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Saturday, September 13th Port Alberni, BC

As he drove towards Port Alberni, Hank MacDougall thought about his wife. Mira had left that morning for another shopping trip in New Mexico. She loved sand paintings, adobe dwellings, anything Navaho, and she loved Santa Fe. ‘Well,’ he thought, ‘she’s entitled to.’ She had raised their three children entirely on her own while Hank was building the MacDougall empire. He had doubled the size of the holdings in his first five years of control, and doubled it again by the next ten. ‘She can spend it, she definitely earned it.’

He pulled into the empty parking lot of the Cannery next to the harbour. The plant hadn’t operated on weekends for months, now the catch was down even further. They’d converted to other fish when cod fishing was restricted, but that was dwindling now too. He shook it off. It doesn’t matter. If the meeting goes as they all hoped, the Cannery will be gone. He backed his pickup out of the lot and turned towards the CafĂ©.

Hank made some quick notes as he drove, of things he must put in place – maybe he had a year – maybe less:

1. Sell the trucking division on the mainland. Should get a good price, contact personnel about moving the staff to the island.
2. Hire more local help – through Wilma and others – for the projects.

The top of his list though, was occupied solely by today’s meeting. As he neared, he saw the dust still settling around Elliot’s Lexus. Hank was pretty much a lone wolf, but that little fun idea Gloria had so many years ago tied the three of them permanently together. "And now," said Henry Laughton MacDougall the Third, "it’s about to get real serious." He pulled up in front of the New Moon, clicked off the engine, bounded over the steps and walked through the front door.