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Authors: Sara M. Barton

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My father, on the other hand, was clearly
smitten by Lara. They seemed to have much in common, bantering back
and forth about their favorite botanical gardens around the world.
As a professor, Lara taught a variety of courses, including organic
pest management, and that earned her my father’s admiration. She
also was involved in research.


We came to Hawaii because
there was a recent outbreak of coffee rust that did significant
damage to the entire crop on the island. The local farmers asked
Lara for help in controlling the rust. She knew I had an interest
in the matter, so she invited me along as a consultant. I must say
I am delighted to be here.”


Your father wrote an
amazing paper on fungus control in an issue of
Non-Toxic Farming Practices
about
eighteen months ago, Chrisanth. I think the reason that he has made
such strides in his research is because he’s taken what he knows
about hybridization and applied it to the genetics of the plants,
to bring out the best in them.”


It’s merely Darwinian
theory in motion,” my father beamed, delighted that his companion
thought him worthy of praise, “survival of the fittest. You start
with the best plants if you want the best fungus
control.”


True. It’s that and your
biodegradable spray.” Lara turned in my direction. “Your father
took the potential solution found by an organic coffee grower in
Jamaica and figured out a way to take it several steps further with
ordinary, non-toxic, biodegradable materials.”


She used garlic and
organic coconut oil to spray the infected trees. I wasn’t
completely convinced that the garlic had a real function in the
process, as she claimed, although I thought she might be on the
right track with coconut oil.”

I enjoyed watching the pair take turns as
they talked about coffee production. My parents had shared many a
discussion on plant genetics over the years and I knew that since
my mother’s death, my father missed having a partner to bounce
ideas off of when he was in the middle of his research projects.
Maybe Lara was the answer to what ailed him as a widower. She
certainly seemed like a good match, with her depth of botanical
knowledge and inquisitive mind. That was clear as she continued to
expand on the issues involved in Kauai.

 

Chapter Fifty

 

“The Kona variety of coffee bean is world
renown for its depth of flavor, but here on the island, the crop
has been devastated by coffee rust. One of the coffee farms we’re
here to assess grows a couple of other varieties of beans not
normally found in Hawaii and they have significantly less rust
damage to their plants,” Lara told us. “The farmers deliberately
diversified and planted Jamaican Blue Mountain and Guadeloupe
Bonifieur beans, strains of the Bourbon Pointu variety that
originated in Java.”

“Bourbon Pointu beans,” my father explained,
“are legendary for their rich, smooth flavor and in some places,
they sell for hundreds of dollars a pound, because the plants are
less prolific than other, more common, varieties and require a bit
more care. They seem to thrive in volcanic soil and at certain
altitudes. It begs the question of the role of plant genetics. Have
the Kona plants over-adapted to their environment here and somehow
become more vulnerable to the disease? Have the other varieties of
beans introduced on the island thrived because they were able to
adapt successfully to a new environment? If so, how can we take
these lessons and put them to work to bolster plant immunity to the
fungus without causing harm to the environment?”

My father had long been a passionate coffee
drinker, so taking on Kauai’s coffee rust as a botanist seemed
right up his alley. I could see he was already enthralled with the
prospect. So was Lara. Her face was radiant as she described her
goals for this project.

“We’re hoping to find ways to minimize the
crop damage from the fungus that has spread across the islands by
implementing better agricultural management techniques. The problem
here is that over the last several decades, the heavy use of
fertilizer and pesticide has polluted the local water supply. Many
of the coffee farmers rely on the quality of the water for organic
certification, so they’ve developed water filtration processes to
distribute it throughout the fields. Are they unwittingly spreading
the fungus when they irrigate their plants, or otherwise
inadvertently contributing to the problem?”

“You two certainly have your work cut out for
you,” I commented, thinking that my father and Lara might actually
be staying in Hawaii for a while, “because that type of research
sounds rather complicated. There are so many factors to
consider.”

