They looked into each other’s eyes for several seconds before Red Feather looked away.
“Did Eli have a desk, or someplace he worked and filled out bills, wrote letters—things like that?”
Rose shook her head, “No desk. He had an ancient laptop computer that barely worked. He used the kitchen table for a desk when.”
“Where did he keep his checkbook, bills, passport, personal important documents?” he asked.
“Kitchen, top right drawer,” she said. “Why?”
“Have you gone through it?”
“Yes, thoroughly.”
“Any correspondence with Mission Mining?”
“No.”
“Anything odd at all? Anything look out of place?”
She shook her head.
“What about a scratch pad, an appointment book, a journal? Anyplace where he may have written down his email password?”
“Your welcome to look,” she said. “I went through everything yesterday when I got here—spent hours looking at it. Nothing.”
“Well, let’s see if we can hack into it,” he said. “I’m convinced there is something on the property they don’t want us to find. Maybe there is a clue in his email correspondence.
Rose and Red Feather logged onto Eli’s ancient Dell laptop and began trying all the conventional uses of passwords. They drank a full bottle of wine as they worked. They tried the word, ‘password,’ his birthdate, his name spelled backwards, his late-wife’s name and two dozen more attempts. Nothing worked.
Red Feather stood and stretched, “It’s getting late. I know you are exhausted. I have a couple of more things to pick up at the nursery tomorrow. I can come back.”
“You’re leaving?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “I have had a long day. I’m tired.”
“Perhaps you can . . . stay here,” she said. “I have a spare bedroom. I really don’t want to be alone tonight.”
She did have a point, Red Feather thought. Who knew what Lenkov was trying to hide or what extreme measures he was willing to take to prevent anyone from hiding it.
“Besides,” Rose continued. “I haven’t dried your clothes yet. They’re still sopping wet. It’s freezing outside.”
Rose felt more than a little conflicted in asking someone she barely knew to spend the night. However, Red Feather had worked for her grandfather for two years and she knew from his emails and phone calls that Eli adored the man. She also prided herself on being a good judge of character, and everything she sensed in the man told her he was trustworthy. And besides, if Lenkov had balls enough to send in his goon during the day, she thought, he’d be willing to send someone back at night when he thought she’d be alone.
Red Feather nodded, “Ok, but only if your certain about this. I don’t want to put you out.”
“Nonsense, you’d be doing me a favor. I’ll get some sheets and make the bed.”
“I have a military background, remember? If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s make a bed.”
She smiled and touched his arm lightly, “Thank you for staying. I’ll sleep much easier knowing you are here.”
“My pleasure,” he said.
Red Feather walked into the spare bedroom and turned on the light. A minute later Rose showed up with fresh sheets and sat them on the bed.
“Thank you again . . . for everything,” she said. She slid her arms under his and gave him a warm hug. Red Feather was taken off guard but immediately hugged her back. She felt warm and soft in his arms. The honeysuckle fragrance smelled stronger up close. Her hair felt soft on his cheek. Her magnificent breasts felt delightful against his chest.
“Goodnight,” she said, releasing her embrace. She smiled and left the room, touching the bedroom door knob. “Open or closed.”
“Open is fine,” he said.
Red Feather had not slept in a bed this comfortable in ages, he noted. He was unable to sleep, thinking of Rose, the issues she faced and of, course, how much he’d love to make love to her. She was incredibly gorgeous and sexy.
Down boy, he thought to himself. She was in trouble. Help her solve the problem. He thought about Lenkov and McCoy, wondering what they were so desperate to keep him from finding. If they could only hack into Old Eli’s email account, he might . . .
And then it hit him. The answer presented itself in a flash . . .
The password . . .
He slid out of bed and walked quietly into the kitchen, not bothering to turn the light on. He opened the old Dell computer and fired it up, using the web browser to type in Eli’s email address. When the computer prompted him for a password, he typed it in . . .
R-o-s-e-d-o-l-l.
______________________
CHAPTER TEN
______________________
Rose found it difficult to sleep. Thoughts were racing through her brain at lightning speed. The hottest guy she had ever met was one room away. She wondered if he was awake thinking about her. The visit with Lenkov had rattled her. There were so many arrangements to be made for her grandfather’s funeral, and his financial situation would take some time to sort out. There was the question of what to do with the property. And then there was her job. She needed to be back at work, she thought. There was a chance that she could speak to Harden and convince him that she was still the best person to handle his settlement. If she didn’t somehow salvage this situation, she would be a little old lady before she got the chance to lead another case.
She thought of her co-worker and boyfriend, Michael, and how quickly he sold her out to pad his billable hours in his mad rush to maintain his position as the top revenue generator for the firm, a sure-fire ticket to early partnership. She had done all the heavy lifting in the case. What was left was a walk in the park. It was going to be a huge payout for the firm and he would get all the glory from the sweat off her back. It said a lot about him, his lack of character, his lack of loyalty and his lack of concern for her feelings. She felt like her top priority was to get back.
