by Tonya Muir
* * *
Henry meets us at the San Antonio International Airport and he’s exactly as Kelsey has described him: grizzly and grinning. This is the Marlboro Man after a three pack a day habit all his life, too much time in the sun without sunscreen, and only a passing acquaintance with non-flannel apparel. I like him. He wraps my partner in a bear hug, squeezing her tight enough to get a grunt out of her, before backing away and shaking my hand.
"Kelsey, you look fabulous," he enthuses, returning his attention to her. "You’ve grown up so pretty."
I can’t argue that statement so I simply nod my agreement and get a gentle nudge in the ribs.
We introduce Olsen and Conrad, who are already working on equipment and hotel accommodations so they desert us quickly to handle those. We head toward baggage claim to take care of our end.
"Your Pa would be so proud, Kelsey," Henry says as we climb onto the escalator.
I’m intrigued by this discussion since Kelsey has told me very little about her grandfather. I only know how important he was to her and that he’s no longer with us. What kind of euphemism is that anyway? Why are people so damn scared about death? And why is it considered impolite to say someone is dead? Unless, despite all our protestations, we really do believe it is the end. That would be depressing if it were true. But I don’t believe it is. I may be a lapsed Catholic, but the concept of eternity is deep within me.
Any of my previous attempts to pry information out of Kelsey about her grandfather have been met with tight lips and watery eyes. Since I hate to see her cry, I drop the topic each time. Even now, seeing Henry, she’s getting maudlin. I rub her back warmly and get a surprised if grateful smile in response. Hey, I can do sensitive. No one seems to believe me, but I can.
"How are your parents?" Henry asks. Man, he knows how to hit all the buttons. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
Kelsey brushes him off. "Same as always. Tell me about Irene and your boys."
Her distraction is a complete success and we’re well into the heart of San Antonio before Henry stops talking about his three sons (I now know their ages, occupations, marital status, and college GPA’s), and begins discussing the reason we came here.
"So I thought we could meet everyone for lunch tomorrow, including Clayton Jackson, he’s the fella who owns the ranch I was telling you about. I told the family you’re in town to visit with some friends of your Pa’s, to remember him. They don’t know about my suspicions. I figured it was best that way. Don’t want people to get all panicky. This type of stuff scares the crap out of people. As it should."
Great. Apparently Henry is a Dick Tracy wannabe.
"That’s fine." Kelsey nods, turning in the front passenger seat of the Chevy Suburban to meet my gaze. I must appear amused because she gives me a warning glare and I school my expression, looking to my right and using Jimmy as a distraction. Jims, the orange hair still standing spiky on his head because he was dumb enough to dye it again, is busy examining the console next to him where he can adjust the volume and radio station. He turns on the AC.
Henry turns it off from up front. "Wastes gas, that air conditioning does. No one needs it. Besides, it’s December, for God’s sake."
Jimmy looks at me guiltily and I can’t help but laugh. How is it we end up in such bizarre situations?
* * *
I am about to leave the rest of the crew at the affiliate station to pick up a truck and check the equipment. I can’t, with good conscience, shake Henry who was a dear friend of my Pa’s, so I agree to dinner with him and Irene. He says he will take me back by the hotel later tonight.
I find myself wanting Harper’s company but can’t think of a good enough reason to have the my director/producer come along and no one else on the crew. So Harper pulls me aside and promises to check us into the hotel. At least I’ll get to sleep with her tonight. My little psycho gives us a ready excuse to room together. Wish it gave her a ready excuse to come to dinner. But I don’t want to get Henry all upset, and we don’t have any reason to believe that he followed us here. Besides, the gun rack in the back of the Suburban serves as a deterrent. I know it scares the hell out of me.
"You’ll be okay?" she asks in that dark, worried voice.
I nod, run a hand down the front of her shirt, smoothing the buttons. I find myself constantly fascinated with her buttons, I suppose it’s because I know what’s under there, but I try not to bite them off anymore. Unless I simply can’t help myself.
