by Ciana Stone
That shocked Cici. Edward was typically a conservative investor. "A Russian oligarch? Are you sure you're comfortable with forming that kind of relationship considering the current political climate?"
"I am. He's a very astute businessman, and he believes passionately in this venture."
"Fine, then send me the contract and I'll look over it on Monday and get back to you."
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it, it's my job. Is there anything else?"
"No, that's it. Thanks for taking the time for me."
"I always have time for you, Edward. You're my friend as well as my client."
"Thank you. You will keep me posted?"
"I will."
"Then I'll bid you a good day." Edward stood and turned to leave. Cici walked him to the door, said goodbye then hurried to the bedroom to finish packing an overnight bag in case they decided against coming back tonight.
Just as she was finishing, she heard Kal call her name and walked over to the bedroom door. "Almost ready."
"The car's downstairs and the jet is fueled and ready."
"And so am I."
He stopped her as she started to turn away. "In case, I haven't made it plain, I want you to know how much I appreciate the way you believe in me."
"I love you, and I know you're innocent. It's as easy as that." Amazingly, it was, and for the first time in her life, Cici was certain about how she felt and the strength of her faith in Kal. Now, all they had to do was get beyond this false accusation and then they could truly start their life together.
*****
Russell waited for Naomie to get into the helicopter, then followed. "Take us to the county airport, Jim. We're picking up someone."
"Yes, sir," the pilot, Jim Simmons replied.
Once they were airborne, Russell opened the conversation. "You've been pretty quiet. What's going through that brain of yours?"
"Just thinking."
"Can you think out loud?"
"You might regret asking that, but yes."
"Then tell me."
"Okay, I was considering the impact of what we saw. I've collected enough samples to test and determine what was released, but there's more to consider than your feedlot."
"Such as?"
Naomie angled in her seat to face him. "Do you know what pesticide drift is?"
"Yes. At least I think, but you explain it anyway."
"Okay, it's pretty much what it sounds. Drifting spray and dust from pesticide applications. It can be an insidious threat to human health, along with wildlife and ecosystems in and around areas where harsh chemicals are used to ward off pests. The biggest risk is to people who live, work or attend school near places that employ elevated spraying equipment or crop dusting. Children are especially vulnerable."
"And if what was sprayed is particularly toxic?"
"Then you could be looking at potential litigation if anyone is affected by drift and becomes ill."
"Son of a bitch. So, what do we do?"
"First, we figure out what kind of chemical we're dealing with, then we wait. At least to see if there will be complaints."
"And what about the cattle?"
"I was considering that. You obviously can't sell them as organic, but you can sell them and make some profit."
"I don't want the Heritage name on beef that isn't certified organic."
"Then sell them to someone who doesn't have any qualms about that. You or someone you know is bound to know buyers."
"You're right."
"Okay, then we have at least the start of a plan."
"And still no idea why any of this is happening."
It wasn't difficult to see how frustrated he was. Russell was a man accustomed to accessing a problem and then diving into doing whatever it took to correct things. The situations he'd faced lately were things being done to him and there was little he could do to stop or correct it and that made things twice as frustrating."I know it's hard, but please try to be patient. I promise you we'll figure it out."
"Do you ever regret signing on with me?"
"No, what makes you ask such a thing?"
"Because ever since you've been here, it's been one thing after another."
That statement hit her far harder than he could imagine and Naomie was mentally thrown for a loop. He was right, which meant she needed to ask the question. Was she the cause of all the bad luck Russell and his family had suffered of late?
She couldn't imagine how she could be, but the scientist in her couldn't dismiss the possibility since circumstances indicated a potential connection between her and the trouble. Naomie filed that away. She'd ponder it in detail when she was alone and try to figure out if there was any way she could be the catalyst.
It was a long shot, and she didn't believe she'd find anything, but she'd leave no stone unturned to try and solve the mystery.
"Why so quiet?" he asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.
"I was thinking about all the things that've happened, and I wonder if I could be the cause? Do I have an unseen enemy who'd take their ire out on you and Kal to try and exact some kind of vengeance on me?"
"Well, that'd make no sense at all."
"No, it wouldn't, but people don't often think logically, and I guess I'm kicking all the rocks I see, to discover if something is beneath one."
"We'll figure it out, Naomie." He took her hand. "Together. Right now, are you excited to see your friend, Dr. Lawson?"
That prompted a little niggle of concern, and one she decided to address before it could become more than a niggle. "About Harley," she said. "Remember when I told you I was involved with two women?"
"Yes. Reese and–" his eyes widened a bit. "–and Dr. Lawson?"
She nodded.
"I'm guessing you parted as friends."
"We did."
"And do you have any desire to rekindle your romance?"
"No. What we had was nice while we had it, but we both knew we were more interested in men."
"Then why have a sexual relationship?"
"It wasn't all about the sex. It was more about companionship. We've always been good friends, and we get along. The sex was just–well, everyone needs a little release now and then and neither of us were shy or hesitant so…"
"You're such an unusual woman."
"Am I?"
"You are. I've never known anyone as honest with themselves or others, or as comfortable in their own skin."
