“Then you might want to let loose the death grip that you have on the arm of the chair. I wouldn’t be shocked if someone asks you if you need an Ex-Lax if you keep this up.”
I stuck out my tongue since it was too much trouble to raise my middle finger, but I did let go of my grip.
“Paris, Holland, I’d like you to meet Brandy Lakote, she’s the investigator who has been researching Johnson Holbrook for us.”
“Hello,” Paris greeted her, always so friendly to everyone.
I, on the other hand, not so much. I gave her a nod.
“I’m so sorry to hear what happened to you. Besides being hurt, I’m sure that you must have been frightened—I know I would have been. Well, you look amazing for what you’ve been through. I hope that I’ll be able to relieve some stress with some of the information that I have.” Okay, the woman was friendly, but that didn’t mean I had to be best buddies with her. “Where would you like me to sit?” She asked the question so anyone could answer, but her eyes were on me. I glanced to Paris since technically this was her home.
“Wherever is fine. How about the couch so that Holland doesn’t have to move again?”
“Perfect.”
London came in, and Braden grabbed another chair from the kitchen. I watched as my family, ever conscious of my feelings, moved like it had been preplanned. Paris sat next to Brandy. Braden handed Reid the chair, which he set close to me. And Braden and London moved to the loveseat. I glanced over and saw Reid grinning at them as well. He knew the kind of games my family played, well, he’d been part of it when we played them with London and with Paris so I have no clue why I was shocked.
Brandy pulled out a laptop and then several printed documents. She handed Reid a copy, and he passed them to Braden.
“Let’s discuss the hole. It appears as if this particular hole has been there for several months. Braden, that information you gave Reid about the tire tracks was extremely helpful and led me to the type of equipment used, without it, we still might not have the most incriminating evidence of all. First, let me tell you that the tires are Nokian Mine, they are made specifically for drill rigs, which let me know that the hole was actually dug by a well drilling rig.”
“Who, how?” Paris, London, and I questioned at the same time.
“I’m getting to that.” Brandy held up one finger. “Once I figured out the equipment, I started contacting companies that drilled wells until I found the one.” Brandy took several pieces of paper that were stapled together off the tall stack she had set out and passed it around. When it got to me, I saw that it was a contract for hire to Frampton Wells, including the proposal, and receipt upon completion. “He was hired and told it was to be a shallow well only to supply water to that back quadrant of land. But the owner never had the well finished, and of course, that seemed odd to them, but the bill was paid, so they let it go.”
“There’s no name on this contract, just our address. Who hired them?”
“That took a little more digging,” Brandy explained. “They keep their clients information private, but they don’t hide the invoice numbers. I just sat in the office and patiently waited to speak to Mr. Frampton and when the secretary needed to take a potty break, I entered the invoice number, and voila.” Brandy pulled out a photo of a computer screen that showed the invoice she was talking about. We could all see the customer name. Johnson Holbrook. “It is the only thing we have that actually has his name, but it’s also the most important thing since the geophysicist was brought out to test that hole.”
“That son of a bitch,” I hissed.
“Why our land? What made him choose this area?” London asked.
“It seems that for the last several years, Lake Harney has had some serious algae issues, as well as a few new homes in Seminole Woods subdivision have built swimming pools and are experiencing abnormal algae issues as well. All of these reports of course are documented with the county.”
“What does algae growth have to do with my property? Or any of the properties they want to buy?”
“Holbrook had been working with a geophysicist who had actually accompanied him out to several of the properties. According to him, it’s a nutrient source for algae and also an indication that an area is rich with phosphate. ” Brandy took a few more pages from her stack and passed them around. They were a variety of scientific tests including the chemical formula PO43-. I wracked my brain to try to remember the chemical formula chart from back in high school. O was easy, that was oxygen, but was P phosphorus or phosphoric acid? Crap. I really should have paid more attention. I finally gave up and asked, hoping someone had paid attention in chemistry. “Is PO43- the chemical compound for phosphate?”
Brandy must have been the only one or she had Googled it earlier. “Yes it is. You see, to Holbrook, all of those algae reports meant that there was phosphate. Many of the land samples were done with simple surface magnetic testing, but it seems that the Kellys’ land gave some astronomical numbers, which is what led him to do a drilling sample.”
“So . . . if I’m reading this right, they found phosphates on our property?”
“They did. But unless you want to turn your yard into a mine, there’s little that can be done since you need to dig deep to get it.”
“I understand the importance of phosphate—hello, we’re ranchers, after all. I’m just not willing to ruin our property to get it.” This aggravated me because phosphates were needed, without them there would be no way to supply enough food for the world, it is what made fertilizer work and grow vegetables and fruits as well as grass and hay feed. “But why would a land developer be interested?”
“I have two theories.” Brandy pulled out another packet of paper. “Minute Maid—”
“As in orange juice?”
“That’s the one, has been selling their land in Polk County, which is just an hour and a half from here. As you know, that area is theme park central, you have Disney on one side and then Legoland right at the back of their property with these came a rise in tourists which also mean a rise in traffic, congestion, and pollution. The EPA has documented the decline in soil nutrient tests. An area like this that is land locked may be worth top dollar to a big company grower if the soil were rich in nutrients.”