The only way she could do that would be to sell the ranch to Mission Mining, pay off her grandfather’s debts, pocket the small amount left over and call it good. It was the easy thing, but was it the right thing? Most of that she could handle remotely, if she went in that direction. She hated the idea of selling, though. Old Eli loved the ranch and didn’t want it sold to the coal company. And then there was the impact on the reservation. The reason she wanted to become a defense attorney in the first place was to help people who couldn’t help themselves. If she sold out to the coal interest she would be indirectly responsible for polluting the water and air over the reservation.
And then there was Red. She’d only met him the day before, but there was something there. She felt it. She had never felt anything like it before—certainly not with Michael. Red felt it too, at least to some degree, she was sure of it.
She finally drifted off to sleep, wondering what it’d be like to make love to him, to have her naked body rubbing against his, to have those muscular arms squeezing her, his strong hands touching every inch of her body . . .
There was a knock on her bedroom door.
“Rose?” a familiar voice called out.
Rose had taken a while to fall asleep, but when she did, she crashed hard. The voice sounded as though it was coming from the end of a very long, dark tunnel.
“Rose?” the voice repeated. It was closer now.
“Rose? It’s Red.”
Red Feather! She bolted upright, somewhat dazed and disoriented.
“Red, is anything wrong?”
“I’m so sorry to wake you, but this is important,” he said. “I found something. You need to hear it.”
“Come in,” she said.
Red Feather opened the door. She saw that he had her grandfather’s laptop in his hand. She instinctively pulled up the covers using her armpits to hold up the blanket. All she had on was a sheer pair of low cut panties and a loose light cotton tank top that would leave
little to the imagination.
He sat on the edge of the bed, “I’m sorry. This couldn’t wait.”
“What is it?”
“I figured out Old Eli’s password and accessed his email,” Red Feather said. “There were more than a dozen emails to and from Lenkov and your grandfather. I’ve been reading through them all.”
“And?”
“The first few emails were friendly enough,” Red Feather said. “Eli allowed Lenkov and the coal company’s soil specialists to come out and inspect the property. Lenkov was very smitten with Eli’s beautiful garden and they exchanged a number of personal emails about the garden itself. It was all very buddy-buddy . . . at first. If you only read the first few emails, you’d think Eli was very prepared to sell to the coal company.”
“That doesn’t sound right,” Rose said.
“Bear with me,” Red Feather replied. “Those first few emails began about five months ago. At first Eli seemed oblivious to the fact that the coal company would have a serious environmental impact on his land or the reservation. Soon after the correspondence between Lenkov and Eli started, he began getting other emails from tribal elders on the res, who warned him about these concerns and pleaded him not to sell to Mission Mining.”
“What happened then?”
“Eli began listening to offers from the Cheyenne Nation to buy the ranch and expand the res,” Red Feather said. “If Eli sold to the Cheyenne Nation, the res would no longer have to worry about the coal company presence.”
“So, what was the problem?” Rose asked. “Seems like a good solution. Why didn’t he do it?”
“Because the Cheyenne Nation could only offer roughly half the amount for the property that Mission Mining was offering,” Red Feather said. “He could not have paid all his debt down with their offer. When Mission Mining found out the res was trying to buy the land, Lenkov sweetened the company offer. Your grandfather was faced with a tough decision. He could accept a fat offer from Mission Mining, pay his debt and live out his remaining years in comfort and luxury, or he could follow his heart, sell to the res, pay off some part of the debt and live like a pauper.”
“But grandfather wouldn’t sell to the mining company,” Rose said.
“Right. He intended to sell the land to the res and worry about the remainder of the debt another time,” Red Feather replied. “That’s when things got ugly. Lenkov’s emails took on a whole different tone and became angry, then threatening. Your grandfather’s replies took on an equally nasty tone. In the very last email he wrote to Lenkov, Eli told him he was selling the land to the Cheyenne Nation.”
“Now that sounds like grandfather,” she said.
Red Feather nodded, “Eli made an appointment with the tribal elders for two days ago.”
“He made the appointment before he died,” she gasped. “That meeting never occurred.”
Red Feather nodded again, “I believe he was going to tell the elders he intended to sell his land to the Cheyenne Nation and Lenkov stopped him.”
“You mean . . .”
“I mean, I believe . . . it’s possible . . . that your grandfather didn’t die of a heart attack. It is possible Eli was murdered to prevent him from selling the land to the reservation.”
Rose gasped, putting her hand up to cover her mouth. She felt her heart racing, “But you saw him on the floor. There was no sign of foul play. He had a heart condition. The EMT’s said it was a simple heart attack.”
“I know,” Red Feather said. “I’m the one who found him. I was convinced it was a heart attack, too. But now I’m convinced otherwise.”
Rose gasped again and began to hyperventilate. There was bottled water on her night stand. Red Feather grabbed it for her. She took several small sips, seeming to calm down a bit.
“Remember how I told you I was convinced Lenkov wanted me gone because he believed I would find something?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Well, I was wrong. Lenkov wanted me gone not because he thought I’d find something, but because he thought I might notice something missing.”
“I’m sorry, you’ve lost me,” Rose said.
