s terrific, simply an outstanding job by everyone involved. Just out of curiosity, what was the shipment percentage before the fire?” I wanted to know.

“We averaged a daily shipment rate of 12% of all our customers,” Bill confirmed.

“Outstanding! A mere 30 days after the loss of our corporate offices in Brandon, moving our offices almost half way across the country, and we’re essentially fully recovered as far as moving paper is concerned. Do you have anything else Bill?”

“Just an update about your last little buying trip, up in the Northwest, DD. We spent an average $3.5 million for the 15 plants we purchased last week plus the $15 million for DeForest Paper. That’s a total of $67.5 million, leaving us with $32.5 million from the $100 million from the sale of the timber lands and sawmills. Are we planning on paying off the loans on some of the other plants with the excess? I’m only asking because it will change the overall price per ton.”

“I think we’ll wait until things stabilize a bit more. We have no idea what Alliance is going to do once they have all the details about our buying trip. It might be wise to have a little cash on-hand. Ben, how are things progressing in your arena.”

"Things are starting to settle down in the personnel office," Ben started. "As you heard we've got shipping about where they need to be. We're planning to keep the 5 temporary volunteers for another couple of weeks. Shrilly would like to stay on permanently, but we'd have to find a job for her husband."

"What's he doing now?" I asked.

"He's the 2nd shift lead in the original plant in Brandon," was Ben's reply.

“With bringing the Henderson and Memphis pants on line what openings are there going to be at the JC plant?” John asked, before any else had a chance.

“I know there’s not a 2nd shift lead position open,” Ben replied, straight faced. “There is a 1st shift lead position open.”

John chuckled as I cocked my head and smiled, looking at Ben. “You want to talk with Shrilly and see if her husband would be willing to accept the hardship of taking a 1st shift lead position?”

Ben finally smiled as he replied, “I’ll talk to her as soon as we’re done here.”

“Fine, anything else Ben?”

“As I said, most of the headquarters departments are stabilizing. I’m still working on the additional security that you want and on your Chief of Security. We’ve had a few nibbles to the newspaper ads’ we’ve place and I’ve received some resumes’. I’ll be starting interviews next week. I guess that’s about it.”

“That’s great Ben, thanks. Gerard.”

“Things in the Mid-West are reasonably quiet, with a couple of exceptions. I’ve been a bit concerned about the sudden loss of personal at the JC plant, as we’ve been starting up Henderson and Memphis, but at least I think the 1st shift lead position has been filled. I know the folks in Henderson are real excited to see the plant opening back up. My only other concern is that Sunday Bob is taking about half of my top management people. And, those that aren’t going this Sunday will be going to the Northwest the following Sunday. I know we’re growing like crazy and it’s good to see, it’s also good to give our mid level managers a little more time in the big chairs. There’s a few that I’ll be spending some extra time with, helping them grow into the job, but that’s to be expected. Oh, one last thing. I made arrangements with a flight instructor in Owosso. Like you, he recommended that I pass the written test before we start working with the plane. I’ve picked up some books and I’ve been spending every night studying them. My wife has been complaining that I’m not spending enough time with her. I proposed a solution and she accepted. So now we are both studying and we’ll be taking our exams together.”

“Wonderful, I like your solution,” I complemented. “Have you and Jerry decided who’s getting which plane?”

“I’m keeping the Piper Navajo.” We heard Jerry declare, over the speaker phone.

“Are you sure about that?” Gerard asked Jerry.

“Yes I am!” Jerry proclaimed. “With all the new plants in the Northwest, I’ll need the plane with the most get up and go.”

“Well, I guess I’ll give you that one, Jerry,” Gerard conceded. “I guess I’ll be getting the Cessna 206. Ron looks like you and I are the slow bunnies of the group.”

“That’s OK. I’ve been flying a 206 around for a while now and it gets me where I need to be just fine. Besides, it beats driving to each of my plants,” Ron declared, with a smile.

"Well, I hope the VP for the Northeast region will enjoy being a slow bunny as we already have a 206 for that region," I added to the discussion.

"You mean the 206 that Bob fly’s," ask Matt. "Won't he want that down here so he can get around?"

"We acquired 4 planes with the purchase of De Forest Paper. One is the Piper Navajo that will be staying in the Northwest. Another is the Cessna 206 that we'll be moving to the Midwest region. There were also 2 Beechcraft King Air B90's, I'll be keeping one as my personal plane and Bob will use the other," I explained.