"I know this is hard for you," she whispers, "and, eventually, I’ll torture the details out of you. But, for now, please know that I care."
I’m stunned into silence when I look up to meet her blue eyes. They’re sincere and warm. There are so many facets to this woman I may never understand. "I know," I finally manage to say.
"You can tell me anything; you know that, right?"
I nod again.
"So go enjoy dinner. I’ll have my cell on if you need anything. Okay?"
"Yeah. Thank you, Harper." I feel a little awkward, wanting to hug her or kiss her or something. She’s turning into a better friend than I could have imagined. I know I’m not very good at returning that sentiment. This whole friendship thing is new to me, only Erik has ever been able to squeeze it out of me before.
She always seems to understand and smiles rakishly, running a hand down my arm. "I’ll think of ways for you to express your gratitude."
"I don’t doubt you will."
"Be careful."
"Always." It’s hard to watch them pile into the truck and drive away. Finally, Henry draws my attention away with yet another story about his oldest son, Ryan. I was supposed to marry him – in Henry’s mind – so I am relieved to hear that the position has been filled in my absence. I certainly don’t need any more complications in my life right now.
* * *
"So Henry thinks this Dale Sams guy is trying to grow anthrax? And he’s collecting samples from the sick cows over at the Jackson ranch?" Harper asks, while we linger over dessert and each other, settled on the hotel’s king sized bed.
"Yeah, he thinks that maybe the guy is planning something. He says the guy always has been a little off. But it was hard to know for sure since he’s an Aggie professor and those guys like the smell of manure to begin with."
She laughs at that statement. "Ah great, another nut flake to add to our list of known and unknown nut flakes? We do seem to manage to find them, don’t we? Doesn’t this all seem a wee bit melodramatic though?" Harper inquires, offering me a strawberry and then licking the juice from her fingers. It’s amazingly provocative and is serving to distract me from the conversation. "Is Henry just looking for some excitement in his retirement days?"
"I don’t think so, Henry was never the excitable type before, but it is possible. Bio-chemical warfare is a terrifying reality today, ever since the subway gassing in Tokyo a few years ago. Anthrax is the easiest to create, transport and deliver. Henry says just about anyone with a basic understanding of microbiology and a small lab could grow it."
"It also has a vaccine." She bites my shoulder through the cotton of my blouse. Then her fingers find the buttons, freeing each slowly.
"Which no one uses. We only started vaccinating our deployable military in the last decade. Other than millworkers, veterinarians and a few other people, the general populace isn’t vaccinated. That makes anthrax a very viable weapon."
Harper nods, but is quickly losing interest in the conversation. My shirt is now on the floor, her hand is in the waistband of my jeans, tugging me closer.
"This guy, the person Henry suspects, is cooking up the wicked brew," Harper begins, actually managing to still be coherent.
I gasp when she unfastens my jeans and pulls open the fly, allowing her long fingers clear access to my silk underwear. I went out and bought a whole new set of lingerie last week. She’s a bit inspiring in that regard.
"Go on," I husk, trying to do two things at once, being the good workaholic that
I am.
She gives me a gentle push, then covers my body with hers, working me out of the remainder of my clothes. "Later," she whispers.
Thank God, I’ve completely lost interest in the conversation. Her fingers prove much more stimulating. Without further comment, I wrap my arms around her and concentrate instead on the matter at hand. So to speak.
* * *
Lying on my side, with Kels snuggled in close to me, I realize it’s the slight whimpers coming from her that have woken me. She trembling in my arms and I know she’s on the verge of another nightmare.
"Shhh, sweetheart," I whisper as I comb my fingers through her hair. "I’ve got you. You’re safe."
Pulling her closer and continuing to stroke her hair, I whisper to her. It calms her and she sleeps again before the nightmare can fully take hold of her. The trembling stops. It’s a wonderful feeling to know that the mere sound of my voice can comfort her.