“Oh, it is. My company is hoping that we can
develop an environmentally safe product that can be used on organic
and non-organic beans alike. If we can improve coffee production
without creating environmental damage to an already challenged
landscape, maybe a lot of the Hawaiian farmers won’t sell off their
land for development. As it is now,” my father acknowledged, his
face concerned, “Kauai is quickly losing its agricultural land to
condos, golf courses, and shopping malls. And if this trend
continues....”

“...it will change the economics of the
islands.” P. J. responded, jumping in. I could see the wheels begin
to turn for Jeff’s father as he thought about the implications.
“Importing food to Hawaii is so costly, and that will only drive up
the prices of everything for locals and tourists.”

“Exactly,” my father nodded.

“And with the islands so dependent on
sustainable farming, this project offers great promise not just for
Hawaii, but for other countries where there are significant
agricultural challenges. If you can solve the coffee rust issue
here....”

“...the techniques can be used elsewhere
around the globe,” Lara added.

“Would anyone care for dessert and some of
our world-famous Kona coffee?” asked our waiter, Pico, leaning in
to clear our plates from the table a few minutes later. It was
obvious he hadn’t eavesdropped during our discussion. “It’s grown
here on the island.”

“Indeed it is,” my father laughed heartily.
“I’d love a cup.”

We all accepted Pico’s recommendation of
banana cream pie to accompany the coffee. We continued the
conversation as we waited.

“Are you on Kauai for long?” That question
came from Jeff as he looked from my father to Lara.

“At least another ten weeks. After that, it’s
back to the lab in California for me. I’m hoping to convince Lara
to join me there, but she seems to have other ideas.”

“I don’t think we can do meaningful research
on the subject of coffee rust without a trip to the Caribbean,”
said his fellow botanist. “We should visit Guadeloupe.”

I happened to glance up in time to see Liz
watching me yet again, those intense eyes burning a hole straight
into my soul, and suddenly the answer of why was staring me right
in the face. She didn’t know about Jeff and me. This wasn’t about
her son. As far as she was concerned, I was just Woody’s daughter
and I happened to show up unexpectedly in Hawaii. But this was
indeed a mission of the heart. Liz was worried about Lara’s budding
relationship with my father. Would I object to him finding love and
use a monkey wrench to sabotage the romance? I decided to put the
ladies’ minds at rest and help things along in my own way. After
all, I didn’t want my father to remain a lonely man.

“That sounds like a sensible thing to do,” I
declared. “You need to go to the source in order to properly
evaluate the situation, Dad. You always told me that’s the pinnacle
of good research. Otherwise, you’re guessing that the conditions
are the same, instead of actually knowing for sure.”

My father, a bit surprised at my comment,
agreed. “Very good point, Chris. I wasn’t looking at it that way.
Maybe we should check things out in Guadeloupe, Lara.”

Lara and Liz exchanged quick glances, pleased
smiles on their faces, as if to say their plan was still on track.
A moment later, Liz turned her gaze back to me, and as the others
at the table were deep in conversation about the best places to
stay on the island, she gave me a wink.

We had just finished dessert and coffee when
Jeff asked if anyone wanted to take a walk along the bike path in
the moonlight.

“I’d love one,” I admitted, putting my napkin
on the table before I stood up. “Poor little Cooper is in need of a
walk. Do you mind if he joins us?”

“Who’s Cooper?” Liz wanted to know. “You have
a son?”

“No, my Yorkie,” I replied, smiling. I could
tell she was fishing for information, so I put her out of her
misery. “I don’t have any kids. No ex-husbands either.”

“Ah, did you hear that, Jefferson? She likes
dogs. All my boys are dog people, Chris. In fact, my other son,
Jackson, is a K-9 cop in New York.”

“Is he? That’s an interesting job.” I could
feel Jeff’s hand on the small of my back, pushing me forward,
toward the door.

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to tell
Chris all about the Cornwall clan, Mom. In the meantime, we’re
going to stretch our legs.”

“So, it’s just the two of you walking?” Liz
wasn’t going to let it go without a little poke at her son. “What
do the rest of you think? Does anyone else want to go?”

