Georgie Girl Ch. 16-18

"It will be a few days before we can take a sworn statement from Ms. Fulton," Shilton began. "The state attorney's office won't rely on her testimony until she is recovered enough that a defense attorney can't repudiate her statement due to being under the influence of drugs. The pain medication she's taking falls under that category.

"However, we have her verbal statement, and on the basis of that we have made an arrest. Alvis Elias Pritchard has been arrested for felony hit and run, leaving the scene of an accident, and misleading the police in the course of an investigation. He will be arraigned tomorrow morning."

"We've been through this process before," Thomas said. "Will he be granted bail?"

"Most likely he will," the detective nodded. "There was no premeditation or intent in Pritchard's actions. It was an accident caused by a young guy who lost his head when he caused the accident and panicked."

"What did happen?" I demanded.

Shilton gave me a look that said he was being very patient with me.

"Ms. Fulton had visited the Pritchard Ranch on Monday afternoon. She had talked to Elias Pritchard about water quality, volume and a number of issues like that. The Pritchard Ranch is one of the smaller ones in these parts, but it's been in that family for over a hundred years. Elias Pritchard is a respected member of the community and as far as we can tell, not at all involved in what happened to Ms. Fulton.

"Alvis is his only son, and as the saying goes, not the sharpest tool in the shed. I think Elias knows he's not up to running the ranch now or in the future. Anyhow, Alvis is a twenty-four year old young guy, single and without a girlfriend. According to Elias, he was fascinated by your Ms. Fulton and followed her and his father around as they had their discussions. I can tell by her pictures that she's a very attractive woman and I guess Alvis was taken with her.

"As he tells it, he wanted to talk to her some more when she finished with his father and jumped in his truck and followed her. He knew those back roads better than most anyone and knew how to drive them. It didn't take long before he caught up to Ms. Fulton's vehicle.

"He said he was trying to get her to stop so he could talk to her about the ranch water and anything else she might want to talk about. I guess it got out of hand and when the SUV began to fishtail in the wet mud, he got too close and tapped the vehicle on the right rear fender. That was enough to send her off the road and into the ravine.

"The boy about wet himself when that happened. He panicked and headed home, frightened to death at what he had done. He hid out from his father, knowing he would have to explain where he was, what he was doing, and why he was so upset.

"When the GPS trace told us where Ms. Fulton had been, our officers drove up to the Pritchard Ranch and talked to Elias. He admitted he'd seen and talked to Ms. Fulton, but didn't know anything about an accident. He said his son was gone somewhere, but he didn't know where. When the officers took a look around, they found the old pickup that the boy drove and saw some blue paint scrapes on the left front fender.

"It took a while to find Alvis. He was hiding in a feed shed in back of the house, scared to death when he saw the MHP cars come to the house. The officers led him back to the house and he admitted what had happened and said it was an accident. He didn't mean to hit her vehicle. At that point, the officers arrested Alvis and brought him in."

Detective Shilton leaned back in his chair while we absorbed what he had told us.

"What will happen to him?" Sarah asked.

"He'll get some jail time, that's for certain. Hard to say what the judge will do. He's admitted what he did and if his daddy gets him a decent lawyer, he probably won't be given a harsh sentence. But ... he won't get off 'scot-free' either."

I looked around the table and didn't see any sign of unhappiness. Surprisingly, I saw Nan nod in agreement. She was seemingly saying that she was all right with what the detective was suggesting. I was about to say something in complaint when I thought better of it and held my tongue. This was not the place for family argument. I had to admit I wanted to see this guy spend some serious time in prison. Considering the damage he had caused Georgette, that seemed appropriate.

It was later when Nan and I were alone in the waiting room while Thomas and Sarah visited Georgette that she said something.

"You were about to tell that detective that the punishment wasn't enough, weren't you?"

I nodded. "Yes. When you look at what has happened to Georgette and what it means to this family, I thought he was suggesting a very light punishment."