"De Forest paper had four planes?" Ben asked.

"Yes they did," I simply stated. "Their main plant was very remotely located. But we're getting off track again. If that's everything Gerard, let's move on, Ron."

"Overall, everything in the Southeast is running well. Sales are still increasing. Although the rate of increase has slowed a bit, we’re still inline with the other sales offices in the company. I'm still going to be keeping a very close eye on them. The folks in Memphis are excited to see their loved one's coming home. We're still receiving random calls from the folks in Ridgely, wanting to know when their plant is going to re-open. I know the company line is ‘Not until we need the volume.’ But that’s starting to feel like a lie. I know the chances of us re-opening Ridgely is about 1000 – 1. Is there anything else we can officially tell these people?”

“Well, I haven’t discussed this with Ben yet, although Bob and I discussed it briefly. In a month we’ll be reopening the Glide, Oregon, plant. The plant near Walden, Oregon, will come online the month after that. I’m sure there will be a lot of transfers from the Hills Creak plant, but that will just leave openings there, that we’ll have to fill. Now, I’m not going to buy their houses here and I’m not going to buy anyone a house in Oregon, but I will offer Piermont trucks to move their personal effects, if anyone wants to relocate to where there are jobs,” I explained what Bob and I had discussed.

“Is that official, can we tell that to the folks in Ridgely and Paducah?” Ron asked.

I thought about the pros and cons for a few moments. Hoping that something wasn’t going to come back and bite me where I sit, before I answered, “Yes, that’s official. Piermont will provide transportation to anyone wanting to relocate to Oregon. That’s one trip, one way. Any trips they want to make to look things over, look at housing, or whatever, is on their own. If they end up working at Hills Creak they would have lots of time to look for a house after they move in to an apartment. I’m told that the apartments in the dormitories are actually quite nice. Would you agree Bill?”

“Yes, I would agree,” Bill replied. “The room I was staying in was furnished; it had a nice living room, a combination kitchen and dinning room, and an impressively spacious bedroom. There were some units with 2 and 3 bedrooms.”

“So the official company line is; we will pay transportation cost for anyone that wants to relocate to Oregon, in about a month. As for when we will be re-opening Ridgely or Paducah; that will happen when there is a demand for paper from those plants. I know that isn't what they want to hear, but it's the best we can do,” I explained carefully.

"I understand," Ron acknowledged. "I'll build up the relocation angle as being a really great opportunity. I guess that's all I have."

"Thanks Ron. I want you to know that we really appreciate the job you're doing. Jerry, other than crazy, how are things going in the Northwest?"

'Taking a page out of Grandma's play book, I knew that a little schmoozing during a meeting never hurts.'

Jerry chuckled before starting in on his report, "I'm not sure that crazy is the word for it, but life up here isn't dull. The original 13 plants that the region started with haven't been growing as we would like, but it's not because of poor management or employee moral. As you know it's been a struggle keeping customers. Consequently I've asked the sales staff, here in Portland sales office, to ask a few questions whenever their contacting a customer we've sold to in the past and when that customer hasn't placed an order recently. Primarily, we're asking who are they buying from and what they were offered that drew them away from us. We've found that if the questions are worded the right way and in a tone of friendship rather than in adversarial tone or sounding like an interrogation, most of the purchasing agents will openly tell us why they've changed suppliers. What we've found is that by far they've been going to Alliance, but there's no surprise there. What we have found to be surprising is that the sales people at Alliance seem to have a lot of leeway when is comes to stealing our customers. They start off by offering to undercut us by $5 per ton and some switched for just that. If the customer doesn't bite at $5 per ton the sales rep will drop the price by another $2, and so on and so on, until they reach a bottom offer of undercutting us by $15 per ton. If that doesn't sway them over they'll start in on juggling invoice dating, up to 5% off and in some cases up to 3 months out."

"That's absolutely ridiculous," Matt exclaimed. "How on earth can they keep track of how much to charge which customer. Not to mention when they're going to be paid and how much to expect to be paid for the paper they've shipped."

"Well according to our sources, after 2 to 3 months Alliance starts bumping up how much they charge on the invoice," Jerry went on. "Just a little bit with each invoice until they're charging their normal price per ton. As long as the purchasing agents and the account payable accountants don't talk with each other, nobody's the wiser. By the way, Alliance's normal price is about $20 per ton higher than our normal price."

