Gareth, standing next to him, said, “Luca Giardano has been in the news a lot, so I’ll give you the abbreviated version. Large agriculture on the Eastern Shore had been mostly potatoes until the Great Depression. Slowly, by the middle of the 1900s, vegetable farming became the most profitable crop, and after that, it was tomatoes. By 2000, there were over 3200 acres of tomatoes being grown. Luca’s grandfather bought his first farm not long after he came over from Italy. It appears he had some family money, and during the depression snapped up more and more small farms. He passed everything on to his son, and Luca’s father continued buying more land for more crops. He finagled contracts with some of the big national food processing chains, commanding prices that none of the small farmers around could compete with.”
Nodding, Scott met Gareth’s eyes and said, “So far, I’m not hearing anything untoward.”
“Oh, he’s not a shining star, but what I’m finding doesn’t seem too unusual. I don’t know anything about agriculture, but I’ve been learning. The reason tomatoes grow so well out here was because of something called plastic ground mulch, called plasticulture. It appears as a powerful tool to increase vegetable yields. I won’t go into all the shit I’ve been learning about tomato growing—”
Scott’s snort interrupted Gareth, and both men laughed.
“Oh, yeah,” Gareth admitted. “I learned a lot more than I ever needed to know about fuckin’ tomatoes!”
They allowed the moment of mirth to settle, easing the tension Scott had felt since arriving at Lizzie’s. Sighing, he nodded for Gareth to continue.
“It appears that environmentally, plasticulture has been vilified even though it actually increases the flavor of the tomatoes and the hardiness of the crop. By 2009, environmentalists were complaining because the runoff of the herbicides was affecting the clams and oyster farmers in the area. The problem is, tomatoes are a big business… at a tune of almost a hundred million dollars, and out here, Giardano Farms controls a lot of that.”
Whistling through his teeth, Scott said, “With that much money, why does he want to continue buying up more farms?”
Shaking his head, Gareth said, “I don’t know. I know that the Weston Farm lies between two of Luca’s plots of land. I’m sure it would be easier if he has all of this as well.”
“What about the ecologists? Did farms have to make any changes?”
“Yeah, laws were finally passed in Virginia to regulate plasticulture farming, which, of course, gave a hit to Luca. By then, he had taken over from his own father. About the same time, there was a huge lawsuit when it was discovered that some of Luca’s farms had illegal wells that were irrigating his crops. He ended up having to pay about four hundred thousand dollars in fines and rework his wells so that they were within guidelines.”
“So, he’s hardly a Boy Scout,” Scott commented, watching Colt stand and begin walking toward him.
“Honestly, he’s no different than many other big farms. That’s why it’s hard to see him doing anything illegal to get this farm. He’s got a lot of money and a lot of acreage. He’s had some trouble in the past, but so have the other farmers and has always paid his fines and then met regulations.”
Strangely, Scott was irritated that Luca was not turning out to be a more nefarious individual. If he had been, it would have been easier to see someone working for Luca wanting to force Lizzie to give up the farm.
“Luca is in his fifties. Are there any sons of his that are wanting to become the next tomato king?”
Laughing, Gareth replied, “He’s got one son that’s finishing graduate school in agriculture business and a daughter that’s an accountant working for her dad.” Looking at Scott, he suggested, “Hey, with you being an accountant also, maybe you can get together with her and find out more.”
He had to admit the idea held merit, but right now, the only thought he had was the look on Colt’s face as he approached.
“What have you got?”
Colt growled, “Two of the fence posts were definitely cut. This road has little traffic so there probably was no one coming by last night to see anyone at the fence. Once the fence posts were cut, it took little to pull it down.”
“When was the last time she checked the fence?” Hunter asked.
“She goes around every evening,” Scott explained. “That was something that her grandfather always did, and she does it as well. So, this morning, she had no reason to think that the alpacas would not be safe in that pasture.”