“It was really bugging me,” Red Feather said. “I was lying in bed, wondering why the hell Lenkov would be so concerned about a simple gardener being on the property. Then, when I read the emails and saw how interested he was in Eli’s garden, it hit me.”
“Don’t keep me waiting,” she said.
“Have you ever heard of aconite?” Red Feather asked.
“No.”
“It’s a plant, more commonly called Wolfsbane or Monkshood.”
“I’ve heard the name, yes,” she replied.
“It’s a very beautiful blue plant, yes, but also very toxic,” Red Feather explained. “It’s also very rare to be found in a garden. It has to be handled extremely carefully and kept away from children, pets and livestock.”
“My grandfather had none of that on the property,” she said.
“Which is why I agreed to plant it for him,” he replied. “Old Eli always wanted Monkshood in his garden. We argued about it. I really didn’t want to handle it. He convinced me to do it.”
“I’m still not following you,” Rose said. “You think grandfather was poisoned.”
“I think it’s highly possible,” Red Feather replied. “I think Lenkov, who was a gardening enthusiast in his own right, noticed the Monkshood in Eli’s garden during one of his visits. When Eli changed his mind about selling to the coal company and told Eli he was selling to the Cheyenne Nation, I think he sent someone in to pull the Monkshood, and somehow got Eli to ingest it. If that happened, it would have killed Eli.”
He held up a flashlight, “Right before I came to your room, I went out into the garden. The Monkshood is gone—all of it.”
“Holy shit!” Rose exclaimed. “If that were the case, though, wouldn’t there be signs of toxic poisoning?”
"No. The outward appearance of death from aconitum poisoning looks like a heart attack, but the actual cause of death is usually asphyxiation," Red Feather said. “The aconitum paralyses the heart and respiratory center and the victim can no longer breathe. A coroner would be able to tell if that were the case through an autopsy . . . but only if he knew what to look for.”
“Jesus, Red, how do you know all this?” Rose asked.
“Google,” he replied.
“But no autopsy is scheduled to be performed,” Rose continued.
“We need to change that . . . tomorrow. If an autopsy reveals that Eli died of asphyxiation, we will know I am right and Eli was murdered.”
“Here’s what I don’t understand,” Rose said. “If Lenkov wanted to murder my grandfather with Monkshood, how would he know they would not perform an autopsy?”
“Your grandfather was eighty-one with a well-documented history heart problems,” Red Feather said. “A company like Mission Mining would have investigators who could very easily dig this information up. It is well known in Rosebud County that the corner’s time is very limited. No autopsy would be performed unless something looked suspicious. An eighty-one-year-old man, living alone with heart problems dying of an apparent heart attack, would not attract attention. Hell, you and I probably knew him better than anyone and we didn’t suspect anything.”
“Until now,” Rose said. She saw Red Feather nodding and then turning his attention to the window. He then cast his eyes upward taking in a breath.
“Do you smell smoke?” he asked.
______________________
CHAPTER ELEVEN
______________________
Red Feather bolted out of the front door, still wearing Eli’s loose shorts and shirt. He felt the bite of the cold, but his adrenaline was surging, so he paid little heed to it.
He saw Eli’s barn ablaze. He ran toward it. To his left he saw the red, glowing taillights of three vehicles as they sped away—too far and too dark to make out the color or type of vehicles, much less the license plate numbers. He a
lso saw his own truck going up in flames.
He stopped running, understanding the vehicles were too far away for him to catch on foot. He glanced at the barn. He saw flames illuminating the inside of the barn from one ground-floor window. His truck was pretty much engulfed.
“Oh my god, the barn is on fire,” Rose screamed, seeing the flames from the porch.
“Call 9-1-1,” he cried out.
Rose disappeared inside as Red Feather made his way to the barn. He heard the truck explode in the background, undoubtedly caused by the flames heating the gas tank, which had been filled just the day before.
Red Feather spent the next thirty-five minutes tamping out the flames inside the barn with old blankets. Rose had thrown on a robe and joined him spending most of her time hosing the blankets down with the water hose and running them into Red Feather.
By the time the Fire Department actually arrived, one hour and twenty minutes after the call, the fire in the barn had been extinguished. The truck fire was smoldering still, but Red Feather and long since given up on salvaging it. Red Feather and Rose were sitting on the front porch, wrapped together in a warm blanket, waiting for them.
His arm was wrapped around Rose. Once the fire had been taken care of, she began to cry.
The firefighters inspected Red Feather’s car and the barn and tested the integrity of the loft and other spots in the barn. Fire Chief William Four Bears approached them after they’d been there about an hour. He removed his hat and introduced himself to Rose and gave Red Feather a nod of recognition.
“The fire in the barn is contained, Ms. Summer,” Four Bears said. “There was very little structural damage.”
“Thank you for coming,” she said. “You two know each other?”
“Four Bears and I grew up with each other,” Red Feather said.
“That was good work in there, Red,” Four Bears said. “I’m sorry to say your truck is a goner, though.”
Special Forces_Operation Alpha_Summer Breeze Page 5