"That's not entirely surprising," I replied. "We know they're underhanded in their dealings with the competition and with their suppliers. It doesn't surprise me that they don't treat their customers any different. The fact that their normal price is higher than ours doesn't surprise me either. Our research showed us that when they buy a plant all the equipment is replaced. Therefore they must be carrying a substantial debt on each plant."

"I wonder what they do with the old equipment?" John off handedly asked.

"Scrapping it or possibly selling it dirt cheep overseas," Gerard speculated.

“I’m sure they wouldn’t be selling it to anyone who they would consider as being competition,” Ron added.

‘That might be why we haven’t been able to sell the forming machine out of Ridgely’ I thought to myself.

“What they’re doing with the old equipment doesn’t really matter to us, what does matter is that they’re installing new equipment. Their labor cost may be lower than ours, but their operating overhead will be higher because of the debt of the installation. Like us, they may have some plants that are debt free to compensate, but knowing that their normal price is that much higher than ours leaves us with a lot of potential customers,” I concluded. “Is there anything else Jerry?”

“Only that some of the plant owners are asking when we’re going to take over so they can leave. Obviously, from the sounds of it people will be arriving on Sunday to begin that process,” Jerry stated.

“That’s correct, Jerry,” I started. “However, Bob won’t start assigning management people to the new plants until Monday afternoon. He and I have other business to attend to Monday morning.”

“You’re coming to Portland next week?” Jerry asked.

John chuckled for a moment before I could reply.

“Yes I am, but let’s save that for future business. Moving on, Matt, how are things in sales?”

“Currently sales are moving along very well. Because of the regional sales offices there was almost no impact due to the fire in Brandon. By the Friday after the fire we had rented enough office space and had enough phone lines hooked up to put the Brandon sales office back on line, in full force. Quite a few of them have been concerned about loosing their jobs, wondering if the moving of the headquarters to JC meant moving the corporate sales offices to JC as well. I told everyone that until they hear it from me; they’re to do their jobs as they have been.

“As for the art department, we’ve kept them intact as well. It took a little longer to recover the lost artwork for the new notebook covers, but the team pulled together and reproduced everything that was lost. The artwork for the new notebooks has been sent to Bloomington and they started production of the covers yesterday.”

“That’s terrific news Matt,” I complemented. “I was wondering if we were going to make the deadline for the notebook covers. It’s great to hear how well the team stepped up and pulled together. Just for my own information, what are the notebook cover designs for this coming semester?”

“Well, over the years we’ve discovered that a few designs are really popular so Flower Power is being brought back as one of this semesters designs, that is flower power was the theme but the design is new. Research has also told us that featuring one of the currently popular bands or singing groups goes over big. This semester we’re featuring The Jackson 5, and next semester they will be replaced with Karen and Richard Carpenter.

"The others in the top ten this semester is a group of Kittens playing. Also, there’s a design featuring an assortment of Puppies. There’s a Paisley design, along with a design with 6 mythical Fairies, a collection of Muscle Cars, an artist rendering of a sea battle with a Pirate Ship, and a picture of the Night sky featuring several Constellations.

"Lastly, one of our artists, Tiffany, said she’d never seen a comic strip as a notebook cover. Another one countered saying, ‘Who would want to see the same cartoon every day.’ Tiffany replied with ‘What if the dialog bubbles were blank? They could make up their own comic every day.’ We all thought that sounded pretty good but what comic strip would be popular enough to make the cut. Eventually, it was decided that Peanuts was one of the most popular comics out there. So I contacted Charles Schulz and pitched the idea. After some discussion it was agreed, Mr. Schulz would do a 5 strip layout without dialog as a contest. Anyone can fill in the dialog bubbles and send a copy of the cover to us, by Thanksgiving. We will forward them to Mr. Schulz who will pick the 5 best. First prize will be $250 and Mr. Schulz will publish their comic. Second prize will be $100, along with 3 Third place prizes of $50.”

“Matt – that’s fantastic. I’ve never heard of anything like that being done. That’s what I call being innovative,” I praised. “Pass my complements on to the entire art department. Anything else?”

“I actually think this counts as new business, but several of our artists have suggested we should get into the market of the 3” X 5” mini spiral notebooks. The demand for them is climbing, in all markets from grade school to business, according to our research. I just don’t know if our existing spiral binders can do a 3X5 or if we have the excess capacity to produce them,” Matt added.

