Riding High

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Riding High Page 11

by Stacy Finz


  “There’s plenty of land here, Gia. I’m sure we can persuade Flynn to let us use a portion of it for Christmas trees.”

  “Are you two close?” Gia asked, trying to sound casual.

  “Pretty close, yeah.”

  Okay, what did that mean? “He said he did legal work for your family.”

  “Mm-hmm. We . . . my parents . . . own a rice farm near Yuba City. He helped with their estate.”

  “Is that how you met?”

  “Our families have known each other for years. Flynn was brought in to be a peacemaker.”

  “Uh . . . contentious, huh?” Gia didn’t want to pry, but she was curious about Flynn’s role.

  “It usually is with farmers and their succession plans. Rarely is everyone on the same page and things can get vicious fast.” Annie left it at that and Gia didn’t want to press.

  “Say I work things out with Flynn and the cattle, how much would the start-up costs be for the trees?” The idea of a Christmas tree farm appealed to her. Gia saw a lot of ways in which women in her residential program could get involved. The wreaths were a stroke of genius.

  “That would depend on how many acres you wanted to plant.”

  Gia had no idea. “Want to go inside the house and have a drink? I’ve got a steep learning curve ahead of me and I’d rather approach it with something cold.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  They talked for hours. Annie was an amazing listener and Gia found herself opening up about the FBI investigation and how she’d hired Flynn to represent her in the short-term.

  “I’m sorry this is happening to you,” Annie said. “I don’t know much about your situation, but it does appear to me that you’re being turned into a scapegoat for your ex-boyfriend. Unfortunately, women make easy targets, especially strong women.”

  Gia got the sense that Annie had some personal experience in that area.

  “What I don’t understand is why you want to farm,” she continued. “You could do better financially using your stock trading skills. Farming on the scale we’re talking about isn’t hugely profitable. I mean, I get wanting to use your land. Heck, I commend you for it. But compared to a television celebrity’s income, the Christmas trees and hay would simply be a sideline.”

  “First off, I’m no longer a television celebrity. But to answer your question, I’m not looking to get rich off the farming.” What the hell, Gia thought, she may as well confide in Annie. At some point soon, she’d have to unveil the idea of her residential program to her neighbors and Annie would be a good sounding board. “I have a bigger plan; the farming is a small part of it.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I want to set up a residential program for women in dire economic straits and teach them how to be financially sufficient. I’d like to use the farm as a business model to teach everything from budgeting to prioritizing bills. Hopefully, the farm will be successful enough to subsidize the program.”

  Gia talked fast, detailing her plan, afraid that if she came up for air Annie would voice disapproval and accuse her of using the farm to circumvent the zoning rules. When she finally finished, Annie surprised her by beaming gamma rays of sunshine.

  “Wow, what an amazing idea. It’ll be like your show, but on a much more personal level. How will you choose the women?”

  Gia hadn’t figured that out yet, but that was the easy part. It was getting the plan past Nugget, starting with her immediate neighbors, that worried her. “I still have to work that out. How do you think it’ll play with the locals?”

  “I’m not from here, but my experience growing up in a rural area is that people can be skittish about anything new. They may be nervous about the women you’d be bringing in.”

  Given that Gia herself was the target of a criminal probe she figured “nervous” was an understatement.

  “I would have Flynn help you win them over,” Annie said. “Everyone loves Flynn.”

  Gia wondered if that included Annie. Every time Annie mentioned Flynn, Gia had trouble keeping the green-eyed monster at bay. Annie was too young for him, Gia chided herself.

  Yeah, like when had age ever stopped a man?

  Case in point: Evan had been ten years her senior. Flynn had said he was thirty-nine, only four years older than Gia. Totally age appropriate.

  Enough with Flynn, Gia told herself. She had to keep her eye on the goal, not on her lawyer.

  “What’s the next step?” Gia asked Annie.

