Dissembling

eaving the matter in Mr. Henderson's hands in the hope that by week's end I'd have more to go on before sending Doug another email, I buckled down to matters relating to my business. We'd been battling with a contract dispute for more than two months, and after ultimately capitulated to their demands in mid September, all had appeared settled. The night of my return, there was another hiccup (wave of attack might be more appropriate an expression, in retrospect) in the contract issue that needed immediate legal intervention.

To add to the stress, DF called me that day, (we were some 4 months into legal process on the separate suit) asking why I had just called him. Rubbish! I'd deleted his phonebook entry from my cell phone 9 months ago and wouldn't dream of calling him and hadn't since he'd disappeared. He hung up mid sentence, probably hoping that I would be curious enough to call him back, but I knew it was a trap. Nevertheless, I caught enough of his threat that records of phone calls would be subpoenaed in court and "We'll see who is calling whom". I suspect he and KMC were getting a little uncomfortable about what the Court would make of the numerous calls they'd made to me during the prior year or more, and were hoping I'd engage in the same idiotic pranks.

I pressed on with the business contract issue to see if a resolution could be made, to little avail. Time to bring in the big guns, I contacted our corporate counsel. I imagine that the volume of calls to and fro for the next few days between lawyers and mediators was sufficiently distracting that when Mr. Henderson called late on Friday evening, I was juggling two lines at one time. Our conversation was interrupted several times, and perhaps I missed a little of the content as I was going back and forth. He said that the initial electronic search on "Doug Reynolds" had come up blank. But they'd keep working on it. He recommended that in the next few days I compile a list of facts about Doug ~ anything that could be of importance derived from our conversations, emails, message boards and send it to him as soon as possible. Since time was of the essence he felt it wise to also find the point of origination for Doug's emails. I was asked to forward more email headers, regardless of the fact that they were delivered from an Anonmyizer account. I was a little puzzled as to how this would assist, but he answered "We have the technology" but would need another $500 retainer for the outside computer tech research firm. I queried how much this search was going to cost, and he assured me that whatever retainer was not used would be returned. Anxious to get something moving in the right direction, I agreed.

In preparing the list for Henderson that week-end, I logged on to ILW to glean anything that "irritated" might have mentioned in his posts that could be of assistance. Of course, I had not chatted with the ILW group since Doug's departure. The clan had disbanded. "Dick" hadn't been seen regularly on ILW for some time; "George" had disappeared; "Anne" made an occasional post now and then. The board was largely used by new faces on the scene with only a couple of long-standing members like sphyrapicus, Michael and Aguila who were active in the wee hours of the night as the ILW clan used to be.

Empirical research ~ fragmentation

arooned at home for the next three days, I took the opportunity to begin to mentally review all the information that Doug and I had shared in the previous 10 months, to see if I had overlooked a fact or clue that would shed light on his real location. I had little to go on, other than his emails, as right from our first online encounter he'd requested that I not archive our chats, citing that it would add to his general sense of discomfort, and especially since this relationship was developing in an online environment.

Knowing that Mr. Hunt wouldn't be able to begin until late November meant at least a month before I would begin to know what was going on. Although by nature I am a very patient person, I was keen to make contact with Doug, in fact, my last email in October had gone unanswered and I was due for my once-every-three week contact. Additionally, although I was not at all inclined to agree, I could hardly just dismiss the comments that Mr. Hunt had made. I decided to search the internet to look for another service company in the area. I stumbled upon an advertisement for Missing Link in Atlanta and proceeded to send a generic email from their website, asking if they could assist me in finding out the name and company information for a person I was interested in meeting. Within minutes an email reply appeared in my inbox with instructions for me to provide my phone number. I complied.

When the phone rang the voice was male with a distinctly Southern accent. Polished and polite, he proceeded to give me a brief recap of his background in investigative work and the range of services his company provides. He assured me that he would have no problem finding the information I needed. Deep inside I felt terribly conflicted. Doug was an intensely private person and I knew that there was a reason for it, and yet both investigators, so far, had said essentially the same thing to me. "You have a right to know who you've been communicating with for nearly a year. Outside his trip to the West Coast, you spent more than 600 hours chatting. That's a significant amount of time and especially after the betrayal in your marriage. You're very, very vulnerable and a good person will understand completely why this is not only necessary but prudent and very wise".

