Loving the Heartland

by Marjorie Jones

  “You don’t love me, Kendra. I deserve better than that. I don’t want to be like Helena. Just some woman you call in a favor to one day.”

  Kendra glanced at the ground for a moment before she raised her gaze to focus on Michelle. “What are you talking about?” She stabbed Michelle with her piercing, green eyes.

  “Don’t pretend, Kendra. It’s obvious you loved her. Maybe you still do.”

  “No. That’s not true. I mean, I thought I did, at the time, but I know different now.”

  “You had an affair with her.”

  She sighed before she answered. “Yes. I can’t deny that. But that was a long time ago.”

  Michelle searched for that hole. The one that should open out of the asphalt beneath her. Only that could prevent her from continuing the one conversation that could make her fall apart. “How long ago?”

  “A long, long time ago.”

  “How long?” Why was she doing this to herself? Why did she need to know this so badly?

  To prove that Kendra loves you, too. The whisper flew through her mind so quickly, she wasn’t certain she’d really heard it.

  “Thirteen years ago, now. We broke up after my folks were killed. We were just kids.”

  Kendra couldn’t have shocked her more than if she’d hit her with a battle-axe.

  She’d lost her lover and her parents? One right after the others? Was that why she didn’t go to Helena for help right away? “You don’t love her?”

  “Not now. And not then. No matter how much I thought so.”

  Michelle’s knees buckled and she was thankful for the strength of the bus at her back. She believed her. Kendra was telling the truth. She asked, “Are you alright?”

  Kendra’s lips curled into a sardonic grin. She released a rueful laugh and replied, “No.” Then she laughed again. “No, I’m not alright. I’m completely screwed. I don’t know how it happened or when it happened, and I sure as hell don’t know why it happened, but I love you. I fell in love with you and now, after all these years, I finally know what real love feels like.”

  Michelle’s breath caught like a broken bicycle chain somewhere between her lungs and the outside world. She forced air past the wreckage and squeaked, “Is that so terrible?”

  “Yeah. It is. Because I have nothing to offer you, Michelle. It doesn’t matter because when this is over I will have absolutely nothing left and that’s not fair to anyone. When this is all over, you’ll go home. Just like we planned.”

  

  Michelle forced herself to concentrate on her work. Dozens of emails needed her attention and the sooner she got Lenise up to speed on the process for verifying the video orders and maintaining the database, the sooner she could go home. She blinked away the sting behind her eyes and focused her attention on the screen.

  The only thing saving her now was the fact that Kendra had transformed back into the ancient, untouchable rancher she had been when they’d first met. Gone was the fervent, seductive woman who had taught her about passion and love. She spent all of her time with the herd, in the barn or wrapping up the remodel of the old house so that Brad and Lenise could move in right after the wedding.

  She cleared her throat. Business. Just think about business. “Lenise, you need to remember to log out when you’re finished working in the bins.”

  “I do logout.”

  “The system says you timed out this afternoon.”

  “That’s impossible. I haven’t logged on all day.”

  “Yes, you did. Look, it says so right here.”

  “Michelle, I swear. I didn’t touch it. Yeah, that’s my login, but I was with Brad all day. We went to visit my grandmother at the nursing home and then we worked on the house.”

  “Fine, fine. But, if you weren’t online, then who was? Sure wasn’t me.”

  Michelle was grumpy. And grouchy. She was going to become a grumpy, grouchy old maid.

  “Maybe one of the boys?”

  “They have their own passwords. Why would they use yours?”

  Michelle clicked on the first email in her inbox. Her eyes widened as she read the furious tone of the capital letters. It was from a customer from Rhode Island who had ordered a video a couple of weeks ago.

  I don’t know what kind of sick outfit you’re running over there, but you can be sure I’m going to report you to everyone I can think of. Your website advertised a free educational video about cattle ranching targeted to children. It didn’t say anything about slaughtering cows. You better be happy that I reviewed the video before showing it to my second-graders. I would have had parents beating down my door. I don’t even want to think about the nightmares most of my children would have suffered. You should be ashamed of yourselves!

  ~Marcia Langdon, Essex Elementary School

  Michelle sat, open-mouthed, staring at the computer. What was this woman talking about?

  Casey pushed open the office door with his shoulder and dumped dozens of DVD-sized parcels on the desk. “These were at the post office. They were returned to the P.O. box we set up for the website. What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know.” Michelle glared at the boxes. “Open one. I want watch it.”

  Just as the second-grade teacher from Rhode Island described, the images of slaughtered cattle and men in blood-soaked coveralls wading through ankle-deep blood and guts filled the screen.

  “How did this happen?” Michelle’s stomach landed somewhere in the region of her feet. Were all of the discs the same? Frantic, she tore into several more packages. They were all the same.

  Damage control.

  She instructed Lenise to draft a letter of apology with a statement of Kendra’s dedication to humane processing procedures and healthy products. She made a mental list of the dozens of other tasks she’d need to complete to even begin rectifying this situation. At the top of the list was the simple act of crucifying Vincent.