"That's an interesting question, Matt," I added. "Actually, that's 3 interesting questions. The first, should we produce 3X5 mini spirals? I would have to say yes. As to the 3rd question, do we have the capacity to run them? To answer that question I'd have to defer to Bob. However, in Bob's absence I'll have to make a couple of calls while we break for lunch. Now getting back to the 2nd question, will the existing binders produce them? To answer that I would have to ask John."

"I know there was some adjustment capability in the magazines on the 6130's, I just don't remember how much. Normally I'd go refer to the manual in my office, but right now I'm an engineer without an office. I do know who has that information and I can give them a quick call during lunch," John apologized, and explained.

"Looks like we'll both be working through lunch John, anything else Matt?" I pressed on, not making any reference to John's office at this time. We would discuss it later.

"That's everything, except that we've got almost a hundred sales people waiting on Bill and the new price for newsprint," Matt concluded.

"As soon as we have the numbers and DD gives her final approval, you'll be the first one I call," Bill assumed Matt.

"Thanks Matt, Bill. You're up John."

"Well, I haven't started my inspection tour of all the company's production plants yet, someone's been keeping me busy,” he stated, with a smile. “But I had contacted the chief engineer at most of the plants the week before and after the fire in Brandon. At that time they reported that everything was well in their plants. As for the 14 recently acquired plants, I’d say they are about 50 / 50. Some of the owners were cutting costs by cutting maintenance. The other owners knew that without proper maintenance the machines wouldn’t perform like they should. Of those 14 plants, 4 have some very old, slow, formers. Although, I think they would be ideally suited to run the novelty napkins and some of the Appalachian children’s products. Most of the others are comparable with Greenfield and Brandon. A couple of the plants have faster equipment, not quite as new as JC or Concord, more like the equipment in Gorham. I guess that's it for my report on the plants."

"Thank you John. Tom, how’s are things going in purchasing?”

“It appears that we’re a little understaffed again. With all the new plants that have been added it looks like we could use another 3 to 4 people, to handle the additional workload. As for supplies to the existing plants, we've been struggling to keep things rolling. There were some shortages of chemicals to a few plants causing them to slow down for a few days. However with the new people that Ben hired we’ve been able to keep supplies flowing to all of the plants. We’re still watching the new people closely while teaching them the in’s and out’s of purchasing and supply chain management. Everything should be settled and flowing smoothly by the middle of next month, including supplies to all the new plants.

“I’ve contacted Jonathan Roberts, as you suggested, and he jumped at the opportunity to provide chips to our Northwest plants. We’ll be buying all the chips he can produce at the price you and he discussed, for the first year. The price will be reevaluated yearly based upon his costs, not ours, and product availability. With those arrangements he was more than willing to sign a 10 year contract. Mr. Roberts also passed on the names and contact information for another 6 independent logging companies who he thought would be willing to provide chips and logs to Piermont under the same arrangements.”

“Excellent Tom,” I complemented. “I knew that Mr. Roberts was very displeased with one of his other customers. I’m pleased that you were able to work out an arrangement that is agreeable for everyone. Do you have anything else?”

“Just one more item, I was surprised with the arrangement you made with Roy Blu. Just to make sure things there don’t get out of hand, I’ll be handling all his transactions personally,” Tom concluded.

“That great Tom, if there’s any problem with Roy let me know immediately and I’ll take care of it. It’s good to hear how easy you make purchasing sound. I know that keeping the supplies and equipment, for a company this size, flowing is in reality no easy task. You’ve done an amazing job under the most trying times.

“All of you, without each and every one of you Piermont would not be the company that it is today. In fact, without the dedication of each and every one of you Piermont would have never have survived the devastation that the loss of our corporate headquarters could have been. Thank you all.” I paused for a moment to let the sincerity of my last comment sink in.

“I see that it’s almost lunch time, so why don't we break for lunch. Nancy has arranged for something, I'm not sure what, as we've just started sampling from the various local establishments. Sorry Jerry, but you're on your own."

"No problem Boss, I'm all set here, I've got pastrami on rye with sauerkraut. Did you know that Tony deliveries?" Jerry inquired.

"No I didn't, how did you manage that?"

"The first time I went to the diner I told Tony that Darla Anne Drake had recommended his out of the way establishment. After that, he's treated me as if we'd been friends forever. And you're right, the French toast is heavenly."

