Chapter 124

“Mr. Dent,” I hesitated, gave it a think and said, “Do you know an Honest civil rights attorney?”

“What do you mean by honest?”

“One who won’t run to my board and ‘spill the beans.’”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” He looked at his wife and said, “Lorna?” then he said to me, “Do you have a dollar?” I nodded.

Mrs. Dent said, “Yes?”

“Put on your ‘professional hat,’ Tyche needs advice.”

The transformation was clear. As she walked away from her son, she ‘shifted’ from mother to ‘officer of the court.’

“Tyche, hand her the dollar.”

I did.

Mr. Dent said, “Mrs. Dent. You are retained.” He turned to me and said, “Have you a place of privacy?”

I nodded.

“Mrs. Dent,” I said, “Would you care to take a ride?” I nodded at the Sandy.

When we landed, she said, “That doesn’t give us much time. Marshal your documents and allies. I’ll see you Friday, the 11th. Come along, dear ... we have work.” She took Mr. Dent by the hand and stopped, “Thank you for the flight, Tyche. I always wondered what Sam did during the war.”

“Seven?” “Hi ... Friday the 11th, 2:00pm.”

“Junior?” “Hi ... Friday the 11th, I’ll need you and your General Admiral outfit, please. Two pm at the Wainscot building.”

“What’s up, Tyche?”

“I’m taking back my business.”

“Ooo ... taking names and kicking butt.”

The Board meeting was just getting underway when our party materialized in the Reception area ... we were quite a shock to the young lady at the desk. Since no one was expecting problems ... why would their be, the Board had been operating in a manner to pay the least for labor and put enormous profit in the hands of the Board. Father passed his board seat to son for nearly one hundred years ... with no sign of displeasure or censure from Flintkote ... adequate monies having been forwarded to the conglomerate ... Flintkote International.

We’re big ... how big? I have no idea.

Be that as it may ... the Board was rudely interrupted in their deliberations.

“Who the hell are you? Get out!”

“Flintkote International ... and ‘get out’ is exactly what you will be doing. I own this company ... it is privately held ... no stock ... no bonds ... no golden parachutes.”

“Prove it!”

“Junior?”

“Middle Ages?”

“How about Boston Harbor, December 16th 1773?”

“A tea party. Tyche ... you have a nasty streak ... I love it.”

She was back ... alone.

“???”

“They decided Mexican Texas about 1825 was a better fit.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Flintkote Farms needs a new Board. Who should we ask,” that was directed at Alice.

Like Twins... “Naomi at Whataburger.”

Seven said, “Yup...”

She got an untwins look.

“Two likes her.”

On the bike ride in the morning...

“DING!”

“Welcome to Whataburger ... Hi.”

“We need to speak to your mom and dad.”