Chapter 68

Cindy's turn:

This past week will go down right behind the week Dan and I got shot as the worst week in my life. Let me set the stage.

3Sigma is getting a great reputation among utilities and industries. So we get a call from another one of those rural electrical co-operatives. They want us to look at upgrading a couple of their substations.

Naturally, we're excited. You don't get a pair of substations at a couple of million dollars apiece and NOT get excited. My Dan is going to field this one, and in the emailing and phone calls back and forth, he gets what is now an almost inevitable question: "That Cynthia Richards on your letterhead, she's not the one that got her double-E at sixteen, is she?"

"Yep. That's her. My wife."

"I heard about her from a guy who we sent to that last trade expo. Is she gonna be on our project?"

Dan gets a little defensive. "She's a fully qualified engineer, working on her master's at Auburn. She may have some participation, but rest assured..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Dan. We're not questioning her qualifications. We were hoping you'd bring 'er along when you come up to visit us."

"Let me make sure that the trip won't interfere with her school schedule."

Arrangements were made. I cut a little hole in my school stuff, begged out of another set of tests on that railgun project, and got a little excited about going to meet a new client.

Dan feigned displeasure. "We have an eminently qualified engineering house with a track record of successful completions on projects, and they remember that we have a redheaded teen engineer."

I giggle. "You gotta play to your long suit."

So off we went. We had it all figured out. Fly into Tennessee. Pick up a rental car at the airport. Load our luggage and computers and such into the car. Spend the night in the hotel, get up the next day, meet the client. Another night in the hotel because, you know – out of town. New restaurants. A night in a hotel room to remind us of the early days of our lives together.

Everything went according to plan on Day One. Day Two went good, too. We had our meeting. I got the usual 'You're really an engineer?" to which my new answer, "Sure am! Got the tattoo 'n' everything!"

"Cindy!" Dan hissed.

"Okay," I said, "I have a confirmation letter from Auburn attesting to me having met the requirements for a baccalaureate degree in electrical engineering. I have asked that they hold off on issuing my official diploma until the spring semester graduation so that I may receive my diploma at the same time that some other important people in my life receive theirs."

Several around the conference table nodded.

"And if you'll note on the company letterhead, there's a Dominique Granger. She's a year older than me. Has the same letter. She'll be at graduation with me."

The remainder of the meeting was a happy event in that they had already pretty much decided that we'd get the work. We talked about timeframes for completion, equipment lists.

"Something funny, Mizz Richards?"

"Oh, not really. You're choosing EnerSys protection equipment. We, that's me, Nikki – the 'Dominique' on the letterhead, Tina Addison and Susan Ellerbee, we designed that communications interface that you'll use to tie to your legacy equipment. We're pretty much experts on it."

"So I've heard," their head engineer said. "One of them told us that if we wanted third-party support, that you guys were the bunch to get. Heard about your field service team – a husband and wife?"

"Susan Ellerbee and her husband Jason Ellerbee. Susan graduates in May with Cindy. So does Jason, with his new engineering degree. He already has a degree in electrical engineering technology."

"One of my buddies works for a co-op down in Alabama, said to watch for them. Says she's quite the cutie!"

"She's a 4.0 engineering student, a whiz in a metal fabrication shop, receives a stipend for research work with the Department of Defense," I said. "And yes, she is my adopted sister and quite the cutie!"

"Okay, Cindy ... forgive us. We're a bunch of old goats who aren't used to women in the field."

I giggled. "That's okay. We sort of enjoy the attention, you know."

We finished the meeting on several positive notes, laughing at the idea of gender-based roles. "And when we successfully complete the project, Susan will include a crocheted doily."

Dan and I left.

"Well?" I asked. "What'd you think?"

"I think you're absolutely nuts," he laughed. "I wish I was as good at reading people as you seem to be. You knew how they'd react. 'Tattoo' indeed."

I giggled. "Bunch of older guys. I thought to myself that they're pretty much tired of that tattoo thing, so I thought a zinger was a good bet."

We went back to the hotel, got on computers and updated the company information system and skyped our co-workers about the new contract that would be getting sent out.

Dinner was at a family restaurant recommended by the guys at the co-op. And then a drive through the countryside to see one of the substations we'd be doing. I got a lot of pictures. No, it's not purely curiosity. They'll be part of the project planning and documentation.

And back to the hotel. If I didn't have my head in the clouds, I would've noticed the lady at the front desk eyeing us as we walked through the lobby.

We sort of kicked back after dinner, letting the meal digest, talking, checking email and such. Our plan was to hold off on the naked romping until after the mutual shower. That's why we were fully clothed when the knock came on the door.

"Open up. Sheriff's department."

Dan jumped up, in his socks, but otherwise fully clothed, as was I. We were both wearing the clothes we wore from the day's meeting, that is, conservative, business-like, a bit shy of the tie and coat, but still...