“There’s no distinctive footprints in the area, but the animals as well as the two of you probably would have obliterated them if they were there. The wooden posts appear to be sawed roughly, so I would assume someone had a handsaw, not a chainsaw,” Colt added.
Everyone swung their gazes toward Gareth, and Colt asked, “You’re here, so I’m assuming you’re doing some digging for Lizzie?”
Dipping his head toward Scott, Gareth replied, “Actually, Scott’s got me on this. He was concerned about Luca Giardano trying to buy out Lizzie. On top of that, I’m taking a look at Paul Dugan.”
Getting nods from the others, Gareth continued. “Yeah, he’s a slick shit, for sure. From what I’ve been able to dig up on him, he gets his hands on cheap land, builds crap neighborhoods with crap houses, and then, when owners complain, he just lets things go into drawn out litigation until the homeowners can’t afford to keep paying so they give up the lawsuit—or he countersues. Found out that his lawyer is his brother, Yancey.”
Colt added, “Yeah, I’ve heard of him. I’ve taken several complaints, usually from elderly widows who feel like they were manipulated into selling their land very cheap. He was investigated about a year ago but manages to skate just on the side of the law to keep from doing anything illegal.”
Blowing out a breath, Scott shook his head. “I can’t believe that with everything she’s going through, Lizzie has to deal with this shit.”
“Could it just be kids?” Gareth asked. “Are we missing the obvious and making this more than just teens looking to play a prank?”
Pondering, Scott said, “I don’t know. I just know I’m going to keep a better eye on this place and on Lizzie. It’s what Beau would’ve wanted, and it’s what I want, too.”
Colt chuckled. “I wanted to keep Carrie safe, and she ended up in my house pretty damn quick.”
“Don’t think I’ll be moving Lizzie out anytime soon,” Scott said. Staring at the barn for a moment, his gaze searched the area. “I’m going to add some lights out here. I can’t secure the entire farm, but I can at least make sure that there is plenty of illumination around the barn where the animals are at night.”
Gareth grinned and asked, “Would you be interested in a security camera, as well?”
Eyebrows lifted, Scott replied, “Absolutely.”
Colt promised that he would add Lizzie’s road on the night rotation for a sheriff’s car to drive by. Offering his thanks, Scott shook their hands before they walked back to Colt’s SUV.
Gareth clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll get a camera set up and keep digging to see what I can find out. In the meantime, take care of Lizzie.”
Walking back to the house, he watched as Katelyn gave a heartfelt hug to Lizzie before climbing into the car with Gareth. Carrie and Belle had driven together, and with Lizzie assuring them that she was okay, they left as well.
He walked over and immediately enveloped her into his arms, noting Rufus had not left her side. Kissing the top of her head, he asked, “How was your visit with the girls?”
With her arms banded around his waist, she leaned back and peered up. “I’d hardly call it a visit, Scott. I know they just came with their husbands to keep me from going out there and poking my nose into the investigation. Honestly, I’m so mad, I barely registered anything they were saying.” Shoulders slumping, she sighed. “But it was nice that they came. I’ve never had a group of girlfriends before, so it’s cool that they wanted to check on me.”
Th
ey stood silent for a moment, their arms still wrapped around each other, then she mumbled against his chest, “I need to fix dinner.”
“Oh, no, Lizzie. We’ll go out—”
“Nope, not on your life,” she said, narrowing her eyes as she looked up again. “I’ve been planning this dinner all day and looking forward to it. The chicken has been marinating and it will take me very little time to throw together the vegetables. I’m not letting the asshole who tore down my fence ruin the rest of my day!”
Chuckling, he gave her a squeeze and nodded. “Let me wash my hands and then I’ll help.”
“That sounds perfect.”
He watched with interest as she boiled then mashed potatoes, adding crunchy bits of bacon, butter and sour cream, and chives. They chatted while she rolled out homemade biscuits and put them in the oven, then battered and fried the chicken. Quickly boiling corn on the cob, she soon plated full meals for them, and they sat down at the table with glasses of sweet tea.
