Chapter 22

David and June met with Chuck Denver; David paid the divorce attorney's retainer, and they agreed that Denver would extract his fee and return David's retainer out of the divorce settlement. When asked, June told them that she hadn't signed a prenuptial agreement. David also informed Denver about the danger June faced and the plot to lure June and her daughter out of the compound, including her husband's desired results if the plot succeeded.

"Can you prove these allegations?" Denver asked.

"Of course not," David said. "As I told you, the information came to us from an anonymous informant. Can you force Wilson's attorneys to do the depositions in the compound?"

He shrugged but said, "Probably."

"Should June accept service of the divorce papers?"

"Sure. That will get me involved."

"Okay," David said. "I'll leave you two to talk. June can tell you everything you need to know to win, some of which probably isn't any of my business."
David left them, retired to his office and phased out. He connected with Wilson at a resort hotel lounge having a drink with a beautiful woman. David reached out and toppled Wilson's drink into his lap. When Wilson jumped, he bumped the table, and David toppled the woman's drink into her lap. Chortling silently, he returned to his body.

The cocktail party after the meeting was still in progress when David strolled into Darla's great room. Nora had joined the crowd, David noticed, but it was Grace who spotted him first. She hurried across the room to meet him.

"It's yea, David. Unanimous," she said looking overjoyed.

"That's good to hear," David said with a grin.

"Darla charmed all of them, and the stories she told about you made them believe you can do no wrong."

"Humph," David said. "Not good. I'll throw money at this, and then walk away from it."

"Yeah, sure," Grace said. "And turtles fly."

"I'm serious, Grace. The tender offer will establish the policy necessary to turn the merged non-profits into an outstanding charitable organization. Darla and my mother will sit in on the board meetings to monitor progress and protect our interests. I will not involve myself in the day-to-day operations of the merged organization or the establishment of board policy beyond the policy contained in the tender offer." He grinned. "I trust you, Grace. You'll make our game plan work. And I trust my sister to meet the goals of our fundraising campaign. Two weeks from now I'll move on to other challenges."

Grace studied him and said, "Damn, you are serious."

"Yep," he said. In two weeks, he thought, I might understand Arabic enough to start fulfilling my promise to my wife. Maybe.

That's when Nora spotted him. She smiled and moved toward him like a stalking jungle cat. Her fluid grace never failed to excite him.

Catherine Holt was ecstatic about being with her father again, but she was also bewildered. She'd believed the flight across the country would be exciting. Mostly, it was boring.

She'd read to pass the hours. Katy enjoyed reading, especially historical romance novels. Her mother wouldn't let her read them, called them trash, said that Katy was too young to read that kind of trash, and Katy supposed they were trashy, but she still enjoyed them. Besides, she'd discovered historical romances as reading material while visiting her grandmother. That's what grandma read, and grandma was surprised that a girl Katy's age could read a book written for adults. Katy was seven years old at the time. Without her mother's knowledge, Katy had sequestered one of the trashy novels in her carryon luggage.

Her father had met her flight, and she'd squealed with joy when she saw him. As fast as her thin legs could carry her, she ran into his arms. He'd picked her up and hugged her, spinning around at the same time, and Katy had given him at least a hundred kisses.

She didn't notice his fake hand until they gathered her luggage. Instead of holding a bag in the hand, he put it under his arm. She knew it was rude, but she couldn't stop more quick glances at the hand as they walked to a funny-looking vehicle, a Hummer, her father said.

"It belongs to one of my bosses," he said.

"It's sorta boxy," Katy said.

"I don't live in my own house, Katy," he said as they drove away from the airport. "I live in what's called a compound, which in this case is three houses with a wall surrounding all three houses. Your room will be right next to mine, though, and you'll have access to all the facilities in the compound, like the swimming pool, hot tub, entertainment room, library, and gym. You've been looking at my prosthetic hand, I've noticed. I normally don't wear the hand. I prefer a hook. I didn't wear the hook because I thought it might frighten you."

She shook her head. "Uh-uh. I woulda handled the hook okay, daddy. You said that there were other kids my age nearby. Do you mean in the... ah, compound?"

The concept of a compound was part of her bewilderment. Maybe when she saw it, she'd understand better.

"Yeah. There's Vince; he's eleven, and Patty, she's ten. Vince is an orphan, a foster son David, Nora, and Darla Stanley took in. Patty is the cook's daughter. And there's a runaway, a fourteen-year-old girl named Eileen the Stanleys just brought into the compound. They're good kids, sweetheart."

"I'll be the youngest, then."

"Yes, except for little George. He's Darla's boy, a little over a four years old."

"Should I pass or tell 'em I'm black?" Katy said.

Dwayne laughed. "Tell 'em whatever you want, but they know I'm black, so they'll know you're black, too."

"They won't tease me about it?" she said.

"About being black, no," he said. Grinning, he turned and looked at her. "They might tease you about other things, though. If they do, take it, and tease 'em right back."

"I will. What's your job?" Katy said.

"I'm a driver/bodyguard," he said. "I work out of the compound, so most of the time we'll eat our meals together."

Katy nodded.

"The family I work for also owns a horse ranch. Purebred Arabian horses. They're beautiful animals, Katy."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You can learn to ride horses, if you want, too."

"Yes! Oh my goodness! I'd like that, daddy. Boy, oh boy, would I ever!"

"The school is also in the compound, what's called a homeschool. The classes will cover everything you need to learn just like in a regular school. The homeschool starts next week."

Compound. Homeschool. Horse ranch.

Katy was bewildered. Living with her daddy didn't sound like it was gonna be what she'd expected it to be.