"Are you sure you have the right room?" Dan asked.

"Open up. Or we'll open it ourselves."

Dan's pistol was in his suitcase. He looked through the peephole. "Show me a badge, please."

Apparently they waved badges. He opened the door. "What can I do for you gentlemen?"

"We have a report of a man with an underaged girl in this room."

"Cindy? We're married. If you'll allow her to do so, she has the papers."

"We've been married for two years," I said.

There were two officers, neither of which would miss fifty pounds off the middle, but they were belted up, carrying guns, and the badges were in plain sight.

"I'm Dan Richards," Dan said. "Could I get your names?"

"We don't give out our names. Miss, if you have some documentation ... where's it at?"

"In my computer case," I said.

"Jack, go watch 'er close." The one that spoke was the older of the two. I registered 'Jack' for future use. When Jack got closer, I eyeballed his badge closely. Got a number. Put that in memory, too.

"Miss, do NOT move fast. Put the bag on the bed and move very slowly while you retrieve your document," Jack said.

I knew exactly where the paperwork was. I carefully pulled the pages out. "Here we are. Judicial waiver of age. Marriage license."

'Jack' looked them over. "Roy," he said, "It's what she said. They got a seal 'n' ever'thang."

"Lemme see 'em," 'Roy' commanded. Jack brought the pages over. Roy looked at them carefully and announced, "These thangs're from Alabama. I don't think they can do this. Are you under the age of eighteen?"

"I'm sixteen," I said. "But we're perfectly legal. We've been married going on two years. Rings and everything."

"Baby," Dan said, "Don't say any more. Call Judge Peebles."

"You!" 'Roy' spat. "You don't talk unless we tell you to. You're being arrested for sexual contact with a minor."

"What? You're kidding me!"

I saw the handcuff go on Dan's wrists. They weren't kidding.

"Sir," I said, "We don't need cuffing. We can go to your office and settle all this with a few phone calls."

"Yessir," Dan said. "This is ridiculous. I hate to see you wasting your time."

"We got plenny a'time for arrestin' child molestors," he told Dan. "You, young lady, you're gonna have to go to a foster family for the night."

"B-but all our stuff..."

"Those computers'll come with us as evidence. We'll process this as a crime scene."

"Look, Roy ... Before you get too far along, there's a pistol in that big backpack. Side pocket. It's loaded. Safety's on."

"Carryin' a gun?"

"I have a concealed carry permit from Louisiana. It's good in this state. And the pistol's not on me, it's in that backpack."

He looked at Dan. "Cellphone. That's evidence too. Jack, hers too."

Jack took my phone.

"Okay, folks, let's go to the station."

"Sir. Roy, sir."

"Whatcha want?"

"If I'm going to a foster family, I need my clothes. Can I get my backpack?"

"Yeah, I guess that's okay."

I was hoping against hope that he didn't search it. He didn't. Missed my iPad. And one of those prepaid cellphones. And a sheath knife. I held the bag in my arms, pressed to my chest, fighting to maintain composure.

"Look, is this gonna take long?" Dan asked.

"Son, it's liable to take a lot longer'n you thought."

"Could you tell the front desk to pick our stuff up and store it for us?"

"Your things'll be taken care of," Roy said.

We left in separate patrol units. I was straining to maintain my composure as I saw Dan handcuffed in the back seat as Roy drove off.

"I get a phone call, don't I?"

"Don't see why not," Jack said. "You ain't the one bein' charged. You're the victim."

"I am NO victim. I am a married woman, a degreed graduate of Auburn University and an electrical engineer. That man in the other car is my husband and a co-owner of our business."

"You cain't be sixteen and a college grad," Jack replied. "Your story fallin' apart, girl."

"It's not a story. We're here for a business meeting with the electric co-op. You can call them if you don't believe me."

"Look, young lady," he said. "Your own words are convicting that guy. You 'n' him livin' together like husban' an' wife an' you ain't but sixteen. An' you say you been married two years? That ain't gonna cut it."

"It's the truth, and we are NOT illegal. And child molesters, as you call my husband, they do NOT put their victims through college, nor do they teach them to fly. I hope for your sake that this has a happy ending. And a quick one."

"You're a mouthy little thing," he said.

I get the feeling that I'm dripping water on a duck's back. Okay, Cindy, this is a new one, but you need to collect your thoughts.

When I got to the sheriff's station, I didn't see Dan. I was ushered into one of those sterile government offices.

"Are you gonna be a problem? Do I need to get somebody to watch you?"

"What could I do here? Beat a chair on the desk? No, I'm civilized."

"I'll be right back. Got some people here to meet you."

He wasn't gone a minute before he was back, accompanied by a man and a woman, both of them maybe sixty or so, Mizz Helen's age.