"Johnny, it wasn't like he was trying to do what he did. He'll be punished because he didn't stay and help her. He didn't report the accident, and then he ran away. Those are all bad things, but not as bad as if he was trying to hurt her. Not like Brad."

I could see what she was thinking. She was comparing this to Georgette's beatings at the hands of Brad Little. This was different and she was trying to make me see that. I shook my head, but not in denial. This aging dowager had more compassion and common sense than anyone had a right to possess. I marveled at her ability to cut through the bullshit and get to the core of the issue. I was wrong and she was right.

"You always have the right answer, Nan. This is different, and my love for Georgette wouldn't change that. A prison term will scar him for life. I hope he survives it."

She reached out and took my hand, squeezing it firmly in agreement. The smile on her face was enough for me. If I had one single wish, it was to get this episode behind us and get on with our lives ... together.

Chapter 18 Home Again

It was another week before we could transport Georgette home. Despite the boredom and frustration of being cooped up in the motel or the hospital waiting room, we all survived without getting on each other's nerves. When the date of Georgette's release was confirmed, Thomas arranged for the charter flight to take us all home. Nan had packed up all my fiancée's belongings save for the clothes she would wear on the flight.

Thomas and I stopped in to thank Sergeant Kranowski of the highway patrol and Detective Shilton of the Great Falls Police Department for their response and cooperation, including sharing information with us that we might not otherwise have had. We left Great Falls with a good feeling about the law enforcement people we had encountered. No doubt, though, that the GPS tracking device on the rental was key to saving Georgette's life. It was also instrumental in tracking down where she had been, and that led to the arrest of Alvis Pritchard.

When we arrived at Hayward Executive Airport, we were met by Mary and Devon, along with Kevin Riordan. Georgette was mobile now, but still very stiff and sore. Coming down the stairs off the aircraft was a slow and careful process. Much of her facial bruising had disappeared, but there were still dark spots and puffiness near her eyes, giving evidence to her trauma.

Georgette and I rode with Thomas and Sarah in their SUV. We had Georgette sit on the right side of the rear seat so that the shoulder belt wouldn't touch her still-healing shoulder and arm. She was weaning herself off the pain medication and substituting an over-the-counter remedy. Knowing how single-minded she could be, I was sure she was "toughing it out."

She could wiggle the fingers on her left hand and it wasn't long before she decided she could use the keyboard on her laptop. Daytime TV would drive her crazy, she said. I couldn't agree more. In the meantime, she was collating her notes from her trip to present to Kevin, Thomas and me when she had them completed.

"I didn't get all the information I intended to, but I did get some I didn't expect to get," she told me.

"Like what?"

"There's a website that lists water quality for most of the major towns and cities in every state. The numbers are all over the map and the measurements aren't always the same values, but they give us a snapshot of where the problems are and where our concept would make the most sense.

"For example, towns whose outlying areas rely on wells seem to be the most likely starting point for us. When I met with the Idaho Water Resources Board, they mentioned a specific problem they had to deal with when a rubber plant closed and they discovered a couple of years later that their wastes and residues had found their way into the local water table and was contaminating many of the wells. People were getting sick, but no one knew why until they tracked it to the failed company.

"The company was out of business, declaring bankruptcy, so they had little they could do but to clean up the mess. It cost millions, I was told. More to the point, it got them testing wells on a more consistent basis and they discovered that many of them were in unsafe condition. They had contamination, usually from animal wastes, but sometimes from poorly done septic systems as well. All they can do is call it to the attention of the property owner and get them to abandon the well."

"So, what you're saying is that we have a huge market potential in places like that."

"If we can prove that our system will clean the water and make it safe, and if the landowners can afford it, the sky's the limit," she smiled.

"So, despite how it ended, you think it was worthwhile?" I asked.

"Of course!" she said in a tone that questioned my intelligence. "You need to worry about your exams, John," she continued, quickly changing the subject. "Call the university office and find out when you can take them."

"Yes, ma'am, as you wish, ma'am."

