Lab Notes: a novel (16 page)

μ CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT μ

It was a beautiful day for a road trip. Diane felt her tensions lifting as she drove down Texas Route 35 past coastal bays and sleepy hamlets. Between towns, rows of corn and millet fanned by, reaching toward a vanishing point on the distant horizon. She had never been on a ranch before and was looking forward to the visit.

On the telephone, Leonard Everly had sounded like a kindly gentleman, insisting that she call him by his first name. She had told him she found his Ridgeback website and she gave him her maiden name. Many professionals went by their maiden names, so she felt it wouldn’t be a problem if she decided to level with him about her identity. But that wasn’t going to happen unless he gave off extremely positive vibes. Maybe she should have brought Maxine’s psychic along.

For Maxine’s part in the intrigue, she had remained true to her crossed pinky pledge and invited Doreen from bookkeeping to lunch where she inquired about Doreen’s Ridgeback, then shamelessly picked her brains regarding Leonard Everly.

Doreen reported that, other than a tantrum she once witnessed (from outside Bellfort’s office door), Dr. Everly was a very nice man who was a dog breeder, a gentleman rancher and a semi-retired scientist. For his consulting services, BRI paid him a monthly stipend of ten thousand dollars. And yes, Doreen thought he might sometimes do some marketing for BRI. Why did Doreen think that? Because she had reimbursed him for airfare. To where? Moscow, Taipei, Seville, and frequent trips to Düsseldorf came to mind.

Diane didn’t know what more she expected to discover from Everly. But she felt it was worth a leisurely drive down the coast to try and ferret out any connection between
Peruvase
, Leonard Everly’s name in Vincent’s notes, and Everly’s continued involvement with BRI.

Everly had been to Taipei. Could Bellfort have been telling the truth about
Peruvase
being sold to a company in Taiwan? Maybe Tung Chen’s spies overlooked it.

If Everly was indeed the catalyst for any of BRI’s intellectual property sales, his 10K per month income was laughable. Despite the fact that
Peruvase
was sold prematurely, she and Vincent had become what she considered wealthy, even after the university and BRI took their percentages. It seemed Raymond Bellfort was exploiting poor Leonard.

Following Everly’s directions, Diane drove through the town of Blessing, little more than a church and a convenience store with a gas station. She had seen people live with a lot less, but in the jungle villages they didn’t have to shop for boots or tractor tires and they never had the urge for pralines n’ cream or a Big Mac.

Diane followed the railroad tracks on her right for several miles until she came to the crossing marked with day-glo orange antlers—the rancher’s answer to pink lawn flamingos, she guessed. There were no warning lights at the crossing; she stopped, looked and listened. The tracks were clear to eternity in both directions.

She bumped across them onto a gravel road on the other side. Ahead stood thick wooden crosspieces branded with the name “Dr. Leo’s Serengeti Ranch.” She was in the right place.

The Suburban no sooner thrummed across the metal cattle guard when Diane spotted the “possible obstacles” Dr. Everly had mentioned.

A herd of black cattle had gathered for a tête-à-tête on the road ahead. “Don’t drive off-road to get around them,” Everly had warned. “There are rocks and ditches that’ll mess up your tires and your shocks. Just slow to a crawl. They’ll move out of your way,” he assured her.

Grateful for bringing Vincent’s SUV, Diane slowly approached the herd. And sure enough, the black sea parted as the animals ambled to both sides of the road to let her pass. They had been through this drill before.

She inched along while curious black noses smudged the powdering of dust along the SUV’s sides. Looking down into the pool of large brown eyes, she felt the sudden urge to become a vegetarian.

Once past the herd, Diane stepped down on the accelerator. Stones pelted the SUV’s chassis as she headed for the buildings on the horizon. The road plowed through wide-open land scattered with scrub grass and mesquite bushes and lots of oil pumps. In ten minutes she approached a white-pillared mansion that presided over an oasis of green grass and enormous shade trees. The Ponderosa it was not.

Diane left the Suburban parked beside a golf cart and walked around the circular drive toward the house. She took a gulp of still, hot air. She was committed.