  “It depends on how you want to proceed. Perhaps you should first feel out your neighbors before spending money on tilling the land, buying seed and trees, and putting in irrigation, which is no small investment.”

  Gia sighed, knowing she had an uphill battle. “You’re probably right. But I want to show them this is every bit an agricultural venture. If I can set up a meeting, could I hire you to speak about the farming end of it?” Gia knew Annie would add tons of credibility. No question the woman knew her stuff.

  “Absolutely. I love this idea and will help any way I can.” She gathered up her purse and the crop reports she’d brought to show Gia. “I’ve got to get going.”

  Gia walked her out, thanked her for coming, and watched her drive away in the turquoise Ford. Back in the house, she was clearing away the dirty glasses when the phone rang. Initially, she thought to ignore it. Reporters had somehow gotten hold of her new number and started calling again. But it could be Dana. They were planning a trip to Reno for Dana’s wedding gown fitting.

  She glanced at caller ID, saw it was Flynn, and immediately picked up.

  “Your ears must be burning,” she said.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Annie and I were talking about you.”

  “She came already?” He seemed surprised.

  “She was here all morning and has really great ideas, which I need to talk to you about.” Gia put the glasses in the dishwasher.

  “Okay. I met with Croce, Donovan, and Casserly on your situation.”

  “Who’s Casserly?”

  “Assistant U.S. Attorney. We need to talk about that too.”

  That didn’t sound good to Gia. “Is it bad news?”

  “It’s not great news, but I suppose it could be worse. Let’s not do it over the phone, though. I’ve got to come out tomorrow to vaccinate some of the calves and for a cattlemen’s meeting.” Flynn’s deep baritone voice reminded Gia of his mother’s honey. Smooth and silky.

  “Where are you now?”

  “Twenty miles from Quincy. Traffic was a bitch getting out of Sac.”

  “Why don’t you come here and stay the night?” His end of the line went silent and Gia was sorry she’d asked. “I’d rather not wait until tomorrow for my bad news.”

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll stay over the garage.” He made sure to emphasize “over the garage.” “I’m starved, though. You want to meet at the Ponderosa?”

  She’d had enough iced tea with Annie to fill an SUV’s gas tank and wasn’t the least bit hungry. “Sure. What’s your ETA?”

  “About ninety minutes. I’m gonna stop home first to shower and get some clothes.”

  For a second she flashed on Flynn naked in her own shower, then made herself block the vision of his hard, wet body. “I’ll meet you there around six, then.”

  Gia took a bath in her spa tub while gazing out at the gorgeous Feather River and Sierra mountains. The place was so private she didn’t have to draw the drapes. It was like being one with nature. Wrapping herself in a bath sheet, she got out of the tub and searched her walk-in closet for something to wear. Most of her clothes—pastel suits and monochromatic dresses—were left over from her TV days and were totally impractical for Nugget, where dressing up meant putting on your best pair of cowboy boots.

  But she wanted to wear something other than jeans and a T-shirt so she chose a color-block sleeveless crepe dress she used to wear with a matching jacket on the set. Without the jacket it looked springy and flattered her figure. She dressed it down w
ith a pair of flats, although high heels would’ve drawn more attention to her legs, which as far as Gia was concerned were her best feature. But she didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard.

  She drove to the square and bumped into Owen on her way into the Ponderosa.

  “We saw you go into the police department yesterday with those agents.” He bobbed his chin at her. “Rhys is as closemouthed as a mute. So, did they get you under the bright lights? Make you spill your guts?”

  Clearly the barber watched a lot of television. “They asked me about a vacation I took two winters ago with Evan. I told them what I knew.” And lied.

  “Are they gonna find the guy?”

  Gia shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. He seems pretty well hidden.”

  “Do you have him stashed in Ray’s big house? Plenty of room to hide someone in there.”

  “No, of course not.” She didn’t know why she was even dignifying his question with an answer.

  “I’ve got my eyes on you, missy.”