She laughed and for the first time since she'd known him, looked away. It didn't go unnoticed. He tugged on her hand. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No, I just don't think you see me quite as I am. I have my demons, just like everyone else and sometimes they make me very uncomfortable in my own skin."
"Can I help you conquer them?"
Oh, dear God, don't I wish? "I don't know."
"Can I try?"
She smiled at him. "When you're ready, by all means."
"I'm guessing this takes us into Marshall Dillon and Miss Kitty territory?"
"You're pretty smart for a rancher slash hero, Mr. Walker."
"I wonder if we'll actually see a time when I fill the boots of a hero."
"I think you already have. Remember the save Reese caper?"
He laughed. "How could I forget? Do me a favor and don't plan any more of those."
"I'll try." Her phone rang as she added. "But no promises". She then answered. "Harley, hi, I'm guessing you're on the ground? Yes, we're picking you up. Hold on." She directed her attention back to Russell. "You want to tell her where to meet us and how to get there?"
"Sure."
"Okay. Harley? I'm going to put Mr. Walker on the phone, and he'll tell you where to meet us. Here you go."
She sat back and listened as Russell introduced himself and instructed Harley on how and where to go and who to speak with. When he finished, he said goodbye and handed Naomie the phone. "I hope like hell this friend of yours can come up with something to hel
p Kal."
"Don't worry. If anyone can do it, it's Harley."
Ten minutes later they were setting down. Naomie saw Harley sitting in what looked like a golf cart with a man in a security uniform. When the helicopter landed, Russell opened the door to let Naomie out. She ran toward the cart, and Harley ran to meet her.
"Oh my god, it's good to see you!" Harley gave Naomie a kiss and then hugged her tight.
"You have no idea. And damn, you look fantastic. I guess rodeoing is treating you well."
"Girl, I love it. I only do forensic work in the offseason."
"Sounds like you're hooked."
"You know it."
"Let's grab your bags."
They hurried to gather up Harley's stuff and then made their way to the helicopter. Russell got out as they approached. "Dr. Lawson? I'm Russell Walker."
"It's a pleasure, sir, and please call me Harley."
"Fine, then let me take your bags, Harley. You ladies climb on in."
They did, and he stowed Harleys luggage, then got in. "Okay, Jim. Take us home," Russell said once he was seated across from Naomie and Harley. "I have to say that my grandson would sure love to meet you, Harley."
"Oh? Why's that?"
"He loves the rodeo."
"He's actually a hell of a roper and bronc rider," Naomie added. "In fact, he just qualified for the nationals of the Little Britches Rodeo."
"Seriously? I'm judging the nationals of the LBR. I'd love to meet him. What's his name?"
"Rusty and he'd be thrilled," Russell said.
"Then you'll have to make it happen. And since the medical examiner wouldn't agree to meet with me until Monday, we have some time."
"Did they send you anything?" Naomie asked.
"Yes, they emailed everything, but I want to see it all in person. Every measurement, note, slide, sample, everything that was gathered, measured, cataloged or crated."
"I hear ya, girl," Naomie agreed. "Anything I can do to help?"
"I was hoping you'd volunteer. I'm going to ask for a court order to examine the murder weapon, test it and get prints from the accused."
"Why?" Russell asked.
"Because Naomie said the gun was lying on the wrong side. That the accused, Mr. Burton wouldn't have held it in his right hand, because he's left-handed. So, if someone wrapped Mr. Burton's hand around the gun to establish prints, it could be that the angle of the prints is off from what an authentic grip would be. That, combined with the fact that he's left-handed, goes to establish that he was set up."
"I think I already like you, Harley."
She smiled. "Honey, you ain't seen nothing yet."
"Whoa, slow the wagon there cowgirl," Naomie put her hand on Harley's arm, and Harley looked at her.
"What? Oh, I get it. He's off limits?"
Naomie looked directly at Russell. "Are you?"
"I am." Russell smiled at her.
Harley shrugged and smiled. "Well, I guess I'll have to find a good old Honky Tonk somewhere around your parts and see if I can't scare up some cowboy who'd like to do a little boot-scootin'."
Naomie looked at Harley then at Russell. "How about we go to the Honky Tonk tomorrow night?"
"Hey, you mean you're gonna share this big fella?" Harley asked.
"Hell no. But I will introduce you to someone who will make your ovaries want to stand up and shout hallelujah."
"Bring it," Harley burst out laughing. "Damn, I've missed you."
"Same here."
Harley looked at Russell. "Please don't think I'm not taking this seriously. I do, and I'm going to give you an honest assessment of the evidence and hope like hell it helps your daughter's fiancé. But until I can get into the medical examiner's lab, there's not a lot I can do, and it's been a while since I had a weekend to kick back and enjoy myself, so please accept my apology if I seemed less than serious."
"I appreciate you taking this on and have faith in your ability."
"How could you? You've never met me before?"
"Because I have faith in Naomie and she believes in you, and that's good enough for me."
Harley looked at Naomie. "Couldn't you share him just a little?"
"In your dreams."