Throughout the process, she did not talk a lot, but then, Lizzie was not someone who chattered endlessly. She spoke when she had something to say and appeared to be comfortable with silence. He kept a pulse on her, but the events from earlier, while upsetting, no longer had her rattled.
He almost brought it up, asking if she was okay with everything, but did not want to push. So, instead, he sat close to her at the family table and enjoyed the meal, giving Rufus a few bites of chicken and gravy. She shared a few stories of growing up on the farm, including a few memories from Baytown High School.
“I rarely went to social events,” she admitted. “There was always work to be done on the farm after school, so, like most agriculture kids, I got off the bus and went to work. I did belong to the FFA.” Grinning, she said, “I raised a few prize-winning pigs, I’ll have you know.”
“Prize-winning?”
“I’ve got the blue ribbons to prove it,” she laughed. After a moment she sobered. “We sold off most of our pigs, except for the two that I have behind the barn. I’m raising them to be fat and sassy and will have someone butcher them for me this fall. Someone local does that, and I’ll get the meat wrapped to go into the freezer.”
They were ready to dig into apple pie for dessert, and his spoon halted on its path to his mouth. Eyebrows lifted, he repeated, “Butchered?”
“It’s a working farm, Scott. I know it’s hard to imagine growing up this way, but when Papa Beau had some cows as well as pigs, that was how we got a lot of our meat. The extra we had, the butcher would pay us for so that he could sell it to others.”
“I feel rather foolish,” he admitted. “That makes perfect sense, and yet, I just had not thought about it.”
She lifted her shoulders in a delicate shrug. “I sometimes imagine what it must’ve been like for my great-grandparents. Certainly, they could have gone into Baytown to a mercantile store, but their vegetables were grown in the garden, their dairy came from the couple of dairy cows they kept, and their meat came from the cows and pigs they raised.”
“Are you going to get more pigs?”
Nibbling on her bottom lip for a moment, she shook her head slowly. “No, I don’t think so. To be honest, I don’t eat enough meat to warrant having a whole pig butchered for me. Certainly, I could just sell the meat, but then I’d have to spend money on the feed. I think when the last two are gone, I won’t buy anymore. The goats I’ll keep raising for the milk, and while alpacas are not big money makers, I can get about two thousand dollars a year on their fleece. That’s not a lot, but if I can learn to clean it and spin it, then I would get a lot more.”
“And don’t forget about your farm plans. Parties. Soap and lotion-making classes. Animal petting days. And even goat yoga!”
Throwing her head back, she laughed. “Oh, I haven’t forgotten any of that. And I know that goat yoga made a big impression on you.”
“I know we just went over a rudimentary business plan, but how are things going?”
Pushing her now-empty plate away, she leaned back in her chair, pulled one leg up and wrapped her arms around it, rested her chin on her knee, and held his gaze. “I’m trying to keep my costs down as much as possible like you suggested. Graphic design isn’t Sophia’s career, but she created a beautiful logo for my products, and I’ve been able to print them on sticky labels here at home. They’re not in color, but I think they’re adorable. I have been working to make more lotion and soap, trying to replenish the depleted stock from after the sale at the fairgrounds.”
“I think that’s great,” he said.
“Jack has come over twice after school, and he’s going to work out great. He’s able to do a late afternoon feeding and get the animals into the barn, giving me a chance to make more products. I created a flyer for hosting children’s birthday parties with the baby goats and women’s parties for product making. I gave them to Katelyn, Carrie, and Belle today and they’re going to distribute them around town.” Shrugging, she said, “We’ll see how it goes, but with Lia and Aiden’s daughter having her birthday party here, I think word-of-mouth will help.”
Shifting forward in his seat, Scott leaned toward her, resting one hand on her leg and the other cupping her cheek. “Have I told you lately that I think you’re amazing?” With her cheek in his hand, he could feel the heat of blush as it rose over her delicate features. “It’s the truth, Lizzie. You have strength and tenacity in you that I’ve rarely seen before. But, having met Beau, I can imagine that it came from your family.”
