Campaign 6R Ch 03

The third chapter of Campaign 6R.

Enjoy!

LIVE LARGE!!!

BoCur

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Campaign 6R Chapter 3

Entering the Ringold and Hubert law offices I saw a very pretty woman about my age with curly black hair sitting behind a large desk working on a computer.

"May I help you Sir?" Smiling brightly she asked in the honey voice from the phone yesterday.

"Jules Haynes Vancy with a 10 o'clock appointment with Attorney Hugh Ringold."

"A moment Sir."

She stood and walked across the room, knocking on a door.

Short around 5 foot, and built, I enjoyed the movement of her buttocks, packed into a tight dark blue sheath dress. She opened the door and spoke quietly.

Turning to me, holding the door wide, she said, "Mr. Ringold will see you now Sir."

Hugh Ringold was a bald, short, portly man with salt and pepper walrus mustache, mutton chop sideburns. He wore a dark grey, three piece, flannel suit, white cotton shirt and black silk tie.

After introductions Ringold offered me a seat in one of the two black leather arm chairs in front of his desk as he set down behind it. He requested two forms of Id from me.

After verification he said, "Mr. Vancy, your parent's, Mary Haynes and William Jules Vancy, will is straightforward and simple. You are the recipient of their entire estate. If you are ready I will read the will. My partner, Mr. Hubert, will act as witness and our secretary, Miss Dolcett, will be notary."

I nod, "Yes."

Picking up the receiver of a desk phone he called, "Phillip would you please step to my office."

"Thank you."

Punching the intercom button on the phone, he said, "Miss Dolcett please come to my office. Bring your notary stamp."

Within a few minutes the woman from the front, along with a tall, slight, redheaded man with glasses, mid-thirties, wearing a white dress shirt, black slacks and a black tie entered.

"Mr. Vancy this is my partner Phillip Hubert. Phillip this is Jules Vancy."

We shook hands with acknowledgments.

"Phillip we here for a reading of a will, which I want you to witness."

Ringold removed from a manila folder, resting on his desk, a white, multiple page document and after a brief review read.

"The last Will and Testament of William Jules Vancy and Mary Haynes Vancy."

"Being of sound mind and body....................."

Finished he asked Hubert to sign as a witness and for Dolcett to notarize the original and copies.

"Mr. Vancy, I will file the original with the court today. A copy shall be retained with our office and you will have a copy. I will make all the appropriate notifications as to the change of ownership of all real property, property, stocks, bonds addressed in the will, to you. I will contact the financial institutions with the documentation for all accounts to be transferred to you. All this shall be completed by close of business Friday. In the mean time I have for you a cashier's check in the amount of $9,000.00 dollars drawn on the account of Ringold and Hubert, Attorneys at Law."

"Mr. Vancy if you will, please provide Miss Dolcett the necessary information for correspondence; address, e-mail and cell phone numbers."

He placed a copy of the will in manila folder and handed it to me along with the cahiers check.

He stood, moving around the desk offering his hand, saying, "Mr. Vancy, my condolences on your loss. I hope you are satisfied with our services and ask, in the future, if you need legal counsel to please consider Ringold and Hubert. Good day sir."

I shook Ringold and Hubert's hands and followed Miss Dolcett back to her desk, still enjoying the view.

I said, "Before we get started, what is your first name and please call me Hay."

With a brilliant smile she answered, "Jenny, Hay."

"Ok Jenny. You have my cell phone number, the one you called me by yesterday. My email address is HaDiVancy@gmail.com. Here is my DL, from which you get my correct and current information, name, partial social, address, hair and eye color, height, weight and....sex."

Emphasizing the last, my intentions weren't to pursue, just enjoying flirting with a pretty girl.

Flushing slightly she said, "I think that should do it. If I need anything I will call...If I may...?"

I smiled and said, "Any time. Have a good day Jenny."

My next stop was the bank, 1st Independence, the same where I already had an account. I asked a teller to speak to the manager. I was told to take a seat in the lobby while it was seen if Mr. Pittue was available.

I sat and watched the bank traffic, people coming and going. I did not know any of them. I had very limited opportunity to meet and interact with people.