It wasn't often, but once in a while Georgette could get a bit sharp or irritated, and no, it wasn't during her period. She was a strong-willed woman and didn't like to be wrong, or worse, challenged. This little episode was different and I had a hunch why.

"You getting tired of being a semi-invalid?" I tested.

"Of course I am. I hate it. I can't do what I want and I can't go where I want. I can't drive my car and I can't dress myself. How do you think I feel?" she snapped.

"Something like I did for a few weeks," I grinned.

She looked at me, then I saw the change in her expression. The realization that this wasn't something I didn't understand came across loud and clear.

"I'm sorry, John. I shouldn't have barked at you like that. I forgot about Tahoe. I won't do it again."

"You don't have to apologize, Sweetheart. I understand your frustration and considering how serious your injuries are, I'm not surprised at how you feel. But, it won't be forever until you're healed ... or at least in physical therapy. That's when you'll know you're getting back to your old self."

I got a nice warm one-armed kiss from her and we held each other gently, mindful of her still-painful bruises.

A week later, I was re-scheduled for my exams, now to be taken in late June. I had explained the situation to the administration and they allowed me a special exemption from the usual "no-show, no-go" rules on examinations. I wasn't the only person on the list either. One of the exams was scheduled on the day before the original Saturday we were to get married.

My mother, Sarah, Nan and Georgette had set about rescheduling our wedding. It would be the first Saturday after Labor Day. We were fairly certain that my bride would be healed and in good health by that date. In the meantime, she had completed her report on her trip to the Southwest and the abbreviated trip to Idaho and Montana. When I read it, I was much more confident that we were heading in the right direction with our development.

Kevin, to his everlasting credit, had not stopped working on the prototypes for a minute. When I returned to San Francisco with Georgette and the family, I was surprised at just how much progress he had made. It took over a half-hour for him to explain what he had done. We were very close to being ready to test. We sat with Georgette at the house and discussed just what capacity we thought the units should have.

"I vote for the five-thousand gallon size," Kevin said. "It should handle most of the requirements we'll encounter. We can always make the ten-thousand capacity unit an option. That will also keep our height profile down close to your original concept."

"What do you think, Georgette?" I asked.

"I think Kevin is right. This is a work in progress, John. It's going to evolve over time if we keep working on it. My studies indicate five thousand gallons per day is well within a useful volume for individual users. It would give us two options. One, sell a second unit ... or two, build a larger one. Kevin's layout allows us to do the larger unit without having to mess up the rest of the design layout."

It was indisputable logic. "Okay then, that's what we'll do. Our first model will be capped at five thousand gallons per day."

I saw a smile on Kevin's face indicating he was happy with my agreement. Georgette gave me a squeeze with her good arm and a kiss on the cheek. It was unanimous.

***

Four of us were tucked into Kevin's crew cab pickup as we hauled the first prototypes up I-80 toward Sacramento. I had finished my last exam the day before and I was champing at the bit to see how our units would perform. Georgette had contacted the state water resources control board two weeks earlier and got a surprising response. They wanted to participate in the testing and would assist us in evaluating the results, using their laboratory facilities. It couldn't have been a better scenario for us. It would give us unimpeachable results.

Of course, we had already done testing in our "laboratory." We would have been crazy to let a public agency try it out before we knew ourselves exactly how it would perform. The state water board had sent us their standards for water purification, and we ran tests to those specifications. Both prototypes exceeded the state requirements easily, but it would be even better if the state certified the results. And we also wanted to see how it would perform in the field, outside our controlled laboratory environment.

The first prototype unit was in the back of the pickup, while the second unit was on a rented flat-deck trailer. We had deliberately left the shrouding off the units so that we could easily observe the components in operation. Kevin had done many hours of bench testing the various parts and pieces, but there was no substitute for field tests.

We were meeting the control board people at one of their sites in Folsom. We weren't prepared to find almost a dozen staff assembled when we arrived. When we stepped out of the air-conditioned truck, the heat hit us like we were standing in front of a blast furnace. It took a couple of minutes to introduce ourselves before a Mr. Whitehurst identified himself as the spokesperson for their group.

