“Its home,” T.J. simply stated. And after a thoughtful glance around the tiny cottage with its slightly musty scent from the moisture and the antiques he said sincerely, “I love this place like none other I’ve ever seen ... anywhere in the world.” Then with sideways grin over his unaccustomed sentimentality, T.J. quickly placed his hand at the small of Marie’s tiny waist while opening the door for her to depart, “Come on, there is not enough hours to show you everything today if we don’t keep moving.”
“Where to next?” Erika questioned after being situated back in the boat. “You are a very excellent tour guide.”
“Well, thank you my dear,” he said adopting her role-play. “Although having never been on a tour … I wouldn’t know if you were fibbing or not! It is such a beautiful day that I thought I would take you on a tour of the lake, the water is calm and we are suppose to reach the low seventies today. This is the perfect day if you are going to get a thorough look at Priest.”
“Oh, I would love it if you wouldn’t mind,” Erika responded wholeheartedly.
And so, the rest of the day flew by. Each reveling in a newfound friendship. T.J. showed Erika every bay, pointed out secret fishing spots and entertained her with stories of pranks and excursions from his childhood. Soon, the sun began shifting toward the majestic Selkirk Mountain range. Neither T.J. nor Erika realized that afternoon was quickly approaching.
They still needed to make one last stop at the village of Coolin. T.J. was determined to see that Marie’s cottage kitchen was adequately stocked while he was away. While gliding on the still perfect lake waters, T.J. expertly turned the boat to a sharp left, delighting his passenger with a rooster tail gracefully arching hundreds of feet of water behind the powerful boat. After he righted their vessel in the direction of Coolin, T.J. glanced at a beaming Marie and knew down deep in his heart this excursion would be indelibly imprinted in his memory forever.
As Erika watched the enchanting display of water that resembled a trail of diamonds sparkling in the fading sun, T.J. broke into her thoughts with a promise that in the days to come he would show her more of the lake and weather permitting, the finest, most exquisite offering of all, Upper Priest Lake. Erika was entranced already by the lake’s charm. She couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful. She knew instinctively that she had found a hidden treasure in the Gem State of Idaho and in the man whom fate had brought along her path, if only for a few moments out of her life.
After snacking at a small lakeside cafe along a little-known bay, T.J. suggested that they collect her groceries and supplies as the day was quickly passing. He assured Erika that he was delighted to be of assistance in choosing adequate supplies.
As Erika went around and around the tiny general store known as Leonard Paul’s, T.J. found the shopping experience more revealing than Erika could ever guess. He noticed her inability to purchase anything practical. And even more surprising, she really didn’t have a clue as to what she would need. It was everyday kinds of things like laundry detergent, toilet tissue and dishwashing soap. After suggesting those purchases, a blank expression would cross her beautifully innocent face before she would quickly grab the item from his outstretched hand and mutter, “It was already on my list.” T.J. was amused because the only thing she seemed to have on her list was convenience frozen foods and fashion magazines.
It was difficult to assimilate all this information. It warred with his emotions, making him question once again her real motives. It never occurred to T.J. that Marie might in fact have been raised as one of the upper crust herself.
Seven bags of groceries later, T.J. and Erika crossed a now choppy lake back to Kootenai Bay, some thirty minutes in good weather. He kept checking his watch knowing it would take a miracle to make his 8:00 p.m. appointment ... but for the first time in a long while, he wasn’t the least bit sorry. Knowing that in a few short weeks, she would be gone, the lake would freeze and all the inhabitants of Priest Lake would prepare for winter hibernation. The respite would be over and real life would begin again. T.J. was enjoying this vacation more than he cared to admit, even to himself.