  “Good to know.” The old guy was dotty.

  She went inside the Ponderosa and Flynn waved to her from the back. The restaurant was crowded. One of the owners came over with a menu to seat her.

  “Thanks, but I’m with him.” Gia pointed to Flynn.

  “I used to devour your show.” The woman put the menu away.

  “Thank you,” Gia said, a little taken aback. She’d been in the restaurant and the adjoining bowling alley a number of times since she started looking for property in Nugget and neither owner had ever said a word to her. They’d always been friendly to whoever she was with: Dana, Harlee, or Darla. But that was it.

  “I used to be in marketing and public relations and it used to drive some of my celebrity clients crazy when strangers would make a fuss over them in public, so I hope I’m not violating your privacy. But I figure now that you’re a local . . .”

  “Hey, these days I need all the love I can get.” She smiled and stuck out her hand. “We haven’t officially met. I’m Gia.”

  “Sophie. And my partner is Mariah. She’s home with our daughter tonight.”

  “The dark-haired woman, right?”

  “That’s her. How’s it going on Rosser Ranch?”

  “It’s going. I’m thinking of starting a Christmas tree farm.” May as well start spreading part of the word.

  “Really?”

  “It’s just a lot of talk right now, but I like the idea.”

  “There’s someone else in Nugget who grows them whose name escapes me at the moment. I’ll find out and let you know. It might be worth talking to him.”

  “Absolutely. So you used to be in marketing, huh?” Gia thought someone with that kind of background could come in handy.

  “Before Mariah and I moved here, yeah. Now we run this place.”

  Judging by the packed tables, the Ponderosa was successful. The food was good, but in Gia’s opinion it was the atmosphere that pulled in the crowds. Warm and casual, the Western equivalent of Cheers.

  “I’d better get back there.” She pointed to Flynn again.

  “I’ll get you that tree grower’s contact info.”

  “Thanks, Sophie.” Gia strolled toward Flynn, who, despite his attempt to cover it up, was giving her the once-over.

  “Nice dress,” he said when she reached the table and pulled out her chair.

  He was in his usual: jeans, flannel shirt, and cowboy boots. His hat hung from a hook on the wall next to a half dozen other Stetsons. Having spent much of her career around Wall Street guys, she liked Flynn better in Western attire than a suit. But the truth was she liked him in everything.

  “How was your day?” she asked.

  “Busy. Yours?”

  “Annie is amazing. Thank you for recommending her.”

  “She’s pretty great,” he said, and Gia tried to gauge his expression to determine what exactly their relationship was—or had been. Nothing. Complete poker face.

  “She thinks highly of you, that’s for sure.”

  “That’s nice to hear.” He looked down at his menu.

  “How exactly did you say you know each other?”

  “Through our families,” he said. “What’re you getting?”

  “Uh . . . a salad. How about you?”

  “Steak.” He flagged over a server. “Could we get a couple of drinks? Jack neat for me and whatever Gia wants.”

  “A glass of chardonnay,” she told the waitress.

  When she left, Flynn said, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “Uh-uh, you go first. Did they buy that I suddenly regained my memory when it came to Cleo?”

  He leaned back in his chair, inadvertently showing off the breadth of his chest and his mile-wide shoulders. His hair was damp from his shower, but he hadn’t shaved, sporting a five-o’clock shadow. And before he delivered whatever bad news there was, she had the intense urge to kiss him. She didn’t of course, but she was probably going to spend most of the evening thinking about it.

  “I doubt it,” he said. “But they pretended to. They’re not planning to give up, Gia. They think you hold the key to finding Evan.” He paused and studied her face.

  “Don’t tell me to make a deal, Flynn. Like I’ve already told you, I don’t know where Evan is. It turns out that I knew very little about the man, least of all where he would run and hide billions of dollars’ worth of stolen money.”