"Well fine, then bring on the mystery man, but fair warning, he better be as good as promised."
"Scout's honor." Naomie held up her hand.
Harley snorted and rolled her eyes. "She knows that's the Vulcan salute, you know," Harley said to Russell.
"I'm aware."
Naomie smiled and realized the knot in her shoulders had dissipated a bit. Until then she hadn’t realized just how tense she been. She was glad she'd asked Harley to come. Harley helped bring her back to the ground and reminded her that serious didn't have to mean morose. She could still love life and be damned determined to see Kal set free.
And she believed with Harley's help, that's just what would happen.
Chapter Eight
Russell parked in the driveway of Naomie's cottage. She opened the door, talking as she got out. "Just give me a call when everyone arrives and we'll walk over."
"Okay, will do."
"And I'll help with the cooking when the time comes."
"You don't have to do that," he argued.
"More hands make the task easier."
"Whatever you say. Talk to you, soon."
Naomie and Harley took Harley's things into the cottage. After putting everything into the guest room, they returned to the kitchen. "Want something to eat or drink?" Naomie offered.
"I wouldn't turn down a sandwich and a beer."
"I can make that happen."
"Hell, no, just point me to where everything is."
"Fine, the bread is in the pantry along with chips, and I'll get the stuff from the fridge. Plates are in the cupboard on the second shelf between the sink and the stove."
"Got it. Want me to fix you one?" Harley asked.
"Sure."
"On it. So, tell me about this place and Russell Walker."
"Well, let's see. Heritage is the largest single-family owned ranch in–"
"I know all that. I still do my homework."
"Okay," Naomie piled tomatoes, lettuce, cheese, onions, fresh peppers and a baked chicken on the countertop, then leaned against it and looked at Harley. "What do you want to know?"
"You and Russell Walker."
"It's complicated."
"How complicated?"
Naomie considered it for a few moments. She and Harley were lovers for a short time, friends for much longer and she had no reason to mistrust Harley, but talking about Russell was difficult because Harley knew Naomie's past and she feared the conclusions Harley might reach.
"I'm sensing you don't want me to know."
"It's not that. Well, not exactly. Damn." Naomie started washing the vegetables, even though they'd all been washed. "I met Russell when Reese Quinn asked me here to help her build a prototype of a synthetic bee. As in honey bee."
She dried the vegetables then started slicing everything as she continued. "She ended up going into business with an NCIS dude, Wiley Johns who lives in Cotton Creek. Wiley's also an ex-SEAL and his brother Deacon, is the commander at the Clear Creek Training Center outside of Cotton Creek, which isn't far from here.
"Anyway, they ended up going into partnership with Russell to develop large scale apiaries all over the country. Also, they're going to produce the prototype and mass market. It's called SynthBee, and if the attempts to rebuild the pollinators fails, they'll try with the synthetics."
"So, that's how you met him. How did you end up here?"
"He found out about the breeding program I developed for thoroughbreds for my family in Kentucky and wanted me to do the same for Quarter Horses. There's big money in it, and I was interested."
"Seriously?"
"Yes, why do you sound so surprised?"
"Well, let's just say I think you might be exaggerating – no, no, I get it. You were interested in him, and th
e breeding program was just a way to be close to him."
"Wow, you really think I'd stoop to that?"
"Honey, for a man that puts out the kind of vibes he does, I think I'd stoop to that."
That comment was what broke the ice and relaxed Naomie. "Okay, guilty as charged."
"So? You're here and what now?"
"Now I've painted myself into a corner. I'm determined to succeed with the breeding program, but I've gotten so invested in this family it's like they're my own, Harley. Robert, that's Russell's dad and the man who was killed. God, I loved that man. He was like a second father to me, and his wife is like another mother.
"I love all Russell's family and their passion for the land and–and, I'm crazy about him, and I don't know if there's a chance we'll ever be more than what we are right now."
"Which is?"
"Wanting."
"You mean you haven't…?"
"Just a couple of kisses in weak moments. And he's slept here a few times. Fully dressed."
"So what's holding you two from moving forward?"
"He thinks he's too old for me."
"Sweet baby Jesus, are you serious?"
"I am."
"Well, damn. I totally disagree, but I don't suppose that matters. What I want to know is what are you going to do about it?"
"Wait? Hope?"
"And just how long, Naomie?"
"I don't know. Right now, I just want to see this case against Kal dropped."
"You really believe in his innocence?"
"I do. I wouldn't have called and begged you to come here otherwise."
"Then I hope the evidence is in his favor. Pass me that stuff and grab me a beer."
As Naomie got the beer, Harley compiled two sandwiches and carried the plates to the table. They sat, and Naomie reached across the table for Harley's hand. "I want you to know that I won't forget this, and I owe you."
"You don't owe me anything. You're one of the best friends I have in this world, and I'd do anything for you."
"And the feeling is mutual, but still, thank you. And if there's anything I can do to repay–"
"I thought you were going to hook me up with some next level hot hunk?"
Naomie grinned and released Harley's hand. "Oh, girl, you might think you know hot, but you'll take one look at this guy and realize you just thought you knew."