I was comfortable with this and in fact preferred it. For most of my life, with the exception of college, I was fairly isolated, being home schooled behind the high walls of the estate. I went to Stanford at the age of 17 with no past social life. It was only then did I start to date.

College for most young men and women was a time to deviate from the mores, standards and inhibitions of their upbringing. Free of parental control for the first time and with very limited life experiences they easily make choices they would not have before or after.

The result, sexual activity, was there for the pickings. I had many before meeting Tracy. Once our relationship was firmly established we became monogamous. We were too into each other and our studies to have much time for others.

After college, sans Tracy, I once again, played the field with great success. As I have said, this I did in places where women were actively seeking attraction and affectation from men. I never wanted for the pleasure of a woman. After I returned to Eugene most of my time was spent at my flat or at Mama and Daddy's estate, secluded.

I saw the teller pointing me out to a sturdy, grey haired man in a black linen suit.

He introduced himself, "Mr. Vancy, I'm Clayton Pittue. Are you kin to Mary and Jules Vancy?"

"My parents. Are you the bank manager?"

"You have my sympathy and prayers, concerning your loss. Yes I am the manager of this branch of 1st Independence of Eugene."

An accident involving death merited and received investigation and garnered public attention. My parent's names had been in the local papers and on local TV.

"Thank you. That is what I want to discuss with you."

"Please follow me to my office."

I told him in the next couple of days his bank would be contacted by Ringold & Hubert, Attorneys at Law with documentation authorizing the transfer of funds in any and all accounts held by William Jules Vancy and Mary Haynes Vancy to me, Jules Haynes Vancy.

I told him I presently had an account with his bank and planned, at this time, to keep everything with 1st Independence. I handed him the cashier's check and told him have it deposited into my current account.

I asked him how my parents funds where distributed. He turned and tapped on his computer and a printer off to the side came to life, printing out the portfolio description.

The total amount was $17,878,976.52.

Three million dollars was in a checking account. $12,878,976.52 was in a savings account and two million dollars of precious metals, gold and titanium was in the bank's safety deposit vault.

After review I told Manager Pittue the same would work for me and asked him to pull up my current account.

Again he touched the computer keys, adding the cashier's check and printed the results.

The total in checking account was $19,221.84. I told him when the transfer was made to keep checking account at one million.

I had him create a checking account for Di and move $5,000 of my current checking account into it. When the legal authorization was received for the estate funds transfer, to move a million dollars from the savings account into Di's checking account.

I left the bank and visited Stillhouse Financial Consultant.

Betty Stillhouse was a chartered investment counselor (CIC), a designation awarded to qualifying financial professionals by the Investment Adviser Association (IAA). To become a CIC, certain professional criteria must be met, including holding the Chartered Financial Analyst designation. There are no educational requirements, but CICs must fulfill continuing education requirements as prescribed by the IAA.

A chartered financial analyst (CFA) is a globally-recognized professional designation, given by the CFA Institute which measures and certifies the competence and integrity of financial analysts. Candidates are required to pass three levels of exams covering areas, such as accounting, economics, ethics, money management, and security analysis.

Betty was a large woman with wild red hair in her late fifties, but sharp as a tack on money markets. I trusted her judgment and used her services in my modest investments. She was familiar with my financial podcast and was a fan. She was also a longtime family friend.

When I entered her office, Maude her secretary, an elderly blue haired woman, exclaimed, "Mr. Vancy I am so sorry about your parents! How terrible!"

"Thank you Maude, It was a shock."

"You want to talk to Betty? Let me call her."

Over the intercom she said, "Betty, Jules Vancy is here."

"Send him in."

I walked into her office which had multiple monitors covering the New York Stock Exchange (NYSE), S&P 500, Nasdaq and several international markets.

She gets up from her chair, rushing around the desk to hugs me, stating, "Oh Hay! I have been praying for you. Is there anything I can do to help? I stayed away for Di's sake. How is she?"

"Thank you for that, I know it was difficult, you and Mama being so close. But it was for the best. We are doing OK, well as can be expected."

"Good, I'm glad."

As we sit down, her in the chair behind desk and me in the one in front, she laughs, "Do you have a market tip for me today?"

I chuckled, "Nothing that was not presented in the last podcast. I'm working on the next but nothing that I'm sure you're not already aware of."