"That it is, enjoy your lunch Jerry. Just call back in when you're ready, we’ll be here," I informed Jerry. "The rest of you are welcome to stay here and eat, I've got a few calls to make and then I'll be back to join you."

I got up, picked up my pencil and notepad, and headed for the door and the executive suites lobby, with John close behind. Ellen Defranko was at the receptionist desk, being that Nancy was taking notes for the staff meeting.

"Good afternoon Miss Drake, is there something I can do for you?" Ellen asked, as I approached her desk.

"There is Ellen, would you get Peter Emos, in Franklin, for me. After I'm finished with Peter I'd like to speak with Nick Nolan in Evansville and then Ronald Starling in Little Rock. Oh, I'll be at the desk in the library office."

"DD, which office can I use for a little while," John asked.

"You’re welcome to any one of the three empty offices, here in the executive suites," I replied, while pointing out the three offices I was referring to. “Pick which one you’d like and it’s yours anytime you’re here.”

I'd just gotten comfortable behind the desk, in the slowly growing library, when the phone rang. After a short visit with each of the three plant managers and I was heading back to my office, thanking Ellen along the way. We continued talking about the new plants in the Northwest through lunch and beyond. When nothing new was being introduced I brought the discussion to a close by revisiting Matt's proposal to produce the 3X5 mini spiral notebooks.

"It appears that there is some unused capacity on our spiral binding machines," I stated. “According to the plant managers, we're only utilizing approximately 65% of their 2.1 million notebooks per month capacity, of course, that's a yearly average. From July through mid December they're pushed to the max. So from January through June we have quite a bit of available capacity. The next question is for John, will the 6130's produce a 3X5 notebook?"

"I called Lenny Burke and had him check the 6130 manual," John started. "We can adjust the width of the magazines some, but they'll only go down to about 8 inches. The actual measurement is so many Millimeters, it's a European thing. I guess it doesn't really matter to us, but it won't do a 3X5. Although he did say that the length can be adjusted to 14 inches, so we could do something in legal size if we wanted."

"That's interesting," Matt thought aloud. "A legal size spiral bound notebook, may have some possibilities. Would that be with the spiral across the top or along the side?"

"I'm not sure," John replied. "It wasn't the 3 X 5 and that is what I was asking about, so I didn't inquire any further. I can call Lenny back and ask."

"Yes, that would be great. It doesn't have to be today, just when you have a chance," Matt replied, while obviously deep in thought.

"I know that look, Matt. Something shook the hamster loose and the gears are turning. What are you thinking?" I asked.

"Nothing I want to discuss right now," Matt admitted. "Just a few crazy ideas that I’ll need to research time into. Then I’ll let you know if they’re worth discussing."

"OK Matt, take your time. So far all of the products you and your design group have come up with have been stellar performers." I paused a few moments before continuing. “Gentlemen, at this time I’d like to inform you that we’ve been contacted by 5 additional independent paper manufactures, in the Northwest.”

Everyone had a stunned look on their faces, as Jerry exclaimed. “I didn’t think there were any more independent manufactures left in the Northwest.”

"Well, they are technically in the Northwest, but they're a little farther North," I replied.

"Farther North? You mean -" Matt started.

"That's right," I interrupted. "They're in Canada. Piermont Paper is going international."

"I knew we'd be going international someday. I just didn't expect it to be today," Bill said, somewhat stunned.

"Well, Monday actually. Sunday I'll be taking a small group up to do the evaluations and talk with the owners," I informed them.

After the mild laughter died down, I continued, "So, Bill, I'm going to need two accountants at the JC airport at Noon Sunday. I've already talked with John about a couple of engineers."

"Are the accountants going to need to speak and read French?" Bill asked.

"I'm not sure. They're all in British Columbia, so I think everything will be in English. I'll have Nancy check when she makes the appointments."

"Not to be the voice of doom, but why are we looking at these five plants?" Matt asked.

"We're looking at them for the same reason we didn't ignore the independent companies in the Northwest, the one's that didn't want to sell out that is. Instead we set up the partnerships. It's true, we buy out companies if it's a good deal and we've taken advantage of someone else's underhanded tactics. But, Piermont does not force other companies out of business and that’s what would happen to these companies if we do nothing. That's what puts us a step ahead of the competition," I stated.

"Doesn't that also put us in a position to be taken advantage of by someone who is underhanded?" Ben asked.