The conversation continued. I was asked to provide a summary of the issues and he replied with a laundry list of possible services available. A retainer of $1,200.00 would be required before the work was to begin. Mr. Henderson's schedule was wide open.

"If you email me the data and wire the funds immediately, I'll get right to it" he shared. I ended the conversation with a request, "Please, this is my friend, I care for him dearly and I want this to be done electronically. No visits, no surveillance, nothing like that. Just a name address and phone number check. He's my only friend and I feel horribly even thinking about doing this". "Not to worry, ma'am. We're completely discreet" was Henderson's reply.

Never having used Western Union before I enquired of the process and was told that instructions would be forthcoming in an email. Moments later, upon receipt of Missing Link's proposal and pro forma, I made the transfer of funds.

Upon returning to the office, to add to the lingering exhaustion, unsettled feelings and deep disappointment I was feeling from the failed attempt to meet Doug (yes, a wild goose chase would be an apt way to put it), I learned that my business had been under intense attack while I had been away, as well.

Survival strategem ~ Behavioural & morphological variation

elatively late the following day, Scott Hunt called pursuant to the conversation we'd had and the information contained in my email. He announced that he had both "good" and "bad" news. First the bad news was offered. His company had been retained to provide services related to the upcoming election primary (Tallahassee being the capitol seat) and as a result he would not be able to begin any contract until after that was completed. Disappointing news for me, in point of fact, because I was not intending to inform Doug that I'd been to Florida yet, and wished to maintain contact by email. "Not a problem, Ma'am. I could begin some time in late November" Scott declared.

The "good" was that if I wished to identify the correct company that Doug was associated with in Tallahassee, Mr. Hunt believed that it shouldn't be too difficult, if just some of the range of facts I had about Doug were true. Of course, we both suspected that "Doug Reynolds" was not his name, nor was RS&H, necessarily, the company Doug ran. If none of the facts were true then we'd be starting from scratch, almost like finding a needle in a haystack, but even so, not an insurmountable task. Just a lot more costly and time consuming to accomplish. More important than the fact that more work would be required to perform the search, was what Hunt claimed as the hazard that should be identified.

"Hazard?" I enquired, "Yes, Ma'am. I don't wish to be at all alarmist, but it might be wise to investigate further, should we run into any "what ifs". You should at least consider it,” he answered. Mr. Hunt had been apprised of the manner in which Doug and I had met and the fact that I had been forthcoming on matters regarding my identity. Doug had significant information about me that I wouldn't necessarily have shared with a stranger, under normal circumstances. "Simply put, your friend chose not to disclose his true identity. I'd be inclined to want to know who has this information about you and why".

The whole notion was disturbing to even contemplate and I assured Mr. Hunt that I was certain that there were no untoward motives behind Doug's friendship with me. "Well, I hope you're right, but we'll soon see. I can contact you in mid November to see if you wish to move forward then" he said. I couldn't embrace the thought that Doug had an underlying MO, as Mr. Hunt had speculated and rested on the knowledge that Doug was of significant wealth and having been betrayed in the past it had caused him to be very, very wary and, as he claimed, somewhat "paranoid" as a consequence.

Analogies to science, more specifically to biology and ecology have been commonplace throughout this blog. Hence, why could it not also be conceivable that humans would employ means for protection as other members of the animal kingdom do? It's not at all unusual for individuals of certain species or communities to develop clear survival strategies as a means of protection. For example, birds engage in a variety of survival techniques to include:

~ selection of safe habitats that are out of reach ~ choosing a roost location where known and natural predators would be scarce and making sure their nests are located in dense cover, if not to prevent predators from approaching, at least providing some form of alert when they do.
~ flight ~ the most simple and direct means and one reason many small birds have such quick reflexes.
~ employing "mobbing" strategies ~ this involves surrounding a predator and calling incessantly from nearby branches alerting others in the assemblage to the location of the predator
~ flocking ~ some species work as a collective group in intimidating and frustrating a would be predator
~ aggressive harassment ~ harassment serves to make any unwelcome intruder uncomfortable enough to leave the immediate vicinity
~ behavioural distraction ~ using distinct colouration patterns of plumage and engaging or luring the predator's attention from the nest and drawing a predator away
~ colouration or camouflage ~ plumage camouflage assists the bird in appearing to blend with its natural environment, coupled with an ability to remain motionless when a predator approaches.

