Part 1

Beginnings

My name is James Reed. When I was 26 years old, I came into a hell of a lot of money. It was legal, by the way. I had an uncle in Iowa that I hadn't heard from in years. He had won the Power ball for over two hundred million dollars. Two years later he died and it turns out I was the only relative left. By that time, with his investments, it was worth $275 million.

So suddenly, due to no action on my part, I had a mountain of money. My brand new money manager told me to get a bigger house but it seemed silly - I already had a house and liked it very much. It was on the river I loved and had everything I needed. No one knew of the money, except an old friend of mine, one of my college professors.

The investment company handling the money meets with me every month in Grand Rapids. The meeting usually lasts for a weekend. My financial manager for the investment company was Mark Braxton.

Mark seemed like a nice enough guy, but he wanted me to spend, party and enjoy but I wanted to continue my life pretty much as I had been living. He also seemed too friendly with any woman that crossed his path. Oh well, I didn't have to like him.

The income alone from the money was enough to equip a damn army. The taxes were heavy but I would not get a bigger house. Hell, the money manager, Mark Braxton wanted to do anything to cut into the government's share of my money. I knew he was getting one percent yearly of what his company managed but it made no difference to me. I was never going broke. Not in my lifetime.

The commission was not any big deal, except that the investment company treated me like a god. I didn't care if he got one percent of $500 million or one percent of $300 million (it turns out Mark did think it was a big deal! I guess two million meant a little more to him than to me).

I told everyone at the investment company to call me James, but they called me sir until I told them the next time any one in their company called me sir I would find another investment company. Every one now calls me James. Mark calls me James. The cute receptionist calls me James. Even the janitor calls me James. (I bet if they had a damn guard dog, it would call me James too!)

Keep in mind, good people, I was basically happy. I had everything I needed... well almost. I did not have a good wife. I did not have any children. So I was lonely at times. So I was lonely a lot! But I had a good job, good friends, and a great river to fish. I was a high school History teacher in Baldwin, a small town in the upper part of the lower peninsula of Michigan and really liked my job.

History had always been a passion for me and teaching was fun. It was rewarding to see a few faces light up when I would tell them some of the stories from different periods of history. Of course most of them wouldn't light up even if you popped a flash bulb in their eyes. Hmmm... I wonder if a flash bang would work. I guess not, those are for really bad people, most of these students were just inert. Oh well!

The first summer after I acquired the money, I went to Alaska. I paid $6,000 for a week of fly-in fishing. It was great. I was flown by helicopter to five different rivers. The fishing was out of this world.

Except there were no close friends to laugh when I fell down in the cold water, no one to have a drink after a good fish was landed or that night in the lodge, and no one to kid me about the one that got away. (Try talking to a fish you caught about the one that got away - not a damn bit of sympathy!) There was no one to talk with about life and the vast hereafter (I know, I know, but the fish weren't listening.) Fishing is an obsession and a solitary pursuit but friends do make it better.

So the money was invested. And the gains were invested. And I was making more money. Jesus, it was over $350 million now! It seemed a shame it was just getting bigger and not doing something good. That changed in late June two years after I got the money.

Of course, the change was a woman, what else? Beverly Capstan was her name - she had been in several of my history classes. She called and asked to see me; school had ended in the first part of June. This happened frequently, kids would call wanting a letter of recommendation. I assumed Beverly wanted the same thing: a letter of recommendation for college or for a job. I looked over my notes for all the kids who had graduated. She was third out of 81. Hey, it's a small town!

I knew Beverly had applied for Ferris State University in Big Rapids. I also knew she had been accepted. So, what did she want with me? She was due Friday afternoon so that day I tied some flies for the river, changed the line and leader on an old fly reel I used as a back up, had a beer, and fished for a while. She showed up at one o'clock just as I was ready to prepare lunch.

"Hello, Beverly. I am grilling fish caught fresh this morning for lunch. I also have a green salad, sliced tomatoes, and corn on the cob. For drinks, diet Pepsi for you, and a beer for me."

"Thank you, Mr. Reed. May I help with anything?"

"Hey, I am cooking out of doors. I never need help cooking out of doors."