  How many children had seen this massacre? “I’ve got to call Vincent. I swear, Casey, he’s never made a mistake like this before. Never. The wrong file must have been loaded into the POD software.”

  “Call him.” Kendra’s deep voice left no room for argument.

  Michelle spun toward the sound. Kendra’s eyes shot green fire in her direction before landing on the computer screen again.

  “Kendra. How long have you been there?”

  “Long enough. Is this your idea of positive publicity? What was it you said before? A sense of community, something like that? I’m sure this video has gone a long way to help our little cause. Did the BLM see this shit?”

  “Don’t be an ass, Kendra,” Casey snapped. “It’s not her fault.”

  “No, Casey. Kendra’s right,” Michelle interjected. “The damage is done. And I’m ultimately responsible. I hired Vincent and I take full responsibility. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to call him from the kitchen.” A wave of nausea collided with a shortness of breath she’d never experienced before.

  Kendra had been against this idea from the beginning. More than likely Lacey had been right; the only reason she’d finally gotten on board stemmed from the fact they were sleeping together at the time. How had she allowed things to get so screwed up? If she thought for one second she had any chance of a life with Kendra after this whole ordeal was finished, she’d officially blown it. She’d be lucky if Kendra ever spoke to her again.

  Once she reached the kitchen, she took a deep breath and picked up the phone. She misdialed three times before she finally got through to Vincent’s Video Experiment. After several rings, someone answered.

  “Let me talk to Vincent. Now.”

  “Who’s this?”

  “Michelle Loving. And you are?”

  “Kevin. Michelle Loving?”

  “Yes, now where is Vincent?”

  “I have a note for you. Something about some videos that never got finished because of the accident.”

  “What? What are you talking about? What accident? And what do you mean
the videos weren’t finished? I approved the final cut weeks ago.”

  “I don’t know, lady. I just started here this week. All I know is that the owner was killed a couple of weeks ago, some conglomerate took over and that’s when I got hired. Most of the old staff walked out when the new people took over, but one of them said that if you called, I should give you the message.”

  “What did you say?” she whispered.

  “What part of that didn’t you understand, lady?”

  “Vincent? Vincent’s dead?”

  “Apparently. Now, you want the rest of the message or not?”

  “Yes. Of course I do.”

  “Call Michael at this number and he’ll fill you in. Miss Loving?”

  Michelle cleared her throat. “Yeah?”

  “I’m really sorry. I don’t mean to sound gruff or unsympathetic. I’m just swamped here, you know?”

  “Yeah. Sure.” Michelle hung up the phone and wrapped her arms around herself. How could Vincent be dead? The guy said he’d been killed? An accident? What did that mean? She took a deep breath and reached for the phone again. A few seconds later, Michael answered.

  “God, Michelle. I tried to call you, but the cops wouldn’t let me into your apartment, the new owners at Vincent’s place wouldn’t let me take any records with me, and you’re not listed. Jesus, everything is such a mess.”

  “What happened, Mike? What happened to Vin?”

  “He was hit by a car. On the strip. Almost a month ago.”

  “But how? I mean, I don’t understand. I’ve emailed with him several times in just the past two weeks. He’s been personally fulfilling video orders for the ranch.”

  “That’s impossible. We never uploaded it after that last proof you edited and approved. We sure as hell never got an order from you before he died.”

  “Well, somebody did, damn it. Every client on the list received some God-awful slaughterhouse video.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yup. That’s why I was calling Vin in the first place. To read him the riot act about it.” She laughed through building tears. “Mike. Who purchased the studio?”

  “Some corporation. Laserix Incorporated. I’ve never heard of them before. If you’ve been sending orders to Vin’s email, then somebody over there must’ve been confused and sent out the wrong information to the POD platform. The thing is, Vin never made a slaughterhouse video, not even as an undercover sting or anything.”

  “No. This goes deeper than a misunderstanding. I got replies from Vin’s email signed with his name, from his email address. This was deliberate, and if it was deliberate, then...”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know, but I have a hunch that whoever took over his company when he died, did so to sabotage our program here.”

  “Hang on, Michelle. Are suggesting that Vincent might have been killed on purpose? Like, murdered over this?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’ll call you back.” Michelle’s hand shook as she hung up the receiver.

  If Harold Mason owned Laserix Corporation then the probability that Vincent had been murdered jumped considerably. But how could she find out? Corporations could easily hide behind various fronts and conglomerates until the real owners were lost in a mountain of red tape and digital records.

  Nothing else made sense. Not that it made sense, anyway. But, nobody else had anything to gain by sending out those sick pictures to school children. Someone wanted to make the Heartland Ranch, and the entire Williams family, look like a sham of a business and worse. Michelle wouldn’t be surprised if CNN were camped out in the front yard by morning.