Colouration is an interesting phenomenon. Take for example, once again, the Melanerpes formicivorus, or Acorn Woodpecker. Hesiquio Benitez-Diaz performed a study on the Geographic Variation in Coloration and Morphology of the Acorn Woodpecker. His empirical data revealed that even though geographic variation is considered relatively slight, there still exists some differentiation from communities in Northern California and those native to regions farther south.

His research proved that plumage colouration varied in the following
~ Throat colouration ranges from white to a bright yellowish hue (Colombian populations exhibit bright yellow throats, whereas populations native to Mexico have stark white throats)
~ Upper chest region ~ red feathers are either present or absent (red feathers on the chest present in Panamanian communities);
~ Streaking on the chest ranges from minimal, as in narrow bands to heavy thick black bands (breast streaking becomes lighter in the southern populations) and finally the degree and colour of iridescence on the back plumage ranges from a bluish to greenish hue.

Further to his work, subtle morphological variance was observed in terms of the length and depth of the bill; the width of the beak; the dimensions of the tail; the length of the bird's leg (tarsus) and the wing chord.

Benitez-Diaz concluded that there were 7 distinct geographic groups of populations of Acorn Woodpeckers. The Bairdi comprised populations from Oregon to California where populations from Arizona and New Mexico throughout most of Mexico were members of the Formicivorus group. The Angustifons inhabited pine-oak woodlands in the mountains of Baja California, while theLineatus were located from Oaxaca to Nicaragua. The Albeolus group were noted in the north of Honduras and Belize. TheStriatipectus were native to the mountains of Costa Rica and Panama and finally the Flavigula group comprised populations in the Andes. Indeed, species morphology relates to their environment.

Given that camouflage, mimicry or displays are used in other organisms as a means of protection from harm, was it not entirely possible, therefore, that Doug may have employed some of these techniques to protect himself? Adopting a different name or company affiliation could have been some form of distraction, or alternatively, perhaps his personnel had used some form of flocking when I made my approach. I realised that some of these questions wouldn't be answered until Mr. Hunt had done some preliminary footwork.

Tears: the silent language of grief ~ Voltaire

oor-to-door in just over 25 hours, stopping only to answer the call of nature, for a short cat-nap in a rest area somewhere in the middle of nowhere and to refuel. I don't know what guided me back to my office, nor do I recall even paying attention to the route. All I remember was Mr. Hunt's instructions and some off-hand comments he'd made which were disconcerting, and hurtful to contemplate.

I'd initially called him to see if he could find out more about this supposed merger, and if there was a possibility that any of John F. Reynolds kin may be associated with another engineering company in Tallahassee. I remember Doug speaking of his work involving DSP and although it was a term I wasn't entirely familiar with at the time, I knew that it was related to computers.

I pulled up to my office. Thankfully, all of my staff had left for the night. I certainly did not wish for anyone to know I was already back in town, having told them that I'd be gone for upwards of two weeks. Besides, there'd be too many questions. I had confided in one person that I was intending to meet someone I'd been chatting with (for security purposes) and I couldn't face telling anyone what I'd discovered. I dashed upstairs even though I was terribly exhausted and drained, I wanted to provide Mr. Hunt with the information he'd requested. I turned on my computer and began to "google" DSP. Digital Signal Processing came up on the screen and went on to describe it as the computer technology used in data analysis in the world of science and engineering. "Images from remote space probes, voltages generated by the heart and brain, radar and sonar echoes, seismic vibrations, and countless other applications. Digital Signal Processing is the science of using computers to understand these types of data. This includes a wide variety of goals: filtering, speech recognition, image enhancement, data compression, neural networks, etc".