"Good stuff. My business as increased since you started your podcast."

"Earlier today Mama and Daddy's will was read with me as the beneficiary. There was a little over ten million dollars in stocks, bonds and equities that you handled for them. Within the next week you shall receive official notification that I am the new owner. I understand a percentage provides monthly dividends. The rest you manage, buying, selling or allowing to increase in value."

"That's correct a little over 10%. The proceeds of the dividends stocks, averaging five thousand dollars a month, are automatically deposited into the Mary and Jules's checking account."

"I want to keep everything concerning my parent's investments status quo for now. With my current investments, start moving them into dividend bearing stocks. I will leave where and what in your capable hands. The money from parent's dividend bearing stocks shall be automatically deposited into the Di's checking account."

I gave her the information for Di's new checking account.

She nodded and said, "I'll let you know when the changes are made.

I told her rising, "Good I will go now. Di is home alone. Thank you for being such a great friend to Mama."

She came around the desk and with another hug, emotionally declared, "The pleasure was mine. She was a wonderful woman who I loved dearly and will miss terribly. If you and Di need something, anything, please call me."

She was close to tearing up and I returned the hug, saying, "Thank you Betty, I will."

I said as she walked me to the front door, "Bye Maude."

"Bye Mr. Vancy."

The next stop was my apartment.

I did not have a whole lot there, just some clothes, books, a few odds and ends and my laptop.

The efficiency apartment was sparsely furnished when I rented it and had not added anything.

Lease was six months in duration, paid in advance and the current one was up for renewal in a couple of months. I would not renew when it was up.

A couple of suitcases and one plastic tote and I was on my way again.

Last stop was the supermarket, picking up a couple of grocery bags of food.

Parking in the garage I left the suitcases, tote and laptop in the truck, only carrying the grocery bags inside.

Entering the kitchen, I heard some music from outback and figured Di was by the pool.

After putting away the groceries I grabbed a beer and a soda from the fridge and headed out.

Di was laying on a chaise lounge by the pool in the shadow of an extended pool umbrella set in the center of a heavy concrete table. Her cd player, resting on the table, was playing loudly.

Thankfully Di's taste in music was similar to or most probably, because of mine, which was eclectic. I did not consider some of the so called music genres anything but aggravating noise, hard rock, heavy metal, hip hop, rap, etc.,. My interest lay mainly in golden oldies, pop rock, country, folk, blue grass, instrumentals and even some classical.

I had made Di several cds with a broad range of our favorites, giving over eight hours of music without repeating a song.

When I walked up, Mason Williams' 'Classical Gas' started.

I approached from behind and Di was not aware of my presence. She lay with her eyes closed, feet moving slightly to beat and rhythm of the classic. She had not been out of the pool long as her one piece, bright yellow bathing suit and fine pale hair was damp.

Gazing at her for a moment, it reinforced the truth of her amazing beauty.

I placed the drinks on the table, pulling one of the table chairs around to face her.

The noise startled her and she sat up looking at me, exclaiming, "Hay!"

Rising she stepped over and leaned down to give me a kiss.

"Hey Baby."

"I missed you."

"I missed you too Sugar. Want something to drink?" I asked, indicating the cans sitting on the table.

She pulled out a chair and sat down as I popped the top of the can of beer.

I offered her the can and she laughed, wrinkling her nose, "I don't like beer. Ugh it's bitter."

Opening the diet soda, I handed it to her asking as she took a sip, "What you been doing?"

"Swimming and listening to music," she answered nodding toward the cd player from which now issued the mournful, mellow tones of Otis Redding's 'Sittin' On The Dock Of The Bay'.

"You put on some sun screen?"

"Yes," indicating a bottle of spf 75 lotion laying on the table, "Mama told me it is important."

"Mama is right, it is important. Without it, if you stay out in the sun for long, your skin will turn red and hurt and we don't want to hurt."

"No hurt. Would it stay red for... for always?"

"No after a week or so it will fade but your skin may peel."

"Uck!"

"Yeah Uck! So put sun screen on every part of your skin exposed to the sun for an extended period every time you go out. We don't want your pretty skin turning red, burning and peeling."

"OK...," then frowning she said, "I didn't put on any last evening. Am I going to get red and hurt?"