“What’s your other theory?” I asked.
“Are you familiar with Bone Valley?” Brandy asked. I shook my head. “It is the major phosphate mining area of Florida, it has been in operation since the late nineteenth century. It seems that people are offering top dollar for large parcels of land with a minimum of twenty-five thousand acres.” Brandy opened an aerial map. “I’ve marked the properties that I know he’d made a claim for, if you look here, they’re almost like a perimeter line. My calculations are an estimate since acres are area and miles are length but each mile is roughly six-hundred-forty acres. In other words, he has marked off a perimeter that encompasses about seventy-five thousand acres.”
“So, all of this eminent domain was just staged because he believed that he was going make beaucoup bucks?”
“That’s what I’m assuming,” Brandy agreed. “I did speak with someone from the Transportation Committee, and they told me that someone did bring up the idea of making an extension for I-95 to SR-417, but it wasn’t even a consideration.” She grabbed several other sheets of paper and passed those around. “I’ve already shared this with Reid, but the councilman who has been assisting Holbrook is actually his son-in-law.”
Paris, London, and I let out a gasp. “The asshat,” I practically spit.
“I’m not sure why no one else has brought this up, but it’s true. Also, his son, Michael, is using threats and the official state and county symbols to make his threats seem legitimate, is enough to get him disbarred. As far as Holbrook, you can decide civil actions, but I’ll let you”—she turned to Braden—“handle the criminal. I have a copy of all of this for you if it helps with your arrests.”
“It will.” Braden reached forward and took th
e stack that Brandy held out.
“Once again, I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to discover the digging prior to you getting injured.” I waved off her apology. It wasn’t her fault, after all. “I’ll leave my business card here with a copy of the papers for you in case you need anything else.” She grabbed one more stack and handed them to Reid. “If you all will excuse me, I have a flight to catch.”
“One more question?” I asked.
“Sure.”
“What about all of the historical information I had found? Was any of that viable?”
“Actually, yes. It was my backup. The information about Osceola was priceless. The Seminole Nation will be sending elders to this area to continue your work on preserving the chief’s history.”
I found a little self satisfaction in those words, maybe my hours of being bored to death had made a difference and in the long run would protect us from having another person, another Johnson Holbrook try to swindle our lands.
“I really must be off.” Brandy stood and shook each of our hands. “Reid, it was so great seeing you again. You look so happy here, this is where you’re supposed to be.” Brandy leaned forward and hugged him, but Reid didn’t hug her back or bother to take his hands from his pockets. Something about his stance triggered a memory in my mind. This was exactly how he was standing on the porch that evening. He wasn’t embracing her. She was hugging him. Damn it, Holland. Ugh.
While I was berating myself, Brandy had left and Reid was the only person remaining in the room but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I’ve got to get back to my stables.” He turned to me but still didn’t meet my eyes and it crushed me. “Glad to see you up and moving, Holland.” Holland? What about tiger or honey? I didn’t want him to call me Holland, not now.
“Reid, can we talk?” I bit my lower lip as I asked the question.
“I think we’ve said enough.” I let out a whoosh of air, his words stole my breath and not in a good way.
Once Reid was gone, Braden headed to the station, London took Tera to her house, I pulled myself out of the chair and shuffled back to my room. The sound of my bones popping with each swing of my arms and shake of my hips since I hadn’t been moving very much reminded of a geriatric home. I crawled back into my bed and buried my head.
I got up to use the restroom. That was the only thing that made me leave the sanctuary of my bed. I even propped myself up against the headboard to eat, that was of course when I felt like eating, which wasn’t often.
Chapter Nineteen
Holland
When I woke up today, I had totally lost my grasp on what day it was. Reaching for my phone, I realized that it was gone. “Paris. Parissss.”
“You rang?” Paris’s head popped in around the half-closed door.
“Do you know where my phone is?”
“Sure do.” I waited for her to finish, but she didn’t say anything else.
“Care to tell me?”
“I can show you.” I scowled. “It’s sitting on the dining room table right next to your lunch.”
“So it’s noon?”
“No. It’s been sitting there.”
“How long?”
“You’ll have to look at your phone to find out.”
“Damn it, Paris, what day is it?”
“The day that you get your ass up and get moving. No more meals in bed. Take a shower, get dressed, brush the sweater off your teeth, and get out here. I’m sure that you’re going to be stiff as a board from not moving. That doesn’t help you heal.”
“I hate you.”
“I love you,” Paris singsonged as she closed the door behind her.
I wasn’t sure how long it took me to get ready, but I swore that I moved slower today than I had when I first came home from the hospital.
When I finally made my way to the kitchen, I was shocked to discover that it had been one week since my accident.
I slid it into my back pocket, ignored the plate she had left for me, and pulled on my boots. I wasn’t going to win any races, but I finally made my way to the door and was out in the fresh air. The sun was warm. I took a deep breath and coughed. Then arched my back from the pain. Nope, my ribs weren’t going to let me forget that they were broken.