Still no better informed, I copied the information into an email to send to Mr. Hunt along with a general thumbnail rendition of our cell phone conversation. Then, timidly, I opened the first couple of emails that I'd received from Doug in January of that year, and according to the instructions copied the header information into the email, as Scott had recommended. I completed the email enclosing the personal contact information Scott had requested from me and instructions to call me the following day at home.

Send. The email left my inbox, and I was both hopeful and nervous, for what the results might reveal. I gathered some work and shoved it into my briefcase. I wouldn't be able to return to the office for a few days, lest anyone would see me. Despite not having caught more than a couple of hours sleep the night prior, I was restless, feeling completely numb and though I wanted to roam the beaches of Fiji that evening, as I had for so many nights since I met Doug, no matter how I tried, I couldn't fall asleep that night.

'What bird so sings, yet so does wail?

O,'tis the ravished nightingale!

"Jug, jug, jug, jug, tereu", she cries,

And still her woes at midnight rise. ~ Lyly

Perturbation method

y the end of the second week in October 2004, the violent hurricane season in Florida had tailed off and plans once again resumed with the liaison for the group in Jacksonville with respect to arranging a meeting as soon as possible.

Having no social contact with anyone in this area for the prior year or more and with no particular interest in celebrating my semicentennial birthday (yes, 50 years, egads!) I decided that a week in Tallahassee after my meetings would be a suitable and pleasant way in which to embark on the next and hopefully more delightful chapter in my life.

I chose to drive, rather than fly, to give myself more flexibility and have the opportunity to leave my schedule as open-ended as possible. I knew that my surprise visit might find Doug unable to break away, immediately, from work requirements, but hoped that we could at least meet and then see what might be arranged. In fact, if necessary, should he need a couple of days to clear his schedule, I could always head down to Boca Grande to spend a few days in my family vacation home in the meantime, until he could arrange some time off.

I piled the suitcases in my vehicle and scanned the map to review my planned route. My plan was to divide the trip to Florida into a little over two days, if at all practical. The trip of more than 1,200 miles flashed by, most likely due to my excitement to finally meet Doug in person. I tied up my consultations with the investors within three days upon arrival in Jacksonville, and on Sunday evening set out for the couple of hours drive across the state to the panhandle.

I pulled into the hotel in Tallahassee just before 9:00PM and checked into the suite. I knew I wouldn't rest that night, and drew a hot bubble bath and enjoyed a glass of my favourite shiraz. Surprisingly, I slept well and awoke fully rested the next morning. I rustled through the mixture of business and casual attire that I had toted with me on the 1200 mile trek and opted to wear a white blouse and a black miniskirt with a pair of strappy black high-heeled sandals. That would be ideal!

Just after 10:00AM, I set out for the short drive over to the Reynolds Smith & Hills office on Raymond Diehl Road. Upon pulling up to the main entrance, for a moment I reflected on whether it would have been a good idea to have at least called before coming. On the other hand, when called to the lobby by his secretary, I wanted to see the look on his face to see me standing there. I tucked both photographs he'd sent me into my purse before entering the building and proceeded to ask for Doug.

Doug?" she asked. "Yes, Doug. May I see him? I won't take too much of his time" I replied. "I'm sorry there's no Doug here. Are you sure you have the correct name?" she replied. "I'm sorry, I should have been a little clearer, may I see Mr. Reynolds. That would be Mr. Reynolds, the son of the founder of the company. I have photographs". I smiled as I realised that he had given me the wrong first name, little bugger, I thought and proceeded to pull out the photographs to pass to her. With that she excused herself and whistled through the door to the right of the room.

About twenty minutes passed before she returned. "We have no Mr. Reynolds here. Mr. Reynolds was a founder of the business many, many years ago, prior to the first merger in the 1960s, but there is no relative of Mr. John F. Reynolds that is working for RS&H at this time or ever as far as I know. None of us knows who this person is. I checked with our corporate headquarters in Jacksonville, but there's no one by that name in the organisation in Florida. There must be some mistake, I'm sorry" she replied. I struggled to conceal the shock and noticed my hands were trembling as I reached out to take the photographs from her. "Thank you so much for your trouble. I beg your pardon; you've been most helpful ". I wanted to run towards to door to exit but didn't wish to draw attention to the aching and paralysing feeling that was welling up inside.