  Flynn held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not telling you to make a deal. I’m telling you to stay on your toes because the feds aren’t going away. My guess is that they’re trying to get a court order to track your phones and your bank accounts.”

  “That’s fine. I hope they enjoy the weekly calls to my mother in Boca Raton. They can have at my bank accounts, though I don’t know what that’ll tell them other than that I’m close to broke.”

  “How’s the day trading going?”

  “Good.” She smiled. In the last few days she’d made a lot of money. But she’d need every dime of it to pay her property taxes and get her project off the ground.

  “Be careful with that.”

  “There’s nothing illegal about what I’m doing.” She folded her arms over her chest.

  “Other than it’s felony stupid. You of all people should know what a gamble it is.”

  She certainly didn’t need him telling her how to make a living. “So the bad news is that the feds are tapping my phones and tracking my money?”

  “Probably. That’s what I would do if I were them. The worse news is, they’re getting a lot of heat to solve this case, to find the money, and pay back investors. And you’re convenient, Gia.”

  “What does Cleo have to do with it?”

  “I don’t know. That’s something they wouldn’t talk about. But again, if I had to guess, they’ve somehow linked Rufus Cleo’s murder to the Ponzi scheme. Maybe he’d figured it out and threatened to blow the whistle. But that’s just conjecture on my part. Do you know if he was an investor?”

  “I have no idea. There should be a list; can’t you get it?”

  “I can try,” Flynn said. “In the meantime, Gia, I can’t emphasize enough how important it is that you not talk to anyone about this. Not without me. And even then I don’t see any benefit of being cooperative anymore. Croce and Donovan will go through me from now on and I’m planning to tell them that you’re moving on with your life. No more interviews.”

  “Don’t you think it’ll make me look guilty if I don’t cooperate?”

  He rubbed his chin. “Nope. At some point it just becomes harassment. Now promise me that from now on you say nothing.”

  “I promise.”

  The server returned with the drinks, took their orders, and went back to the kitchen.

  “Let me ask you something, Gia. Is there a chance Laughlin will try to contact you?”

  “No way. I may not have known him the way I thought. But he certainly knows that I’m the kind of person who would immed
iately turn him over to the authorities.”

  “If he does contact you, that’s exactly what’ll we’ll do. Turn him over. But Gia, never meet him or any of his associates in person, you hear me?”

  “You think he’s even in this country?”

  “I don’t know where the hell he is. But if Cleo’s death is somehow wrapped up in this, it’s not safe. There’s also the fact that the feds will be watching your every move.”

  “I won’t. Anything else?”

  “That about covers it.” His eyes swooped over her. Gia could tell he liked her dress.

  “One of Clay’s boys came over to feed Dude as I was leaving. I don’t mind doing it, you know. Not as long as you’re providing the hay.” She smiled.

  “It’s not your job to feed my horse.”

  “We do, however, have to talk about your retainer.”

  “No worries, darlin’, we’ll get to that. Now tell me what you needed to talk to me about.”

  “Okay, but I don’t want anyone to hear.”

  The waitress reappeared with their food. Even though Gia wasn’t hungry, Flynn’s looked delicious and her salad looked boring. He saw her eyeing his plate, cut off a piece of steak, and put it on her plate.

  “It’s McCreedy beef,” he said. “Not as good as Barlow’s, but it’ll do.”

  She took a bite. The meat was fabulous. “Annie thinks I should grow alfalfa and meadow hay—and Christmas trees.”

  “Christmas trees, hmm.”

  “You don’t think I should grow Christmas trees? What do you have against Christmas?”

  “Nothing. Don’t get defensive. I just hadn’t thought of it. But, yeah, it absolutely makes sense.”

  “She says I need to start planting seedlings now, because it takes eight years for them to grow to five feet.”

  “Okay.” He was globbing sour cream on his potatoes, which made Gia’s mouth water. He cut one of the halves and put it on her plate.

  “How do we deal with your cows? I don’t want ’em eating my trees.”

 

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