Closing the space between them, he angled his head and kissed her. She immediately dropped her leg down and reached out, clutching his shirt in her hands.
If he had any doubt of her desire, she obliterated it when she shifted forward, straddling his thighs and pressing her body close to his. Throughout that maneuver, their mouths remain sealed, tongues vying for dominance, sharing each other’s moans.
He had wanted to give her more time, wanted her to be sure. With his hands on her shoulders, he gently pulled back a scant inch, opening his mouth to suggest they slow down.
As though reading his mind, she scrunched her fingers in his shirt even tighter and said, “Scott, I want you now. I’m not looking for a balm for grief. I’m not looking for a way to forget what’s going on with the farm. I just know what I feel for you and what I want. And I want. You. Now.”
A slow smile curved his lips, and he stood, giving her room to wrap her legs around his waist. Carrying her to the bottom of the stairs, he hefted her slightly before allowing her feet to slide to the floor. She smiled, linking her fingers with his, and led him up the staircase.
19
When they arrived at the top of the stairs, Lizzie’s feet did not falter as she led him straight into her bedroom. A quick glance around assured her that the room was picked up and no underwear was lying about. She sucked in her lips as she recognized what a ridiculous notion that had been considering she hoped Scott would soon be seeing a lot more than just her underwear.
A combination of excitement and nerves shot through her but, refusing to give into them, she stopped at the bed before turning and facing him. She stared up, hoping he was not going to put the brakes on them again. She had no idea what the morning would bring but so wanted this night with this man.
Their fingers unlinked as he lifted his hands and cupped her face, his thumbs gliding over her cheeks. Her hands moved to his waist, her fingers digging in slightly before he pulled her closer and she clutched his back.
Bending slightly, he kissed her again, this time soft and slow. His lips were strong and supple, and as a moan erupted from deep inside her, he slipped his tongue into her mouth, capturing the sound. Just as before, her nipples tightened with need.
They were pressed together from knees to chest, and the evidence of his desire was overwhelmingly pressed against her stomach.
His hands slid from her face, down her back, and slipped under her T-shirt. As his fingers skimmed over her skin and moved upward, the materi
al was dragged as well, snagging on the underside of her breasts.
His thumbs caressed the sides before moving over her nipples. Air left her lungs as she fought to breathe, the sensations causing a swirl of electricity moving to her core.
Forcing her feet backward a step, she lifted her hands above her head, giving silent permission for him to remove her shirt. He wasted no time in doing just that, dropping it to the floor as his gaze landed on her breasts, barely contained in her simple white cotton bra. The sight of his heated gaze on her body gave her courage, and she reached behind her and unsnapped the bra, letting it slide down her arms, exposing her to his view.
His hands moved back over her breasts, now able to tweak her nipples with no material hindering the sensation. She battled between wanting to revel in the feel of his firm hands and wanting to feel his naked chest pressed against hers. The desire to see him won out, and as he continued to mold her breasts, she tugged at the bottom of his T-shirt, pulling it upward.
“I’m too short,” she complained in a soft voice, unable to get the shirt completely over his head.
Grinning, he disagreed. “I think you’re perfect.” He reached behind his head and grabbed onto the T-shirt, pulling it off and tossing it to the floor.
Her fingers followed her gaze as they trailed over the ridges of his muscular chest and tight abs. The found several scars, puckered skin snagging her fingers, making her ache for his past pain. Leaning closer, her breasts touched his upper abdomen as she kissed the scars on his shoulder. She had noticed a small scar on his upper lip, wondering how he had been injured while thinking it gave his face such character.
Now, she looked at his naked upper body, thinking all of him had such character. Capturing his gaze, she whispered, “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”
Moving faster than she could have imagined, he picked her up, sealing his mouth over hers in a deep kiss before laying her on the bed. Bending, he pulled off her socks and then divested her of her jeans and panties.
Count On Me: Baytown Boys Page 14