Once safely out of sight and in my car, the first tears began to erupt and stream down my face. I raced back to the hotel; tossed my belongings in the suitcase and dashed to the foyer to check out. The few minutes that the desk attendant took to pull up my folio and process the charges to my account seemed like an age. She asked if all had been to my liking, most likely because I had reserved the room for a week and was checking out after one night. I replied that there was an emergency and that I was being called out of town and hustled out of the hotel and towards my vehicle parked in the loading zone. I launched the suitcase into the back and plopped behind the steering wheel, trembling. I was still wearing the clothes I'd carefully selected for my first encounter, and slipped off my heels and placed them on the seat next to me. I didn't even stop for coffee, a staple of my daily diet, before navigating the streets to the highway that would take me for the 1200 mile trip back home. Home? What home? I knew I belonged nowhere.

The sign for the Georgia border loomed and whistled past me as I raced north-bound on the highway, clenching the steering wheel in the hope that it would control what appeared to be involuntary shaking. Tears streamed down my face like an endless waterfall. I decided that before crossing the Florida border in Georgia, I should attempt to make a call. I had no idea how cell phone reception would be for the next couple of hours of the trip. I pulled over under an overpass, dried my eyes and proceeded to remove a crumpled piece of yellow paper from my purse that I'd torn from the phonebook in the hotel suite. Besides, I knew I had to make the call now or else I would not be able to stumble through the information. The font was small and my contact lenses were tear smeared and made reading the fine print difficult. I selected one of the bolder entries and began to dial. The phone rang three times before a woman answered "Good Morning, Executive Investigations of Tallahassee. May I help you?"

I'd travelled across the entire state of Georgia and was approaching the northern border later that day before Scott Hunt returned my call.

Chains and webs ~ in ecological terms

Those following this recount will note that the spider symbolises my ex-husband and his cohort and a web, the tool used to capture me. In an ideal world, one could suggest that after narrowly escaping annihilation, upon identifying that a spider and a web could be extremely hazardous for a creature like me, all one would have to do to survive would be to make sure one never "happened upon" a web or its host, a spider, again. All well and fine, that is in an environment where creatures like me are the desired supply for spider consumers alone ~ in other words in a simple “food chain”. However, the trophic structure of most habitats is not represented as a single chain, but are a series of chains, interconnected ~ more akin to a web, with more than one species vying to consume a food supply.

Theoretically, one could suggest that if by some top-down control, that is removal of spiders from the habitat, then creatures like me could prosper without threat to survival. Except that in practice there are a couple of other crucial points to consider. First, I’m a source of nutrition to more than one species. Remember ~ it’s not a food chain, but a web.

Feeding the white wolf

arma. I’m not at all religious, but I do believe in karma. While at Princeton University, a thorough familiarity with Buddhist principle was necessary in the research required to produce my thesis in East Asian Studies. Rendered to its simplest non-theological terms, karma is the law of cause and effect, of action and reaction.

Buddhism treats karma as an ethical principle and determines that actions affect consequences, but Buddhist doctrine is not at all aligned with the idea and common misconception that karma punishes those that commit wrong, rather, it is the focus on the primary impulse for one’s deeds ~ taking responsibility for one’s own actions and the relative good or evil intentions behind them. In fact, the nature of the karma that arises out of a deed has little to do with results generated, but more to do with the intention of the causation ~ the psychological impulse behind a deed governs the karmic response.

I’ve adopted this ethical precept throughout my life. Inspired essentially with doing the “right thing” despite pressure and opposition at times. The impetus for taking action based less upon a desired outcome or result, than on wishing to feed the “White Wolf”.