“That should do it,” exclaimed Erika as she surveyed her now full kitchen shelves. Dusting her hands on a nearby towel, she turned to find T.J. starring intently at her. Immediately her earlier rudeness came to mind and suddenly a feeling of shame was overwhelming as she recalled her inexcusable fury at T.J. early that morning. Meaning to apologize for that and subsequently thank him for his invaluable help during their shopping excursion, Erika turned somewhat shyly to T.J. Digging her hands into her front jeans pockets, and crooking her neck slightly she began.
“You know, um, I’m terribly sorry about this morning,” she waved vaguely toward the door. “I am usually a very level person ... a very level person. In fact, I have had training in problem solving and I feel I have done quite well in that area. For some reason, when I get away from the City ... well, everything seems somewhat ... out of focus.”
Noticing his perplexed expression, she continued, “I guess I’m just trying to apologize for coming on so strong this morning. It isn’t as if I didn’t appreciate what you were trying to accomplish, it was just ... the timing, I guess. I seem to be on edge and ... well, I’m sorry.”
With that said, Erika brushed her hair over her left shoulder and added, “I wanted to also thank you for your assistance at Leonard Paul’s. You must be an expert in domesticity,” she said with a wry smile. “Any help in that area is greatly appreciated! So, I guess I owe you. What do you want for dinner,” she ended with an endearing smile?
T.J. was touched by her admission and instinctually knew it wasn’t something she did lightly ... or often.
“Listen, I would love to take you up on your offer but I’m afraid I’ll have to take a rain check on that one.” Then he added quickly when her bright smile began to droop, “But it’s a rain check that I will redeem, doubt me not! I will not let you off the hook that easy. Especially after I paid for lunch when technically, you lost our race to the boat and should therefore have forfeited the right to be taken to lunch. But, I am a nice guy. So, I know a great pizza place down the road in the next bay, how about we go there and you can pay.”
“You don’t think I can cook, do you,” Erika demanded.
“No. I doubt if you’ve ever cooked a meal in your life,” he returned with that contagious smile.
“Well, I guess you will be in for the surprise of your life,” and then Erika quickly amended, lifting her chin slightly. “I mean ... the surprise of the ... week,” she said softly.
“We’ll see. I’ve got to leave the lake for a few days. I’ll take up the offer when I return.”
T.J. gently tapped her little turned-up nose and turned to leave. At the cottage door, he glanced over his shoulder to find a vulnerable, scared expression on her face. Erika quickly covered with a smile that somehow didn’t reach her eyes.
“Maime asked me if you would come to dinner at the Marina tonight. I’m sorry I forgot to tell you earlier today. I took the liberty of accepting for you, I hope you don’t mind. She and Papa expect you around 6:00 p.m. See you soon.”
“But ...” the door closed on her unfinished sentence.
Erika smarted at Tim’s presumption for accepting dinner engagements for her with complete strangers. Not complete strangers, she amended. Then, the feeling softened as she realized how glad she was that he had done just that.
As T.J. closed the door, he made a mental note to call Maime from the car and explain their extra guest at dinner. Also, he meant to ask her to keep an eye out for Marie. T.J. knew a moment of alarm when realization of his own desire to do just that surfaced.
Chapter Seven
“Mr. Morgan?” the uniformed attendant inquired. “I am here to escort you to the Crawford Industries jet.”
“Thank you.”
“T.J. Morgan,” a voice boomed as the door to the sleek limo opened. “Thanks for making the trip. You know I would never have asked
for you to make this on such short notice unless it was something critical to the health of enterprise.”
T.J. warmly clasped the hand of his long-time business colleague, Lawrence Bancroft. “Lawrence, no apologies necessary. I know you would do the same for me if the need arose. I’m honored that you called.”
Lawrence leaned back and smiled at T.J. Morgan’s humbleness. His prowess in intelligence was legendary among the top sector. He was just glad to have his expertise on this occasion. The Morgan family had interests everywhere. Trust wasn’t even an issue.