“I’ll pass. After today’s tour of the Kauai
Coffee Company fields,” Lara said, “I’m beat.”

“Me too,” my father agreed, stifling a yawn.
“It’s been a long day.”

“P. J.?” Liz turned her gaze on her husband.
“What do you say?”

“I say we should leave the young people
alone, Lisbeth, and take our ancient bones home to our rocking
chairs.”

“Well, I guess it’s decided then,” she
announced mischievously. “The old folks will pass on the invitation
for a moonlight stroll.”

We made our way out of the restaurant,
struggling to keep from laughing. Once outside, in the cover of
darkness, my mirth got the better of me.

“Oh, your mother is priceless!”

“Tell me about it,” he sighed, exasperated.
“I thought she would never shut up. Sometimes she’s a bit
nosey.”

“Especially about Cooper. I guess it’s a good
thing he’s a dog.”

“Were you surprised when I showed up?” he
wanted to know, as soon as we were out of sight. He slipped his
hand into mine and kissed my cheek sweetly.

“Surprised in a wonderful way.”

“I’m glad. You’ve never looked more
beautiful, Chris.”

“Stunned, but beautiful,” I giggled. “You
took my breath away when you appeared.”

I had so many questions to ask him, I wasn’t
sure where to start. I told him as much.

“Why don’t we get the little guy and then
I’ll tell you some of the things you need to know,” he
suggested.

Cooper was delighted to join us on our
moonlight stroll. He greeted Jeff with great canine enthusiasm that
lasted through the elevator trip down to the vestibule and out to
the sidewalk. Once he calmed down and began exploring the trail,
Jeff and I picked up the conversation.

“What do you want to know first,” he asked
me.

“Why is my father now using his real name,
after almost twenty years?”

“The answer is simple -- all those WikiLeaks.
Your father’s alias was compromised because of his role in finding
ways to prevent the harvesting of opium poppies. The company he
works for has been slowly expanding its product line as a counter
for the criticism it got on its genetically modified organism
research from the GMO crowd. In taking on the new projects, your
father began to identify potential agricultural improvements that
would be acceptable in certified organic farming, and to avoid
controversy, he used his birth name.”

“How does Lara fit into all this, especially
given the Cornwall family? Are you conning my father?” I studied
Jeff’s reaction carefully, noting every twitch and blink.

“Relax, Chris. Lara and your father actually
know each other legitimately through their work.”

“So, she’s not part of the investigation into
my family?”

“She has no idea what went on, any more than
my mother does. When Lincoln started back-tracking your witness
protection history, he needed to know more about your father, both
under his real name and his alias. So, I asked Lara if she ever
heard of him because I had done some research on the burgeoning
organic coffee market. That was all she needed to give your dad a
call and the next thing I knew, my mother and Lara were concocting
a plan to give her a chance to become better acquainted with the
widower. My mother used her contacts on Kauai and the rest is
history, so to speak.”

“So, this isn’t about WitSec? It’s really
about coffee?”

“It is, but why shouldn’t we kill two birds
with one stone, love? This is a chance for you to spend time with
your father while he’s doing something he loves to do, something
that won’t get either one of you killed.”

“That means this is really over? I can have a
normal life?”

“As soon as we wrap it all up, you can.”

“Meaning there’s still more to come?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Oh.” I sighed heavily, my disappointment
obvious. It felt like someone let the air out of my emotional
tires.

“There are a few things you need to know,
Chris. When you showed up in Windham, Jack, Philomena and Vidal got
busy checking you out. They knew something was off-kilter about the
WitSec activities, so they got in touch with Lincoln. By that time,
folks knew Jared was up to his eyeballs in dubious business and the
FBI was very interested in identifying in Jared’s partner in
crime.”

“They thought I was that partner?”

“They did, but that’s because no one knew
Jared was still alive. Because this looked like a big federal case,
especially after Shaun and Tovar were attacked, the FBI called
Lincoln back from his overseas assignment and put him to work on
it. I agreed to help out.”

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