Parker sighed. “I understood the danger the moment I stepped back on my property after the fire. I’ve lived there my whole life and vividly remember a winter about eight years ago when the boundaries of the dry creek bed overflowed. I can only imagine what will happen when it starts to rain.”
“Have you ever experienced a flash flood?” Ed asked.
“Not outside of Universal Studios or the evening news.”
Ed moved a map around on the table and pointed out landmarks. “The Creek Canyon fire removed fifty miles of vegetation, dense vegetation, surrounding your entire canyon.”
“I live there. I’m aware of that.”
“Right. However, you may not know the sheer amount of debris that will funnel through your property, and likely take out many of your neighbors’ homes downstream.”
Parker looked at Colin. “Are there any other stress points up and down the canyon?”
Colin was actually impressed that she called the areas in question stress points. She’d either listened very intently when he was walking with her on the property, or she had done some homework before coming in. “There are, but none that we have any hope of controlling.” Colin pointed to the map. “There is a debris basin here that we will spend some time in, but the wash spreads out here and will contain much of the runoff until it empties into the river. This water flow doesn’t directly impact your street.”
Ed tapped his finger on the map. “But this does. Steep mountains on all sides will give the volume significant power if we get any real rain.”
“It won’t take much to cause issues,” Raul stated.
Parker looked up from the map, her hands wringing in her lap. “So what is the plan?”
Colin saw Raul reach for the paperwork Parker would need to eventually sign, and cut him off.
“The engineers are working on details, but basically, and correct me if I’m wrong here, Ed . . . basically the goal is to build structures, two of them here and here. The one closest to the mouth of the canyon will be somewhere around the space of three football fields long and two wide. And deep. The second about half that size.” He pointed to a second map that they pulled off of a Google aerial. “Behind the structures we will excavate the site to provide debris to pool and slow down the flow.”
Parker leaned forward and stopped wringing her hands together long enough to pull the map closer. “This is the original dam?”
“Yes.”
“And you want to build these structures here and here?”
Colin nodded.
“Why not go above the dam? There’s a lot of space there.”
Ed shook his head. “That’s the forest. Not our jurisdiction.”
“We can’t touch that land,” Raul offered.
“Why not? There’s nothing there now.”
“That’s just not how it works. We’ve attempted throughout the years to get the forestry’s cooperation, but they believe the forest shouldn’t be touched for any reason.”
Parker’s brows furrowed. “But someone built the dam at some point and didn’t maintain it. It’s been full for as long as I can remember.”
“These structures were often one-time projects designed to put America to work during times of recession or after wars. The departments that created them never had contractual need to go in and maintain them. Our only place of impact is where Colin has pointed out. Now our emergency team is working on permits and funding somewhere to the tune of thirty-five million to fund this—”
“Thirty-five million?” Parker’s jaw dropped.
“We’re looking at removing thirty thousand cubic yards of material on-site, shoring up the sides with boulders to help with erosion, building the temporary ‘dams’ as you’re calling them,” Colin explained.
“Cubic yards?” The deer-in-the-headlights look was back again.
“It’s a lot.”
“Define a lot.” She looked him in the eye.
Okay, no simple answers for Annie Oakley. There was no way to sugarcoat this. “A dump truck will haul anywhere from ten to fifteen cubic yards in each load.”
Parker paused. “That’s a lot of loads.” She moved her gaze away to stare at the map.
“What we’re doing here today, Miss Sinclair, is obtaining your permission to use your property to address this problem that will impact your community.” Ed nodded to Raul.
Raul pushed a paper across the table. “We need you to sign these so we can keep moving forward.”
Parker reached for them and started to read.
The room fell silent as she did.
“When do you need this by?”
Raul’s assistant tapped on a binder at his side. “I can notarize your signature today.”
Colin watched her rubbing her thumbs on her forefingers. “I need to have my attorney look these over.”
“You’ll find this is just an ingress and egress and temporary-use contract. We will return your property back to its current state in five years,” Ed said.
“Five years?”
“The amount of time it takes for vegetation to grow back after a fire and the threat of erosion passes.” Colin kept his voice soft. He could tell by her expression the full scale of what they were asking was settling in. “Once the retention basins are built, we will need to be able to access them to remove debris buildup between storms.”
“I-I need to talk with my lawyer.” Her voice wavered.
“We need your cooperation,” Ed said again.
“She didn’t say no, Ed . . . she said she needed her attorney to look over the contract.” Grace reached over and patted Parker’s arm. “It’s a reasonable request. One everyone at this table would make if they were in your shoes.”
Ed sat back and narrowed his eyes at Colin.
“When did you want to start this . . . project?” she asked.
“As soon as possible,” Ed muttered.
“Realistically, we will need to come on-site in the next couple weeks with the engineers and survey team and devise a solid plan. We will rush the permit process and the city will find the money.” Colin wanted to cover her shaking hand with his. “Mid-October is my best guess.”
“And how long will it take? The first round?” Parker met his eyes.
“Six to eight weeks.”
“Our rain usually starts in mid-November.”
“Let’s hope we have another year of drought.”
Ed sat forward and tried again. “We could expedite if you sign this today.”
Parker shifted her gaze and narrowed her eyes. “I will sign your papers. But not until the estate lawyer looks them over. I can’t imagine there is anything here that goes against what my parents left me in charge of doing. But since they’re not here and I didn’t go to law school, you’re going to have to wait.” Her voice was firm and direct, even if her hands shook as she folded the contract and reached for her purse. “It sounds like you have a lot of work to do, so I won’t keep you from it.” She pushed out of her chair.
Grace moved to her side. “I’ll show you out.”
Colin wanted to follow but held back. Once she exited the room he rounded on Ed. “Smooth, Ed . . . really smooth.”