A few minutes later Lawrence Bancroft and T.J. Morgan were airborne, smoothly soaring over the brilliant casino lights and energy of the city of Reno. Yet the two gentlemen barely glanced at the spectacular display. Empires were at stake. Empires that if filtered into the wrong hands could cause national and even international weakness ... so strong and integral were the interests.
T.J. snapped open a tan cowhide leather case and quickly removed a yellow legal pad
“Are we free to talk here?” T.J. asked.
“Yes, of that I’m certain. As a matter of fact, this jet is the only place I am certain of,” Lawrence breathed. “My pilot has been with me for twenty-five years ... if you can imagine that,” he commented wryly. “Other than Bruce, no one is allowed access to this jet, other than my niece, Erika. It is simply ‘off limits.’ Crawford bought the jet for our personal and business use. The jet is checked for breeches of security every evening.”
T.J. smiled in response. Lawrence Bancroft was always a wily fellow.
“In fact, that is why I insisted on meeting you in Reno. It’s about an hour or so flight into Los Angeles. In that time, I can give you highly sensitive information that I would be uncomfortable giving you anywhere else. Sometimes, I even think my own home isn’t safe anymore.”
“Well, we’ll see what we can do about that before this is over ... but in the meantime, let’s leave the impression that you think your home is safe. Let’s use that to our benefit,” T.J. commented.
“And that, my son, is why you are here,” boomed Lawrence.
“As you know, Lawrence, the Morgan family is not indomitable. We’ve had our security breaches; one was devastating to the family. I suppose that incident is what inspired me to learn everything I could to control our family interests. If any of my experiences can help others in the pool, I’m glad to be of service as I have been to you.”
“I know that T.J. and it gives me a great amount of comfort. I’m getting older and my reflexes are not as honed as they used to be.”
“Profits are up sixty percent this year,” Lawrence continued matter-of-factly. “That in and of itself is astounding but our projections for next year even tops that figure. Too many want a piece of the pie and still others want the whole thing. That’s why you’re here.”
“Okay, shoot. Why don’t you start by explaining your profit increase? Your figure is indeed impressive,” T.J. replied.
“There is only one reason our profits are up and only one reason why we are projecting an eighty percent increase during the next fiscal year. That increase is largely the result of one company ... Capital Textiles. It is also the only company that is not privately held.”
At T.J.’s raised eyebrows Lawrence Bancroft unnecessarily lowered his voice, “You see, we have cracked the industry secret. Our labs at Capital have discovered a way to eliminate one of the steps in the weaving process. Thus, entire warehouses have been converted to new mills which will double if not triple our productivity. Workers are currently being retrained to function in other mill processes. Employees are not losing their jobs and in fact are earning substantially more so general morale is unprecedented. The product is delivered to industry in record time and literally billions of dollars are saved in the process. Simply stated, Capital can produce textiles in half the time. And to that extent, we can produce twice or three times as much during our fiscal cycle. The result is billions in pure profit.”
“Capital expenses are low,” he continued. “My niece, Erika Crawford, has been able to lock incredible cotton prices and her creation of a new home textile line marketed directly to the consumer is pure brilliance ... even if she is my niece.”
“The problem is ... I suspect a leak. I am afraid we are vulnerable from the inside … and although I have my suspicions, I’m not certain who the players are.”
T.J. sighed, “Whew, if the stakes are as high as you intimated to me on the phone earlier. This elimination process that you have discovered is amazing. It will indeed revolutionize the industry. And, you are right, if those on the inside are indeed involved in a scheme, Crawford Industries is very, very vulnerable,” he warned.
T.J. took a few moments to digest the information. He tapped a yellow pencil repeatedly on top of his yellow pad. Then a pause. Then more tapping. Lawrence smiled as a sudden vision of his niece, Erika, materialized. Just before she left on her God-knows-where vacation, she sat at the estate’s dining room table with a yellow pad and pencil. Her mind was miles away, which left her unaware of Lawrence’s scrutiny. He had felt so helpless. Lawrence had wanted to protect her from life’s crushing blows; the Lord knew Erika had already experienced her share. But Lawrence couldn’t shield her from a love gone sour. He only hoped Erika would one day realize the emotion spent on Steve Caslin was nothing close to love. Lawrence prayed she would run headlong into a man who was worthy of her devotion.