I glance at the clock and see it’s four-thirty. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes to go back to sleep, but now my own mind is awake and demanding to take inventory of everything that has happened.
I turn slowly onto my back, eliciting another protest from my partner. "No," she squeaks as she grabs for me without waking.
"I’m right here, baby." I keep her close and she settles her body along my side, with her head resting on my shoulder.
As I stare at the ceiling, my mind tries to put things in order of importance.
Kelsey’s stalker really has her on edge since we discovered that he and the serial killer are one in the same. Quite reasonable, of course. I’m scared shitless for her, not that I let her know that. I have to be strong for both of us right now. Not to mention the fact she’s completely torn apart over the concept this man is killing these girls because they look like her. She blames herself, for no damn good reason. It’s not like she asked the sicko to do it. Or that she has ever encouraged his attentions. Still, she is carrying around a lot of guilt.
Bear and his buddy from the Threat Management Unit have really started putting some overtime in on this one. I can’t ever reach Bear at home anymore for progress reports. He’s either at his desk in the station, or he’s out following up leads. God only knows when or if he sleeps. I’ll never be able to repay him. No matter how many nights I let him win at poker.
Of course, our own relationship scares the hell out of us both, I think. We both want it, and we both need it, but Kels is still wound tighter than a ten-cent top sometimes. And to be honest the thought of a singular person in my life is terrifying. I have moved from person to person all my life, I don’t have the first clue as to how to be a half of a couple. I hope this is a learn-as-you-go kinda thing. And that I can get a lot of forgiveness for mistakes. I’m sure I’ll need it.
So now we’re in Texas looking into one of the most over-dramatic things I’ve ever heard in my life. Local nut flake collects anthrax spores from poor, sick cows to make biochemical weapon to use against the population. News at eleven. Yeah, right.
Okay, I’ve followed up dumber things that have led to great stories. We might get lucky. If one can consider potential biochemical devastation lucky. God how the news industry warps you.
To top it all off, to make this little jaunt even worse for Kels, it’s a trip home that is tearing her heart out. She was nearly in tears when she got back to me tonight. I think a little too much reminiscing went on about Pa at dinner.
So I distracted her with the only two things I knew would work. The story first and me second. She seemed to like the second a lot better. Perhaps her priorities are shifting a little. I smile as I place a soft kiss to the top of her head and she moves closer to me.
Could life get any more interesting? Looking down at the woman sleeping in my arms, I’m betting good money that the answer is ‘yes.’ I have the feeling that she’ll be able to keep my life interesting as long as she can put up with me.
* * *
I glance over at Harper who is sitting a table away from us with Jims and Conrad. I wish she were here with me. I take a sip of my tea and return my concentration to the table and the four men I’m having lunch with.
There’s Henry, of course, my Pa’s best friend and like a second grandfather to me. Then there’s Clayton Jackson, the rancher whose farm had the infected cows, all of which have now been put down, their carcasses burned. Next to him is Andy George, who worked with Pa and Henry when they were at the DoD and, finally, Travis McCall, one of my Pa’s friends from so long ago. These four men are all concerned about the possibility of the virus infecting their cattle. Henry told them I might do a story so that they might get some help from the government to prevent any other livestock from getting sick.
"So, Kels, you have no idea how proud we are of you," Travis offers, covering my hand with his callused one. "Your Pa would simply be busting all the buttons right off his vest."
"Thanks. I like to think he’d be pleased."
"Pleased isn’t the word for it, little girl." Henry raises his glass to me. "We never could get a word in edgewise when he got on the subject of his Little Filly."
Oh God, I’m so glad Harper wasn’t here to hear that. The last thing I need is for her to know one of my Pa’s old nicknames for me.
I smile at Henry and just shake my head. "Well, like I said, Pa always was one of the best bullshitters in the business."
"Oh, not when it came to you, sweetheart. How many time do I have to tell you that before you’ll believe me?"