But my room will be next to his, she told herself, and we're gonna eat most meals together, and I get to learn how to ride horses.

It'll be like a historical romance: a lot of trouble balanced by a lot of joy and happiness. No romantic love though. She tittered. She wasn't ready for that, but she sure did enjoy reading about it. Reading about it made her tingle.

Love at first sight, David thought the moment his eyes fell on Katy Holt. What a beauty! Long black hair curled softly around her face, a face whose features were perfectly symmetrical. A Mediterranean complexion gave her an all-over light tan. Big, black, expressive eyes. Taller than David expected, with long, gangly legs. Like our colt at the ranch. Considering the man mountain was her father, he should have expected her height.

When Dwayne introduced the girl, David squatted and held out his arms. She moved into them without hesitating, and they hugged hello.

With her small hand in his, David said, "May I show her around the compound, Dwayne? We've got just enough time before dinner for the nickel tour."

Dwayne nodded. "I'll get her things put away in her room."

David and Katy strolled off together hand in hand.

"Can you swim, Katy?" David asked.

"Yes, sir," she said. Her voice wasn't small, like he expected. Still, the sounds resonated pleasantly in David's ears.

"I'm David, Katy. Call me David, not sir."

"Okay."

"Are you a good swimmer?"

"Yes, s... ah, David. I was on the swim team at my school."

"Do you like sports?"

"Yes. Some sports, not all of 'em. I'm tall, but I don't like basketball. It's too rough. I like running the best. I'm a good runner. Fast, and I can run a long ways."

"I run most mornings," David said. "Very early in the morning, though." Although Patty had said she'd run with him, she had yet to get out of bed early enough to join him. He decided not to press the point with Katy.

"How early?" she said, pressing it herself.

"Between five-thirty and six-thirty," David said.

She nodded. "That's early all right. I do tai chi early in the morning with my daddy; maybe I can get up a little earlier and run with you, too."

They strolled into David's library. "Do you like to read?"

"Yes!"

"What kind of books do you like?" David said.

She hesitated, and then said, "Novels."

"Really? What kind of novels?"

"Ah, historical."

David frowned. "I don't think I have any... yes, I do. There's Jean Auel's series starting with the Clan of the Cave Bear. My favorite of that series is Valley of the Horses. They go back to prehistoric time. Mistral's Daughter by Judith Krantz takes place in France during the post-impressionist period of art. It's about art and modeling. And I have some James Michener books. He writes about an area like Hawaii and deals with its history from very early to the present. There's Naked Came I by Weis, and Aztec by Gary Jennings, and others. They might be too difficult for you to read at your age, though."

"May I borrow Mistral's Daughter? I like art and wanna be a model someday. I might like that book," she said.

"Sure," David said and pulled the book from the shelf.

He chuckled when she cuddled the book in her thin arms. It was a big book. If memory served, it also presented some very adult concepts. Perhaps asking Dwayne if she could read the book would be prudent.

"We have a collection of children's books in my mother's house. We'll be using her great room as a classroom for our homeschool until we can build a classroom when we build the new living units. When we walk through that house, I'll show you where we keep those books."

Children's books didn't excite her, David noticed.

With only a few seconds before dinner, David hurried to his office and connected with Wilson. He was driving slowly along a residential street. As the car slowed even more to turn a corner, David turned the wheel harder and pressed on Wilson's foot, depressing the accelerator. The car jumped the curb and struck a fire hydrant. An airbag expanded, slapping Wilson in the face. Water spurted fifty feet in the air. David laughed silently and returned to his body. With booze spilled in Wilson's lap from David's last flight, the police would assume he was drunk. The breathalyzer would prove otherwise, but then again, maybe not. David didn't know how many drinks Wilson had consumed in the hotel lounge.

Dinner was relaxed, an old-fashioned, home-cooked meal: pot roast, mashed potatoes and gravy. At David's urging, June even sat down and ate with everyone. Katy sat next to Patty, and Patty engaged Katy in a conversation about the various activities the kids enjoyed every day. Some whispering and giggling ensued, as well. Thank heaven for little girls, David thought.

Near the end of the meal, David received a call. Darrell Pointer at CASS had a candidate for the baker job, but the baker came with a husband and a son.

"What caused their homelessness?" David asked Pointer.

"No one reason, which is the norm, David. Phil Martin, the husband, lost his job. They were living hand to mouth on Penny's income as a baker. Penny is his wife. He took odd jobs as a handyman while looking for a fulltime job, but they were seriously in debt — credit card debt ran up mostly by the wife. She's a poor money manager, David, one of the things we've helped her understand better. Then Phil had an accident while working on his car, smashed his leg, almost lost it. No insurance. While he was in the hospital, their landlord evicted them and the finance company repossessed their car. With no place to live and unable to get around, Penny lost her job. No family to turn to. Penny ended up on the street with her son, Robert. Bobby is nine years old. Penny and Bobby showed up here a little over two months ago. A week after they showed up, Phil was released from the hospital and joined them. He's still on crutches."

"Why did Phil lose his job?" David said.

"Not sure," Darrell replied. "He was a maintenance man for an apartment complex. He says the apartments changed ownership, and the new owners let him go."

"What about drugs and alcohol?" David asked.

"The husband drank. Booze caused the accident, but he isn't an alcoholic. He's been dry since he came here. No drugs. We do drug testing. Like many homeless, Phil and Penny are not the brightest bulbs in the chandelier, but unlike many homeless, they aren't mentally ill. Bobby, I think, is smarter than his parents by a large margin. They're good people, David, mostly victims of circumstance."