The tapping continued. The rhythm was uncanny. At home, whenever Erika’s problem became complicated, her rhythm would take on much the same characteristics as T.J.’s. Lawrence’s heart ached for her. If he could only solve this problem that threatened to destroy them, he would join her and shower Erika with gifts and affection. Lawrence was quickly brought back to the small conference table in the plush jet as T.J.’s quick exhale of breath caught his attention.
“This situation is not impossible to crack, Lawrence, but it’s always more difficult when you are dealing from within. Old friends will become enemies and your trust level will never again be the same. To uncover exactly what is going on, I will need access to … everything. I mean personal as well as professional,” he explained apologetically, “and I will need complete anonymity while I work. If you can agree to those two stipulations, I think I can help.”
“But before you give me your answer,” T.J. continued with his hand raised, “Let me give you a pledge. As you know, the Morgan family does not privately own any textile mills. I will not in any circumstances use the information I will learn from your companies to profit for my own companies and I will not pass along the industry secret or any other information I am privy to during this investigation.”
“Your pledge is not necessary,” Lawrence commented, “But I appreciate it none-the-less. Your stipulations can be met. I have nothing to hide and nothing I would want to keep from you.
“T.J., Crawford is the only thing I can pass along to my niece, the only surviving member of our family. Her parents, who were killed when she was just a child, founded it. I have run the empire ever since. I cannot leave a broken legacy,” Lawrence spoke while unshed tears gleamed in the corner of his dove gray eyes.
“I understand,” T.J. said softly. “But I also know that your expertise has built all of this,” he said gesturing to his surroundings. “Let’s get down to business and put this thing to rest for good.”
---
Erika was surprised when a knock sounded on her cottage door that evening as she was preparing to leave for Maime’s. The hair on the back of her neck rose when Erika realized she had inadvertently forgotten to flip on the porch light after the sun had gone down. Her thoughts had been dreamily centered on the newly discovered life as Marie Bancroft.
Peaking through the muslin curtains, Erika couldn’t see a thing except the figure of a man standing very near her door. Quickly reaching to lock the front door, which had thankfully been repaired by Tim before he had left, a crackled voice reached her straining ears.
“Oh, Papa, I mean Ben,” Erika exclaimed as she quickly unlocked and opened the door. “I didn’t recognize you with the porch light off. I am so sorry, please come in,” she said while ushering the wiry man into the cottage.
“O, jus’ call me Papa. It’s what everybody does. I jus’ call myself Ben when I don’t knows people. Fact is, people round here pro’bly don’t remember my real name anyhow,” he explained with an embarrassed shrug.
“Well, if it’s all the same to you, I would be honored to call you, Papa,” Erika graciously replied. “I never knew my grandparents and hardly remember my own parents either.” At his look of guarded alarm Erika quickly explained, “All my family have either died, as in the case of my grandparents before I was born, or were killed, as was the case with my parents. They were returning from an African safari when their plane went down,” she finished softly.
“Oh, I’m real sorry,” Papa said awkwardly.
“Thank you. But as I was saying, I like the name ‘Papa’ and if you would allow me to call you that, I would be greatly honored,” Erika finished. And then not wanting to make the nice man any more embarrassed than he already was, Erika quickly moved to the kitchen and asked if he could use some coffee.
“Oh, no, Ma’am. I jus’ came to walk you down to the Marina for dinner. Maime wanted me to come early in case you forgot or started down there on your own,” Papa explained.
“That is very kind of you. It does seem incredibly dark out there for this time of night,” she said checking her watch, “and I forgot to purchase a flashlight at the store earlier.”
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