A young Cherokee is brought before the tribal elders, concerned with his aggressive tendencies. One elder takes the young man aside and tells him that his anger is understandable, since all humans have two wolves residing within them. One wolf is good and peaceable (the white wolf); the other is evil and angry (the black wolf).
The two wolves are in constant battle with one another, since neither is powerful enough to destroy the other. The young man asks the elder "But if the wolves are of equal power, which wolf will win?" The elder replies, "The one you feed the most."

The delay of my trip to the South was an uncontrollable turn of events. In September Doug had sent a brief email to me, stating that he was currently in Idaho Falls opening a new office for Reynolds, Smith & Hills. I presumed he’d be there for the rest of the month. Were it not for the various forces that delayed my trip, I might not have seen the official United States Citizenship & Immigration Service envelope in my mailbox in early September 2004. During the prior 12 months, I’d had reason to believe DF could be checking the mailbox, for one reason or another. A renewal form from the Secretary of State for my vehicle went missing in early 2004 (DF's birthday and mine were within days, and I suspect he confused it for his), there was the mystical appearance of my birth certificate in the mailbox in August and other similar incidents, so the thought was not at all far-fetched.

The envelope was addressed to DF at my home address, and I suspect it was either a notice of action or adjudication on the jointly filed I-751 petition that had been submitted in April 2003. Now by this time I had participated in enough online discussions on immigration message boards to realise that sometimes USCIS change of address forms do little to ensure that information is changed in the central immigration database.

Nevertheless, in feeding the white wolf, I followed the instructions that were printed on the upper left hand corner of the official envelope, and returned the letter to Lincoln Nebraska.

Wrath of nature

Charley's pernicious entrance on the Gulf coast was but the first of a series of hurricanes to hit Florida in late summer that year. I'd fielded a number of phone calls from an individual acting as liaison for a group of investors intent on establishing a venue in Florida fashioned after the one I direct here. Discussions ensued through the last few weeks in July and August and culminated in an invitation for me to visit, take a look at the area and offer consultation services. Given the threat of storms for the better part of late summer, we delayed the business trip to the Jacksonville area until the weather was more hospitable.

Naturally, my plan was to combine this series of meetings in Jacksonville with a jaunt over to Tallahassee to meet Doug once he was settled in after his return. But both August and September would see nature's wrath in full force and made travelling unwise. Hence the business trip was put off a number of times. While watching the weather forecasts, and knowing of the likelihood that I'd be in his area, I had been in touch by email with Doug. I wondered how he was faring, especially since the storms had caused a fair amount of damage in the panhandle. That's when he told me that "Folie a Deux" had been destroyed in the latest hurricane.

While storms continued to rage in the South, I felt tempest-tossed by the Defendants' apparent manipulation of Court process. Having 21 days to file an answer to the civil complaint, their answer was due the last week of July. The Defendants missed filing by the deadline. Since DF had shown utter defiance of court protocol in the past, I'd instructed my counsel to watch the filing deadline carefully, and make haste to file a Motion for Default if opportunity presented itself. Sure enough one week passed, and a Default was entered. Much to my dismay, Defendant's counsel opposed the motion and requested the judgment be set aside, using grounds that his clients were "unsophisticated laypeople" and had inadvertently mistaken the date of service.

Unsophisticated? Hardly! These were individuals who'd planned and deliberated each step in their scheme and were hoping that if they ignored the complaint it would simply and timidly go away. Arrgh! The case was set for trial. I'd be forced to wait for both the turbulence in the South and the commotion here to pass before I would be able to move onto more pleasant activities.

"Weaving spiders, come not here"

mmediate relief from their intervention into my personal life was an instant purpose of the lawsuit. Once served, the calls from DF and KMC subsided. I surmised that most likely they'd been advised by counsel that with civil process underway, it wouldn't be a good idea to continue to hound me, as they had since DF vanished. Naturally, I was thankful for the reprieve. And while I expected that any of the funds DF had squirreled from the marriage would likely be long gone by the time legal process would be consummated, my interest was for the most part to meet the offenders face-to-face in a court room, to show them that I had not deserved to be so deceived, and that honesty in marriage was paramount.

