Chapter 41

Daddy is the Assistant Dean of Graduate Studies...”Record it,” is his motto. “Write it down,” was right in there with it. When the LEO (Law Enforcement Officer) said, ‘I don’t care what the Judge said, this isn’t over,’ I said, “What’s your name?” The fool told me ... I wrote it down.

“What?” spluttered the cop.

I whipped out my phone, scrolled through the contacts and took his picture ... when I found the Judge’s name I hit send...

“Judge Williamsen.”

“Selene Dent. Got a minute for a question?”

He remembered me, most men do, “Sure.”

I played the recording.

“Is the officer present?”

“Yes,”

“Let me speak to him,” he said.

Of course I put it on speaker.

The Judge proceeded to give the cop holy hell...”Enforcement ... Law enforcement. The law is what I say it is ... not what you THINK it should be!” and a lot more. In the end the entire LEO staff was ‘sentenced’ to attending a class on their duties ... and being tested for understanding the subject.

Never again was the ‘I thought I was right’ idea going to work ... thinking was mostly forbidden.

Pissed off cop. I got glared at. He came within a blink of pitching my phone in the river.

“Officer ... throwing my phone in the river woiuld get you suspended pending an investigation.”

That got another glare ... he’d lost a battle ... but the war was still on.

‘Careful... ‘ I thought. One thing about it ... he’d never catch me alone ... ever. Daddy would see to that.

I’ll never be alone again ... bodyguards, companions, drivers. I was past wealthy before the ‘incident.’ With His money added to what I was in line to receive ... beside ravaging my body ... That Man had ruined my freedom.

“Get over it,” daddy said.

‘Yes, Selene,’ I thought, ‘Get over it.’

The officer left ... he had a class to attend.

When the body was reported, the excavation stopped. Always ... in the North American Continent a body is of prime importance.

The professor was as likely to bury a discovered body as to report it.

Now that the formalities had been observed we continued.

The gang explored to the cut east of the school. No one had noticed the entrance ... this was full forest ... declared ‘non cut’ early in the establishment of the city ... medium sized anaqua, ashe juniper, maple and cherry intermixed with large ashe juniper, cedar elm, live oak, sugarberry, and persimmon with a rather healthy ground cover. I suppose had gold been discovered in quantity the timber would have been clear-cut regardless of regulation or enforcement.

Any vapor rising from the cracks would have dispersed through the forest.

Such a healthy forest needs a lot of hydration ... Walnut Creek supports a well watered plain, likely left over from the same post Ice Age flooding that caused the Colorado.

And ... of course, I pointed at the embankment across the two track and said, “What about over there?”

“Huh?”

“Could the cave continue ... that’s the wrong word ... this side is the continuation ... could the rest of of the cavern be west of here?”

That required the University Geology Department, several weeks of classes and not a few corings to discover that, No ... the cut of the cliff was such that the rushing water had eaten away the bedrock at this very spot. Perhaps the initial contact was a battleship sized boulder carried along by the torrent ... iceberg? Too many suppositions. The cave was from this face only.

Well ... I’d tried. Something with my name on it would be so cool.

Instead the cavern acquired the sobriquet Bud Airfield Archaeological Site and the damn thing is going on the Protected List as the Oldest Human Occupational Site in the North American Continent and my name isn’t even going to be mentioned!

What a RIP!

I have to move my home and pay for the move... 30 days! Bud is a HELICOPTER Field and Bud can stay!!

Oh ... wait ... there’s more.

The POWER LINES to the site are to be replaced ... wait for it ... Down Blue Bluff Road ... in the landing pattern of my ultralite field.