A tall, slender man wearing sharply creased jeans, light denim shirt and a white cowboy hat stepped sideways down the front porch stairs. Diane felt like a greenhorn in her flowered blouse, black slacks and espadrilles.

They met halfway up the drive. “Hello. You must be Diane McKee. I’m Leonard Everly.”

She knew he was in his mid sixties, but he wore his years lightly. He had the dignified manner befitting a scientist turned gentleman rancher.

Leonard’s smile seemed genuine enough. It extended all the way up to the tan creases beside his reflective sunglasses. But Diane hated it when she couldn’t see a person’s eyes. Maybe that was the cause of her urge to draw back when he offered his bear paw of a hand.

As if on cue, a chorus of barks and yips arose from somewhere beyond the house. Everly inclined his head toward the commotion. “They’re looking forward to meeting you.” He pointed to the golf cart. “Ride or walk?” Diane chose to walk; she had been driving for almost three hours. Besides it gave her more time with Leonard.

As they strolled around the side of the house and out toward the pens, Everly told her about the Ridgeback breed. He explained that they were not barkers by nature, but they were quite intuitive. They knew she might be taking one of them home with her.

They arrived at the pens and watched the wiggling tan bodies with their bristly backs, enormous feet and worried brows, and Diane fell in love. But poor Huck was having a hard enough time getting her attention at home without added competition. There was no room for a puppy in her disaster of a life.

Fortunately, as of that morning, all the males were spoken for, giving Diane an easy out. Leonard pointed to a pregnant female nicknamed Phoenix in the next pen. Diane said she’d wait for a male from her litter.

After playing with the puppies for as long as she could bear without taking the whole litter home, Diane accepted Everly’s offer of iced tea.

During the entire seven-minute walk to the front porch, he delivered a proud accounting of his Ridgebacks’ ribbons. Diane became certain the trip was going to be a dry haul.

Leonard went inside and Diane settled onto the porch swing to one side of the stairs. She slowly took in the surroundings. Except for the occasional distant cattle lowing or a horsefly buzzing by, there wasn’t a sound. And other than the distant jack pumps, nothing moved out there. It was a bit creepy.

Where was everyone? Housekeeper? Wife? Cow punchers? She suddenly felt vulnerable.

Leonard Everly seemed perfectly charming. But she had always trusted her instincts, and right then they were screaming:
Get up and leave, Diane. You don’t know this man. You don’t owe him any courtesy that goes against your better judgment.

Just then Everly arrived with a smile and two frosty mugs. He was accompanied by a streamlined male Ridgeback whose chest came up to Diane’s knees.

Leonard placed the tea and a napkin on a small table beside Diane while the dog sniffed her shoes and slacks.

“He’s magnificent. What’s his name?”

“He has a fancy registered name. But I call him Hunter. He’s the father of Phoenix’s litter.”

Hunter permitted Diane to scratch the ridge down his back while he leaned into her legs. Her paranoia dissolved. Puppies and tea. Nothing sinister here.

Everly settled into a chair to her right, crossed his well-used boots out in front of her and looked admiringly at his dog. “Ridgebacks shed very infrequently. But Hunter’s going through a little shedding stage. Some hairs might show up on those slacks of yours.” Knowing he was the topic of conversation, Hunter abandoned Diane to step over and lean against his master’s legs.

“It’s so peaceful here,” Diane said. “How lucky you are to live in such a paradise.”

“I’m comfortable here. But I’ve noticed the solitude wears thin for city folk like yourself.”

“I can’t imagine a person ever getting tired of it. Has this property been in your family for generations?”

“Yes, you might say that.”

“It must have been wonderful for a boy growing up here.”

“I think I’ve given you the wrong impression. I never saw the inside of the big house,” he gestured toward the double-door entry, “until ten years ago, just before I bought the ranch.

“My grandfather and my father were horse trainers here all their lives. So mine was not a childhood full of ridin’ horses and ropin’ calves and shootin’ dove for fun. I got to clean out the deer blinds and oil the guns and serve the barbeque during huntin’ season. And often I traveled with my dad when he took the horses to compete at rodeos.