"All these people involved in the test?" I asked.

"Yes. Your device is something we've thought about ourselves, but we don't have the budget to do the development work," Carl Whitehurst responded.

"Uhhm ... just so you know ... we've applied for patents on this unit," I stammered.

Whitehurst smiled. "Yes, I'm aware of that. Don't worry. We're not here to steal your concept. We want to see it succeed. If Ms. Fulton's estimates are correct, this would be a very affordable way for homeowners, farmers, ranchers, and even small businesses to clean their water supplies. Water is a very precious commodity in this state. Our job is to protect it and promote better use of it."

With the help of the assembled group, we off-loaded the two units and moved them to the designated test sites. It took very little effort to work up a sweat in the ninety-plus degree heat. The prototypes were situated near three large tanks, presumably filled with water to be used in the testing.

"The maximum throughput is a little less than three-and-a-half gallons a minute," Kevin stated. "If we gravity feed the unit, we can control that volume and then do some other measurements based on lower throughput as well."

"Why would you bother with lower volumes?" a woman in a smock asked.

"I come from the aircraft industry, ma'am," Kevin replied politely. "In that business, you test all the parameters. As I told John when I first came to work for him, bad things happen when airplanes fall out of the sky. Our job is make sure we know what to expect in all situations. This heat is a good test of one of the environmental situations. We'll also be testing in cold conditions. If we can think of a test, we'll test it," he grinned.

I saw several of the group nodding in agreement. Kevin had once again scored some points.

"You said you would normally have the unit covered," a young Hispanic man spoke. "Wouldn't that cause problems with excessive heat or overheating the components on a day like this?

"Yes, I expect it could," Kevin replied. "Our first objective is to determine if the internal machinery does what it's supposed to do. Then we'll install the shrouds to see if it makes a difference. We've applied some new technology to some of the parts that should make them less vulnerable to heat. But we won't know until we test it."

The questions were coming thick and fast. I was standing beside Thomas who was standing along side Carl Whitehurst. They were observing the interaction of the group with Kevin and occasionally Georgette. When I thought about it, this was a good sign. There was genuine interest in our machine and I got the impression they were rooting for it to succeed.

"How did you get the idea to build this?" one young guy asked Kevin.

"I didn't. This is John Smith's concept and he's the brains behind the project."

A number of heads turned toward me and the questions began.

"You're really young. When did you think of this idea?" an older man asked.

"It started out as a high school science project in my junior year," I answered. "After I got an 'A' on my submission, I decided to see if I could make it a reality, a commercial product. Kevin is a huge help since he came from Lockheed-Martin and showed us exactly how a proper design should be done.

"Thomas Fulton, my fiancée's father, is financing the development. His expertise is in venture capital acquisition. Georgette does market research and keeps me on the straight and narrow. At least she did until I finished my last exam at university," I said, looking over to her with a smile. She looked a bit flushed as I mentioned her.

I could hear the murmurs from the group, obviously surprised at what I had accomplished.

It took Kevin and me an hour with the help of some of the assembled group to set up the first test and get ready to run. The output would be pumped into a stainless steel covered tank that was on wheels. Test samples would be taken to the lab for analysis and comparison to the input water. Our first test was chemically tainted water, presumably from fertilizer or herbicide. We weren't told which.

Three of the group had brought out a canopy that we could use to shade ourselves from the blazing sun. Georgette had thoughtfully brought a bottle of sun screen with her and we applied it liberally. By five o'clock that afternoon, we had completed our first tests and would know the results in the morning. The next day's tests would be on contaminated water from animal wastes as well as alkaline and mineralized water.

As the afternoon trial came to an end, we moved the machines into the building for the night. Georgette had already made reservations at a hotel in Sacramento for the four of us. Kevin and Thomas would share a room, as would Georgette and I. We invited Carl Whitehurst to join us at dinner and he accepted. Our hotel had an excellent dining room, Thomas assured us, and so we made a reservation for seven o'clock.