Gripping on to the handrail, I took one step at a time, working my way down the front porch. It was a combination of my injuries and being holed up for a week that made everything in me hurt. But I needed to see my babies.
I crept down to the stables, totally forgetting exactly how far one hundred yards really was until I had to walk in this condition. Still, something in me released when I inhaled the smell of fresh hay. To me it was like coming home.
Each step bringing me closer to the place I wanted to be above all else.
A few more steps, just a few more. Come on, you can make it.
Ever since losing Reid as someone to talk to or bitch about, I’d discovered that I talked to myself a lot more.
At least when I talk to myself, I know that I have intelligent company.
I made a mental note to use that against Reid if he should ever start talking to me again. It would be a good jab.
Resting my weight against the wall, I dragged myself along the side of the stable and then rounded the corner into the huge opening and paused. Someone, or rather some man was bent over in one of my stalls. I shook my head to clear away the pain medicine haze, okay, I hadn’t been on pain meds for days, but you never knew.
I watched as the man slid his arms back, forward, then hoisted them over his shoulder. Holy cow, he was mucking my stalls. “All right, boy, your stall is all clean. I’ll be back with an apple. Let me get the others finished first.” My heart squeezed at the sound of Reid’s voice, I had no clue what he was doing in my stables let alone cleaning them. He reached forward and rubbed my beautiful gray gelding’s snout. “I know, she misses you, too.” He stepped back and then moved to the next stall. “Hey there, beautiful.” I smiled as Cruella leaned her head over to greet Reid. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as this man, the one who I had been mean to, cleaned my stables.
“Yep, three times a day.” I turned to face London, who had whispered in my ear. “He is here at the crack of dawn then goes home to take care of his own stables. He comes back midday to do the heavy cleaning and rotate a few in the paddock so they can work off some energy. Then he comes back just after dinner to feed them, walk or ride the rest, and lock up for the evening.”
“But . . . I assumed that it was Braden—”
“Braden doesn’t have time. Between working his own job and working overtime on the Holbrook case, I barely see him.”
“What about Asher?”
“Asher is a veterinarian not a stable hand. He knows about their health, but not about mucking. You know as well as I do that ever since Wally retired, Jack has been working full-time with the cattle now.” She was right. Wally had always handled all things ranch business along with London, which left Jack to help me whenever I needed him. But we just didn’t have any extra hands. “I had come down to the stables to meet a guy and interview him, but Reid was already here. He said that he’d take care of it until you were back on your feet. Go talk to him. That man likes you, might even be in love with you, but if you keep pushing him away, he might just believe it when you tell him you’re not interested.”
I took a deep breath, which hurt, and nodded because London was right. I turned to tell her as much, but she was already walking off.
My feet shuffled through the hay on the ground as I made my way to him.
“Hey.”
Reid set the pitchfork to the side and folded his arms. “I don’t think you should be down here.”
“There was stuff I needed to do. Besides, I’ve been locked up way too long.” I took several steps toward him.
“You aren’t ready to start climbing those stairs yet.” He looked up to the huge flight that went up to my apartment.
“No, I reckon not. But I wanted to see my babies.” I rested a
gainst the wall before taking more steps.
“Of course you did.” Something in his voice held a hint of jealousy, and a small part of me felt a twinge of hope at that. “Well, I’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes.”
“No, please don’t go.” I walked closer to him. I could see his eyes, the tiny crease at the corners, and the lines above his upper lip. He was angry and fighting back the urge to say something. “I want to talk with you.”
“About what? I believe that you said a lot the day I brought you home from the hospital.”
“Please. I wasn’t thinking straight.” He raised one eyebrow, not buying my excuse. Okay, I was using that, but it was partially true. “I was heavily medicated on pain meds. You have no clue exactly what I would have said had I been in my right mind.” Reid lifted his other brow, but his face relaxed and his lips turned into a smirk. “Okay, fine, we have no clue what I’m going to say even when I’m in my right mind. There, I said it. Happy now?” I rolled my eyes.
“Appeased.”
“Wow, just what I was aiming for . . . to appease Reid Brooks.” He let out a soft chuckle. “Just so you know, doing all of this won’t get you laid.”
“Good, now maybe I can get some stuff done and not worry about you hitting on me.”
I laughed, pleased we could still banter. “I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“You heard me, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“You really aren’t going to make this easy on me, are you?”
“Holland, to be honest, I have no clue what you’re sorry for. I mean, it isn’t as if you really did anything wrong. You didn’t lie to me, you didn’t steal from me, or cheat on me.”
“No, but I hurt you.”
“That isn’t your fault, that’s mine.” Reid turned and grabbed the pitchfork.
“Don’t.” He stopped. “I also lied to you.” There it was again, that one raised eyebrow. “I lied when I said that I didn’t have feelings for you.” I could hear my heart, which was weird, but I could literally hear my blood as it pumped from my heart to my veins and back again as I waited for him to say something, anything. I waited several seconds and he still didn’t say anything.
Steadfast (Iron Horse Book 3) Page 13