"I believe you. Let’s just wait until you see me in action first, okay?" I’m not normally this humble, but these men remind me of where I came from. And how much I owe to my Pa. He believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. I turn my attention to Clayton Jackson. "Mr. Jackson…."
He throws his hand up. "Clay."
I nod. "Clay. You think you’ll be able to arrange a meeting for me with Professor Sams?"
"Oh yeah, no doubt. He’s coming by my place tomorrow to have another look at my remaining herd."
"All right then. The first thing I’ll need is an interview with him as the local expert. Then we’ll shoot a few interviews with you gentlemen. Will you be available tomorrow?" They all agree, after a few protestations about their appearance on camera. It’s cute to see them so concerned about looking handsome for the lens.
So now we have to make contact with Professor Sams tomorrow and feel him out - so to speak - to see if Henry’s concerns are warranted.
One by one they say their good-byes, leaving Henry and I alone at the table. He takes a deep breath and I can tell he’s about to start beating the bushes.
"Out with it, Henry," I tease, sipping my iced tea.
He pulls a small box from his jacket pocket as he stands to go. "I thought you might want this. I saved it for you, hoping you’d come back for it, but you never returned home after your Pa died."
He lays the box in front of me, kissing the top of my head before turning to leave.
I look at the box. My hands tremble when I take the ribbon in my fingers and pull it apart. Lifting the lid, I can’t stop the gasp that leaves my chest before the tears begin to fall. I couldn’t stop these tears if I wanted to.
"Oh God!" I lift my Pa’s antique, gold pocket watch out of the box. Holding it gingerly in the palm of my hand, I run the tips of my fingers over the intricate carvings on the cover. I’m afraid if I touch it too much, it will disappear. I thought this was gone for good, sold by my parents along with everything else after Pa died. They "liquidated his assets" right after they buried his body.
I push the button at the top and the cover pops open revealing the face. It’s still running. My God, this watch must be close to a hundred and fifty years old and it still works. Time still goes on, despite the fact that Pa isn’t here anymore.
I notice movement out of the corner of my eye and turn to find Harper pulling up a seat next to me. Her hand comes to rest on my neck, massaging gently. "You okay, Little Roo?" Her voice is full of concern
. I realize she must have heard me break down. I can’t speak right now so I just show her the watch.
"It’s beautiful."
I nod, sniffing and trying to find my voice. "It belonged to Pa. I used to play with it as a little girl. I thought my parents sold it. I didn’t know Henry had it." I wipe the tears away before I try to speak again. "There’s someplace I need to go before we leave."
"Anywhere you want."
* * *
After dropping Jims and Conrad at the station so they can prep for our interviews tomorrow, Harper and I head for my requested destination. She drives quietly. I continue to hold Pa’s watch and run my thumb over it, trying to connect with him once again. "Turn left up here."
She does so without a word. I look at her and realize how lucky I am. God, I hope I can hold onto her.
"Stop." I glance out over the tombstones and spot Ma and Pa’s right away. Turning back to Harper, she gives me a little smile. "Come with me?" I ask.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. They’re the only family I have to share with you."
She nods mutely and climbs out of the car.
As we walk across the manicured grass, I loop my arm through hers to get as close as I can. She interlaces her fingers with mine. When we get to Pa’s headstone, she tries to let go but I won’t let her. I need her strength. I kneel down, taking her with me.
"Hi, Pa," I begin, rearranging a few flowers that decorate the stone. I’ve always made sure that fresh flowers are delivered here every week. "I miss you so much. I’m sorry I haven’t been here before. I just couldn’t come before now." I take a deep breath, trying to calm my heart. "Henry gave me your watch today. I promise to take very good care of it. I know it’s been in the family a long time."
Harper settles down on the grass beside me, getting comfortable, willing to let me take as much time as I want here.
I glance over to my partner. "There’s someone I want you to meet. Pa, this is Harper." I settle down next to her, and she drapes her arm around my shoulders. "We work together."