"Yes it does, Ben, and we must always be on our guard. However, the rewards are there if we keep on doing what we've been doing."

We discussed the ramifications of expanding into Canada a little longer before I adjourned the meeting. I left Nancy to make the arrangements for hotel rooms in Portland for Sunday night. We would also be making stops in Vancouver, Princeton, Penticton, Kelowna, and Kamloops, and would need ground transportation at each of those airports.

I don’t normally do it, but after our weekly meeting and the meeting after the meeting, I headed for the JC airport and home. I hadn’t been home since we left for the French Rivera. A lot has happened since then and I was really looking forward to a little relaxation time. Roughly 2 & ½ hours later I was circled the house twice and then lined up on our runway. I wasn't sure, because I was concentrating on my banking and air speed, but I think there were several people on the front porch as I sped past.

I was making my way back down the runway, to the tie-down apron, when I noticed several people coming from the house. As I got closer, I recognized all of them, Mom, Judy, Susan, and Ricardo. I was a little surprised to see Judy home so early on a Friday evening. After I'd shut down both engines Susan opened the door and invited everyone to look around.

"Hello everyone, what do you think of my new toy?" I asked over my shoulder, as I was finishing the shutdown checklist.

"This is very nice," Mom said, while sliding into one of the seats, in the main cabin.

"A little cramped compared to grandma's G1," Judy said, sliding in across the aisle from Mom. "But the seats are comfortable," she added.

"I told you it was nice," Susan stated. "Although, this is different than the one we were using a week ago."

"I'm sure the rental was pretty new. This one is 5 years old," I explained as I exited the cockpit. "Still nice and she handles just like her little sister."

"That appeared to be a fairly tight loop you made, circling the house. Have you buzzed a runway like Mr. Davidson did?" Susan asked.

"No, I haven't buzzed any runways and I haven't tried standing her on her tail. I did open her up all the way just to see what she could do," I confessed.

"What's buzzing the runway?" Ricardo asked.

"That's flying the length of the runway, with the wheels up, 20 feet above the runaway, at 200 knots," I explained.

"That sounds like fun," Ricardo exclaimed. "What's standing on her tail?"

"When you get to the end of the runway, you pull back on the yoke, push the throttles to the limit, and shoot almost straight up," I explained.

"WOW, when can we do that?" Ricardo eagerly asked.

I smiled, patted his head, and replied, "When you get your license you can do all the stunts you want."

"Ah shucks, Mom's never going to let me fly," he bemoaned.

I chuckled to myself as I pulled my suitcase and garment bag out of the baggage compartment and we all headed for the house.

I'd gotten home early enough in the day that I dropped my bags, changed clothes, grabbed a couple of apples, and went to see Emily. She perked up and trotted over to see me as I approached the corral. She greedily devoured the first apple, but took her time with the second. I had just enough time for a short ride and quickly saddled Emily and we headed for the far end of the runway, at a gentle pace. 45 minutes later found Emily back in her stall and I was brushing her down. I had just finished with Emily when I heard what sounded like Auntie’s Cessna 206 setting down. I saw Auntie entering the house as I was leaving the barn.

As I was entering the house I heard Auntie asking, “So, who’s visiting?”

“Visiting?” Susan asked. “No visitors, just family.”

“Well then, where did that King Air come from?” Auntie wanted to know.

“The King Air is mine, Auntie,” I said, as I walked up behind her.

Startled, Auntie spun around. Instantly recognized and threw her arms around me, “Darla, it’s so good to see you. I’ve missed having you around here. How long can you stay, what’s with this plane?”

Before I had a chance to answer Rosa announced that dinner was ready.

As was customary at the ranch, dinner sounded like a board meeting. Auntie told us about her oil company, and the status of each drill site. Susan brought me up to speed on her inspections. The reason Susan was home for the weekend was that grandma needed a break from running Ameri-Moore and Susan hopped a ride on the jet. What surprised me was the reason Judy was home so early on a Friday. Actually, she’d been at the ranch for the last 2 days. She didn’t say much at dinner and it wasn’t until we were getting ready for bed that I had a chance to talk with her privately, by inviting myself into her room.

"So, what's going on, Judy?"

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t give me that, and don’t look at me with those puppy dog eyes. They don’t work on me, only on mother and auntie. I know you’re working at the Textile Division Headquarters, like you did last summer. So why did you come home Wednesday night?”