Weaving spiders, come not here
Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence!
Beetles black, approach not near;
Worm nor snail, do no offence

~ A Midsummer Night's Dream, Shakespeare

Unlike June, days in July lingered and the month seemed to creep along at a snail's pace. Even though activities in my business were more hectic than prior years, it must have been the anticipation of Doug's return in July that made it feel as if the month would never end.

On top of it all, when Doug did touch base with me by email, he reported that he'd met with some delay in the project on the West Coast, and expected not to be finished for yet another three weeks.

Tempus fugit, NOT!

Virtue and vice

The call came in at 9:30pm on July 2, 2004 to report that the Defendants had been successfully served the complaint only a few minutes prior at KMC's home. I was relieved that I'd received word before the upcoming long holiday weekend. The process server announced that both DF and KMC were stunned to answer the door to find him present each, yes, that's right, each a copy of the complaint.

More than 2 months had passed since the divorce was settled, yet DF's recalcitrance to comply with any of the requirements mandated by the Court had continued well after the process was over. He still had keys to all of my facilities, the handful of Agreements conveying 50% interest to him in my businesses and properties, that had been coerced from me under false pretenses, had not been returned, nor had the company laptop and he had not signed a Quitclaim on my home, preventing me from either selling it or trying to seek a mortgage with a better interest rate. Not to mention the periodic calls from both of them to affect more pressure and threats.

I'd deliberated over filing a separate claim against them for quite some time, hoping that, at the very least, he'd respect the declaration of the Court and comply for the first time in the process. It became crystal clear to me that retrieving anything awarded to me in the divorce was equivalent to prying something from a vice grip. I'd been gracious throughout the entire 18 months that preceded the day we'd terminated our union, never voicing my thoughts on their activities, quietly dealing with whatever was thrust in my path and basically concentrating on recovering from the whole episode.

Clearly DF, and to some degree even KMC, had under-estimated me and my requests that we settle the matter in a fair and equitable fashion and move forward without intervention. I'd hoped we could have ended the situation in an amicable fashion. His recent defiant stance to ignore Court order was in typical fashion and forced me to accept that I'd have to take a firmer position and seek redress. Furthermore, this new claim should have come as no surprise, as DF had agreed by signing the Consent Judgment of divorce that the Court had preserved my right to do so.

Indeed, while I had been generous in gesture from the beginning and had exercised "virtue" at every stage, they'd opted to always favour "vice".
Dante's Divine Comedy ranks the seven vices, in order of severity as:

• pride or vanity ~ an excessive love of self
• avarice or greed ~ a desire to possess more than one has need or use for
• lust ~ excessive uncontrollable sexual desire
• wrath or anger ~ feelings of hatred, revenge or even denial, as well as punitive desires outside of justice
• gluttony ~ overindulgence in food, drink or intoxicants
• envy or jealousy ~ resentment of others for their possessions
• laziness, idleness or wastefulness

The Defendants would have 21 days to proffer an answer to the counts of Fraud, Intentional Infliction of Emotional Distress, Conspiracy, Slander and Breach of Fiduciary Duty.

NB: The keys were finally returned in October 2004, (6 months after the divorce) The Quitclaim would not be signed until November 24, 2005 (18 months after the divorce) and to this date, some 2 years later, the Agreements and the laptop, haven't been returned either.

Contingency theory

ack to scientific principle for a moment. I began this exposé with the analogy of a spider and its web and the manner in which one organism traps prey and immobilises it, consumes it and derives a source of nourishment from it. Bear in mind that specific behaviour, that of the spider and indeed the prey, has to do with fitness or survival of the species.

In the ecology arena, the Contingency Theory is a mathematical model which permits us to determine when an organism should consume a less profitable, but much more abundant food source and when the organism should pass this food source up in search of a more profitable, but scarcer source. It would appear logical that an organism would seek out the most profitable return for its efforts, but not necessarily. One could simplify this by saying that to a predator one food source might require more resources to find, yet yield a higher degree of nutritional value. Alternatively, one food source might be readily available, and therefore require less effort to secure, yet provide less in terms of reward. There's an interplay between the costs expended and the benefits received. In essence, contingent.