“Dad always had a wad of chew in his mouth, manure on his boots and ring dust everywhere else. So, he wasn’t permitted inside the owner’s travel trailer. We camped out with the Mexican immigrants who tended the horses.

“My granddad and my dad trained champions, and they were proud of their accomplishments. But growing up watching them choke on the dust of a thousand rodeos, I vowed again and again that I would not follow in their bootsteps.”

Everly looked out across his ranch toward the far horizon. His jaw tightened and he said, “I was born
on
the land but not
to
the land. Nevertheless, it’s always been in my blood. My desire to own this ranch has driven me to great successes in some areas of my life and to dismal failures in others…”

Moments passed, then he snapped his head toward Diane as if discovering, for the first time, that she was sitting there on the porch with him.

“Sorry, I get long-winded at times. I don’t get a lot of visitors out here.”

“It’s a fascinating story. Thank you for sharing it.”

Everly leaned forward and studied her for several seconds. Suddenly ill at ease, not knowing exactly where Everly was looking, she drummed her fingers in her lap and strained to think of how to direct the conversation to the real reason for her visit.

“You know, you’re real easy to talk to,” he said in a slow drawl.

Diane acknowledged his compliment with a forced smile.

Everly settled back in his chair and scratched behind Hunter’s ear. “There’s something you should know. The Ridgeback breed ain’t happy if they’re left at home alone. You a career lady?”

Was it her imagination? Or had his speech slowed and acquired a cowboy drawl? But accent or not, he had given her a perfect opening; it was time to come clean. She moved her lips, but nothing came out.

Blocked by an inner struggle, she tried reasoning with herself: He liked to talk about his dogs and his ranch; if she opened up a dialogue, maybe he’d tell the story about the
Peruvase
sale. She could act grateful for the sizable bonus she and Vincent had received. Then he might drop the name of a pharmaceutical company.

Doreen was right; he was a nice guy. Go ahead. Tell him what you do for a living and where. Bellfort might be upset if he found out she’d talked with Dr. Everly. But she had the perfect cover. She and Huck were lonely. They wanted a puppy.

Too much time had passed. The lines had crinkled at the corners of Leonard Everly’s eyes, but his lips weren’t smiling. His glance burned through his reflective lenses. He was scrutinizing her, hard.

Diane feigned a cough, then said, “I work with plants.” If only she could see his eyes. She dabbed her mouth with the paper napkin. “I own a plant nursery. I can take a puppy to work with me. He’ll get a lot of attention.” Coward.

Everly nodded; he seemed satisfied. He gestured toward her wedding ring. “What does your husband do?”

Diane wasn’t sure, but she thought she flinched. “He’s a salesman, a boat salesman.” Her answer surprised her.

“Good career. Keeps you near the water. I’ve always been torn between fishin’ and huntin.’ Down here I have the best of both worlds. I hunt on the ranch and fish down at the bay or out in the Gulf.”

Diane spotted a dust cloud on the horizon and saw an opportunity to change the subject. “Is that one of those dust devils they talk about?”

“No. That’s my ranch manager returning.”

“How can you tell?”

“Well, I’m expectin’ him to bring back my truck with some new tires on it. And anyone I can see drivin’ on any horizon, north, south, east or west, is on my land.”

Diane pondered the enormity of the ranch while they both watched a four-door, gray pick-up truck approach in a brown cloud and pull around the driveway to the foot of the stairs. Like a lot of trucks she had seen on the road, the pick-up sported a shotgun on a rack across the back window.

Everly stood and walked over to the stairs to greet his employee. A cowboy off a movie set stepped from the truck and tossed a set of keys toward the porch.

Later, Diane would recall how the universe went into slow motion.

The ball of keys arced high over the truck, then changed shape and descended, all askew, toward the waiting hand of Leonard Everly. They landed with a ka-ching at Diane’s eye level, everything neatly contained in Leonard Everly’s enormous palm. That is, everything except the large key ring pendant.