12 Aug. '93 - Thursday midnight

I made a total bokkelul of myself Tuesday afternoon. Christ! That damned fool, Derek Rayne, that I try so hard to keep disguised or tucked away is rearing his ugly head more often. I can't seem to keep him on his leash.

I received a letter from Maggie that verified my worst fears. She made light of the situation, but I know her predicament, and Nick's as well, may become quite serious. All because of my lack of self-control. God! If she's censured or I've damaged her career in any way, I don't know what I shall do. Nick's position is at least defensible via money and legalities. We can wage a proper war on his behalf, but Maggie is at the mercy of those who determine judicial ethics. I'm the only one who will escape Scot free. Although, I do suppose I could be gone after for trying to suborn the system or unduly influence a judge.

I was already in a bad mood when I received her missive. William had send me a terse little message. He's on his high horse and had to rub it in that he was 'keeping an eye on the lower echelons,' as he once put it. Stan and Ollie, indeed. Then, as I was reading Maggie's, Dominick distracted me with the vacuum and I exploded at him. I couldn't help myself. I have no right whatsoever to criticise or be angry him. He does a fine job and always has - often unseen and unthanked. He lends the house a stability and rhythm. I hope I've made amends.

I jumped in the Jaguar took off. I was actually surprised that it started - it's had so little exercise of late. However, it may have been Providence that sent me flying across the Richmond Bridge and on up I-80, little caring where I was going or why. I was just running. I nearly got myself in deeper - it hit 110 mph without a whimper. Thank God I didn't get nabbed by the CHP.

I was almost to Reno before I realized where I was. When I finally turned back I was calmer and low on gas. I pulled off at Soda Springs. Although it was dark, I recognized the place from long ago.

I may have had the investigation I need tossed into my lap - an unsolved case that was one of my very first as a full fledged Legacy member. I've always felt that there was more to the affair than what we discovered. It also has a number of factors that might make it suit my purposes quite well.

It was back in the mid-70s. Arthur Middleton had suffered a mild stroke and had moved into semi-retirement as Precept Emeritus of this House. William had taken charge as the active precept. I arrived shortly thereafter to assume control of Luna and to finally make Angel Island my home.

At the same time, I began to teach a couple of anthropology courses at the university, while I hurried to complete my theology dissertation under Arthur's guidance. I must call on him sometime soon - I've been neglectful.

There had been reports of "ghost" lights along the North Fork of the American River. Although not far from I-80 and numerous ski resorts, it is very rugged, desolate country. Over the years the lights had seemed to coincide with sporadic disappearances in the area - miners, hikers, river rafters and the like. Even considering the terrain, there were unusually high numbers for a couple hundred square miles. However, the disappearances seemed without rhyme or reason - no consistency whatsoever.

Energy readings were somewhat high over a rather large area, but we could never isolate a source. My own "sight" was much the same. The place set my teeth on edge - a definite feeling of something "oppressive" and "bitter", but nothing more. I recall that, after leaving the area, I had a headache and bad taste in my mouth for days. It was a taste of something rotten or metallic, like copper. I can still taste it - it turns my stomach. We did see the lights, but could not gauge their distance from us. They were quite elusive, almost like large, translucent fireflies. Then they vanished.

I must pull my personal files to refresh my memories. Before I proceed further, I shall check myself to see if there have been further developments.

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