"No Sugar. The sun was low enough that it's power was diminished. The sun rays have power that you must respect. See those raised, glass looking things on the roof?"

When she looked and nodded, I continued, "They are solar panels that collect the sun's rays and converted it into energy that powers the entire house and estate. Sunshine is powerful, but during the early morning and late evening the rays lose their punch, because of their angle."

Silent she nodded, thinking, then asked proudly, "My skin is pretty?"

"Yes, Honey, smooth and beautiful, as you are."

"I'm beautiful?"

"Definitely!"

She smiled, dreamily, staying silent considering this for a minute.

She took another drink of her soda and asked, "Want a swim?"

"Maybe later. After I finish my beer I want to go to lab. I thought of an idea last night I want to work on. You may come if you want. You can be my lab assistant and help me."

"OK!" She answered happily, excited about helping.

"We'll work for a couple of hours then you are going to cook supper. What are we having?"

"Spaghetti!"

"Sounds good. I picked up some fresh vegetables at the market for a salad and a fresh loaf of garlic bread, baked this morning."

I took the last swallow of the beer and stood, asking, "Is my lab assistant ready?"

Giggling she jumped up and took my hand, saying, "Yes."

"Get your towel and we'll go."

She grabbed the towel from the chaise lounge and I picked up her soda can. I went in the house with Di following.

I got my laptop from the truck and a bag of coarsely ground, dark roast, espresso coffee beans from the kitchen island, purchased earlier.

In the lab I instructed Di what I wanted her to do. I knew the concentration of caffeine I wanted could not be extracted from these beans. It was a make work exercise for Di's benefit.

I wanted her to feel she had worth, to be involved and needed. It was another small, incremental step in her learning curve toward being able to be independent. The more she did the better she would become.

Mama and Daddy had been very protective and had not let her do many things for herself.

The task before her was a simple one; put the coffee into a gallon pot, add water from the sink to half full. Bring to a boil on a portable, two eyed, induction burner that used an electromagnetic field to transfer heat only to the pans contents. It would bring water to a boil very quickly, while the rest of the cooking surface and pan remained cool.

Because of the electromagnetic field, only pots and pans made of ferrous metals (like cast iron or steel) could be used with it. The induction burner drastically reduced the danger of someone getting burned, perfect in Di's case.

You could press your hand on the one of the eyes or pans while it was working and it would not feel hot, hurt or injure. The house kitchen also had a large, built in, five burner, induction cook top.

Di, once the water boiled away, reducing to about half, would add more water, bringing the pot's contents back to the original level. She would repeat three times and allow to cool, then strain into a couple of glass beakers.

While keeping an eye on Di as she excitedly worked, I sat at the counter and powered up my laptop.

Accessing the notes of my previous failed projects, I quickly perused them then started on Di-18 journal to chronicle every step and aspect, resulting from the previous night's epiphany.

I set out the premise of the revelation, giving the hopeful culmination expectations, laying out the process, along with the procedure, products, materials and equipment needed for successful completion.

Searching the web I ordered the necessary items and materials and did some research and sent some email inquiries.

The Di-18 premise was to attempt to jump start the brain via a powerful combination of chemicals and electricity. This mixture would hopefully override any blockages, clearing the way for normal transmission. It may even open connections to rarely visited areas.

Caffeine is a central nervous system cognitive enhancer, increasing alertness and performance. A bitter, white crystalline alkaloid, chemically related to the bases of deoxyribonucleic acid (DNA) and ribonucleic acid (RNA).

It is one of the few legal psychotropic drugs changing the nervous system's function, resulting in alterations in perception, mood, consciousness, cognition and behavior. Although there are many caffeine sources, the best-known is the coffee.

Caffeine is classified by the US Food and Drug Administration (USFDA) as safe. Toxic doses, over 10 grams per day are much higher than the typical dose of under 500 milligrams per day. A cup of coffee contains 80--175 mg of caffeine, depending on what bean is used, how it is roasted (darker roasts have less caffeine), and how it is prepared (e.g., drip, percolation or espresso). It would require drinking 100 ordinary cups of coffee to reach the toxic dose. Pure powdered caffeine can be lethal in excessive amounts.