It was some time before Judy looked up and answered me, “I just couldn’t take the isolation and threats anymore,” she reluctantly replied.

“Threats! What threats?” I demanded.

“They started after we got back from the Riviera,” she sadly said, as she retrieved an attaché case from her closet. “They were subtle notes at first, but as the weeks went by they got to be more and more threatening.” Judy handed me a folder she’d pulled out of the attaché case.

I started reading through the different notes, some were hand written, some typed, the one in the back of the folder were created by pasting words and letters onto the page. The latest were the most threatening.

As I was looking through the notes, Judy continued. “Remember last year I told you that everyone suspected that you were secretly orchestrating the layoffs from behind the scenes. The latest rumor is that I’m your spy, so nobody will talk with me. Well, except for 1 exceptionally kind lady. She sort of took me under her wing last summer and helped me in so many ways. She’s the one that gave me this.” Judy was holding what appeared to be an inter-office memo.

“You may not know, but after we got back Grandma took me into Mr. Edwards office and asked that I work under each of the department heads for 3 months, to get a better feel for the division as a hole. Mr. Edwards seemed a little reluctant but agreed to do as Grandma requested. I’ve been working for Mr. Kelleher, the Farm Production Supervisor. I've been collecting, organizing, and condensing the various reports he receives ever week. The reports are supposed to come in every Monday. It takes me 3 days to consolidate all the information so Mr. Kelleher will have the results for his Friday morning staff meeting.

"Everything started out well, Mr. Kelleher was happy with the work I was doing and I was learning a lot about farms and the problems they’ve been having. Then some of the reports started coming in on Tuesday instead of Monday. Then some weren’t coming in until Wednesday. I was staying late 4 and 5 hours every Wednesday and Thursday, just to get the reports finished. The last month I've been working long hours, running myself raged just to get Mr. Kelleher the reports he needs. Last week some of the reports didn't come in until Thursday. I didn't know what to do. I went to my friend and asked her what I should do. That's when she handed me this memo."

Judy sadly handed me the page she'd been holding out of reach, say, "I can't tell you were this came from, I promised her I wouldn't reveal her identity."

It did appear to be an inter-office memo with the expected header information, date, recipients, and so on. The body of the memo was short and to the point.

Attention
Until further notice:
All correspondence or information going to any of the intern's working in the Division Office Complex must go through my office.

John Edwards

Exec VP

After reading the memo and thinking about it for a few moments I asked, "Have you heard anything suspicious about any of the interns?"

"I haven’t heard of any problem with them, there are about a dozen interns working in the office building," Judy replied. "They also refer to me as an intern because I'm not actually on the divisions’ payroll."

"I see. Have you talked with Grandma since you came home?"

"No I haven't, not yet. I didn't know exactly what to say."

"Judy, you disappeared from work for two days without talking to anyone. That's considered a ‘No Call, No Show’. If you were working for Piermont that would be grounds for immediate termination, that is if you weren't unconscious and in a hospital. However, this could also be considered extenuating circumstances," I said, holding up the memo as I headed for the door. "Along with the other notes you’ve been getting. Come with me, we need to call Grandma."

The closest phone was in the upstairs kitchen, being used so seldom these days I thought we'd have it to ourselves. As I suspected, the kitchen was empty. Picking up the phone I dialed Grandma's ranch house, or was it her mansion.

"Hello Darla Anne, it’s so good to here from you. Where are you today, still in Jefferson City?" Grandma asked, after her house keeper told her who was calling.

“Hello Grandma. No, I needed to clear my head and get some fresh air; I’m at the ranch with everyone else, including Judy.”

“Judy’s there, with you? Thank goodness. Mr. Edwards left a message with my secretary in Portland on Thursday afternoon, saying that she didn’t show up for work Thursday morning. The message went on to say that they sent someone to Judy’s apartment to check on her but there was nobody there. I was out of the office on Thursday and didn’t get the message until I was leaving Friday afternoon, with Susan. Is everything alright, she isn’t hurt or anything?”

“No, no, she’s fine, but it's urgent that we talk with you. May we come see you tomorrow afternoon?”

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen the family, so why don’t I come over there. The three of us can discuss Judy’s problem and then I’ll stay for dinner. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like a great plan Grandma. We'll see you tomorrow,” I replied. A few minutes later we said our goodbyes’ and Judy and I went downstairs to join the rest of the family.

* * * To Be Continued * * *

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