It would be logical to conclude that I might have appeared no longer a profitable food source to KMC and DF. I had, essentially, been stripped of just about anything they deemed of value. However, what is profitable to one organism, may not be to another and additionally, the requisite value of the source is directly related to the efforts required and expended to retrieve it.

Despite having less in the way of liquid monetary substance, I still had hope and enthusiasm; an intense interest in not allowing myself to become cynical and mistrusting, as a consequence and an intense passion to find genuine, mutual and complimentary companions. Could it, therefore, be hypothesised that even though I felt I'd been exhausted while on and struggling to escape the web, I still could be viewed by another organism as a source of yet further supply?

A journey of more than a 2,000 miles, at the end of the summer of 2004 would show whether this hypothesis proved true...

Environmental challenges

June finally arrived and so did the warmth and sunshine ~ and many visitors to the area. I was swamped with business activities, but welcomed the pace, as it meant the days moved swiftly and my loneliness was not going to be long-lived. After all, there was the invite to sail aboard "Folie a Deux" as soon as Doug finished his contract ~ by my estimation he would probably be back at the beginning of July.

I'd taken a short leave of absence from the ILW site in late April, to allow the aggressions from BS to subside and only began posting again in late June after Doug made one of his few appearances on the board. Since both of us were aware that our activity was being monitored by BS we used code to communicate publicly for the most part. His posts indicated that his project was nearing completion, although he was still in California and I conveyed that I was looking forward to his return.

In private email correspondence, I'd queried how everything was in Doug's hometown, was anyone looking after his home while he was gone and was he aware that the summer of 2004 was predicted to bring a rash of severe hurricanes through the area. He replied that he had someone who'd been looking after the house and grounds and moving his black Toyota truck occasionally from its permanent position in the driveway of his home to simulate that he was still in Tallahassee and that as far as he knew all was still intact.

In my locale, the tourist season was well underway, and the small town bursting at the seams. The swells of people flooding through our doors during the day was a promising business omen, and provided a welcome distraction from the drudgery associated with the need for yet another legal process, which would be filed at the beginning of July. I was not relishing the thought of another rash of unpleasant activities from them. Anxious not to encounter either DF or KMC, I focused my efforts on my business affairs and enjoyed the solace of my daily late evening practice of running the 5 miles of private beach that bordered my property to work off the stress that came with a busy season and the frequent hang up phone calls I'd received from them.

Debts of gratitude

ithout a doubt DF's failure to disclose the status of his accounts meant there could be no equitable distribution of assets and liabilities in the divorce process. What I knew he'd absconded with was not returned and the Consent Judgment of Divorce only called for him to deliver the keys to my properties, my marriage license and a laptop computer that he'd been using that belonged to the joint business. I was awarded the home (that is, my home, that now had an enormous mortgage and less than 10% equity remaining) the businesses (one the target of DF's breach of fiduciary duty and thoroughly abused) and the other business, in which I had a significant investment with an additional stock option maturing later that month for which I would need to place my hands on a sizeable sum of money.

The justice system did not serve me well in the dismantling of my marriage, principally due to this failure to disclose, while I had complied with Court mandate and had itemised all the assets in my possession at the time. In summary, my ex-husband had taken all he needed from me ~ all the cash he could place his hands on, all of the liquid assets and left me with, yes, all marital liabilities. To liquidate would mean selling my businesses and losing the source of any future income. It was too precarious to consider that option, leaving myself without a means to live in a small sleepy community. I'd be faced with strict and harsh limitations on my lifestyle, often requiring me to go without many creature comforts to meet my obligations until such time that I could find a way to recover that which had been stolen. A shocking and totally disparate resolution considering the career path I'd followed to place me in a top executive position in business and the short term of the marital union.

Nonetheless, I emerged from my divorce with something worth far more than goods and chattels - I had "hope". Hope that I would find happiness in the future. Hope that my trust, compassion, sincerity and friendship would be appreciated. And finally, hope that I could believe sentiments, words, promises and gestures offered to me, once more....and, additionally, a chance now to finally meet Doug, who'd been so supportive, comforting and kind to me. I owed him a debt of gratitude and of course I wanted to see where the friendship we'd developed would take us.....