I had taught this girl for four years in high school. I had never really looked at her. I mean looked! She was a student. She was female. She was not to be touched. Well, she was no longer a student. But does that change anything? Hmmm!

We would be eating at my picnic table in full view of the road and any one that might pass by. Beverly was 18 years old; she was not the best looking girl in the class, but she was a long, long way from being the ugliest. Also it seemed the ones that looked the hottest had the IQ of... well actually a little better than the fish I had caught that morning. Between bites, I looked at my former student.

Beverly was cute. She was not a beauty. She was attractive. Age and knowledge would add considerably to her appeal. Her dark brown hair surrounded her oval face. Nice cheek bones, eyes as blue and warm as a summer day, full lips. She was 5'5'' tall. Maybe a hundred twenty-five pounds? As I remembered from the swimming parties in the river, she had a nice shape. Again more average than lush. She was going to be an average woman. But then I guess except for the money I was a pretty average guy myself.

Beverly started with "I am going to Ferris State University in the fall. I have enough scholarship money to pay for school. I don't have enough money for a dorm room and I don't have the money to get a car so I can drive back and forth."

Now this was a different problem. "Oh?"

"I need a job, either in Big Rapids so I can stay in a dorm, or here in Baldwin so I can drive back and forth."

"Beverly, what do you want me to do?"

"I don't know anyone in Big Rapids, and I was hoping you might know someone who has a job I could get."

Now I knew the problem; I did know some people in Big Rapids. There were some nice folks and some... not so nice. The ones I knew that had the open jobs were the not so nice ones. Baldwin has damn few jobs at all.

Baldwin was a hard scrabble town; every one hustled for a living. Any job she could get here or in Big Rapids would be minimum wage. And the college town had all those students looking for jobs. I did not see what I could do for her.

So again, there was the question: "What do you want me to do?"

The fish was ready. I set up paper plates and served the food. We sat at the table where anyone and everyone could see us. We ate and talked. She sipped the diet Pepsi and I sipped my Damnation Ale. Hey, 7% alcohol can be fun!

"If you could get me a job, it would be great. I would always be thankful."

"You really need to live near the school Beverly. Driving back and forth even if it is only 50 miles will be a problem. Also, your grades will suffer if you work."

"I can't go to college without working." I could see tears in her eyes. "And there is no one else I can ask."

I saw a glimmer of an idea off in the distance. As ideas go it looked weak, but I needed to talk to my money manager, Mark, before I could go too far with it.

"Beverly, I am, or was, your teacher. There is a place that will hire you even without me asking. The Swan hires dancers."

"I know, I was there already, the owner says I can work there but..." The tears crept down her face. "I would have to dance nude and I have to let him..."

This was not news to me. I knew Sam Bly. He was an ass but he stayed legal, just barely. His dancers were all over 18, too young to drink but old enough to work in bars. I guess he had told her about the lap dances and the back rooms.

"You can borrow the money."

"I want to be a teacher. And you know what teachers make. I just don't want to have those big payments after I get out of school."

"About Bly, if nothing else comes along, will you work for him?"

"If I have to, I will. But I will not have sex with him or the men in that place."

I sensed an iron core of pride inside this woman. There was a remaining question I had to ask before I could go any farther with this conversation. "Beverly, if and I do mean IF I can arrange something for you, what do I get out of it?" I was truly curious about what she would say.

"Mr. Reed, if you make it possible for me to go to college I will do whatever you ask."

Now, this was an interesting statement. I lived in a small town. I dated a woman in Grand Rapids, a good 90 minutes each way. I could only get there on weekends and not every weekend. She was okay. I definitely was not in love and marriage was out of the question. Hell, she was great in bed! I got all I needed. I was ready to ask a question I never thought I would ask any female.

"What if I asked you to let me arrange for your college? Anything and everything you need until you complete your studies, what would you do for me?"

"Are you asking me to sleep with you? How often, where, when? What about boys I would meet at school? Birth control? What happens if my daddy finds out? He will kill you!"

I could suddenly see all kinds of problems with this idea. I actually did not know what I was talking about. I decided to put her on hold.