  She ran a hand through her hair and held her bangs in her fist at the top of her head. How could she explain all of this to Kendra? She had so much guilt over Kennedy Bastion’s death, already. Michelle not only knew what that felt like now, but she certainly didn’t want to put any more weight on Kendra’s shoulders. She’d only feel guilty about Vincent, too. She’d blame herself for dragging more innocent people into this mess.

  Michelle sure as hell did.

  One thing was for sure. Harold Mason was definitely more dangerous than she’d given him credit for, and the monster was alive, and well, and awake.

  

  Twilight shone through the windows casting the kitchen in long shadows when Kendra pushed open the swinging door. Michelle sat hunched over her laptop. Her hair fell in a tangled mass down her back and the set of her shoulders told her she’d all but given up.

  She flipped on the light, but Michelle didn’t seem to notice.

  “I’m sorry about your friend.” Kendra wanted to put her arm over Michelle’s shoulder. She didn’t.

  Michelle remained focused on the screen. “Thanks.”

  Instead of touching her, consoling her like she wanted to, Kendra handed her a cup of coffee and then sat next to her at the table. Deep bags had formed under her eyes over the past few hours. She’d been searching the Internet all day, looking for something that might link Laserix Incorporated to Harold Mason.

  Kendra glanced out the window as the world turned from gold to black.

  A chill washed over her. She looked back at Michelle. Better get used to it. She’d be cold for the rest of her life.

  Michelle’s eyes drifted closed.

  “You should call it a day.”

  “I’ll be okay in a few minutes. Just need to get my second wind.”

  “You’ve been at this for hours. First emailing all those contacts, and now looking for ghosts in the machine? You need some sleep.”

  “Really, I’m fine.”

  Kendra ached to take her into her arms. She missed feeling the comfort Michelle offered; missed offering her comfort. And now, when she needed someone to hold her, she couldn’t. It didn’t seem fair. She suspected Michelle wouldn’t welcome anything more than overtures of friendship.

  Michelle rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. “I just hope the entire support network hasn’t been unraveled. I’m sure the petition would have helped in the media.”

  “The damage is done, Michelle. I don’t see the point.”

  “The point is, we have to stop this guy. He’s not just some overbearing business jerk. He’s a murderer.”

  “I know that, and if I had my way, I’d see to it that he pays for everything. In spades. But like you said, this isn’t the old west.”

  Kendra wished it was. A part of her wanted to ride to town, six shooter strapped to her hip, and call the son-of-a-bitch out. Somehow, she figured Michelle wouldn’t see the justice in that.

  “Wait a second,” she hummed. “I think I found something.”

  “Like what?”

  “A connection. Hang on.” She paused to click a few of the tabs along the top of the screen. “Okay. Okay, right here. This is a news report about Laserix Incorporated refusing to go public last year. Several of the high-ranking execs tried to convince the owner it would work, but he fired them all and they sued. They lost.”

  “Okay, I’m with you.”

  Michelle clicked a little grey square at the bottom of the screen. “The spokesman for the executives was a man named Carlos Wilson. He’s mentioned in this article, here, as the executive director for a conglomerate of holdings called Lylewood Industries. They make several products and such, but they also dabble in pharmaceuticals and research and development. There are about twelve companies, all together. One of them is listed here.”

  She clicked on a few blue lines of text and opened another page. “What about this company, right here? Isn’t this the company that Mason has listed on the contract offer he sent over last month?”

  Kendra focused on the black, bold letters on the screen. Lifestyle and Leisure, LLC. “Yep. That’s the one.”

  Kendra scanned the page until her eyes fell on the name of another company. Buried inside the text, she found something she hadn’t seen in almost fifteen years.

  “Kendra. Are you okay? You look like you’v
e seen a ghost.”

  “... the now defunct Conner Aviation...” Kendra read aloud.

  “What?” Michelle touched her arm, regaining her attention.

  Kendra pointed to the screen. “Right there. Conner Aviation.”

  “What about it?”

  “That’s the company that supplied the charter pilot to fly my parent’s plane.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. What does Harold Mason have to do with Conner Aviation? He’s not much older than me, so I doubt he worked there; at least, not for very long before they shut down.”

  Kendra read the entire article, and then leaned back in her chair. It didn’t make any sense. Nothing in the article indicated anything other than the former Conner Aviation had once existed in the same building. But the coincidence could not, would not, be ignored. It sliced through her brain like a duck through water. As soon as the name moved from one side of her mind to the other, the wake disappeared and she was just as baffled as she’d been when she started.

  “I can’t find anything about Conner Aviation on this site. Let me do a search and see what we can find out.”

  A few minutes later, Michelle whispered. “Oh, my God. Kendra...”

  Kendra sat upright and focused on the screen where Michelle’s delicate and beautiful finger pointed. The pilot’s picture and obituary occupied the center of the page. “The pilot that killed my parents was Harold Mason’s father?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Michelle set her towel on the counter in the guest bathroom, and then turned on the water in the tub and adjusted the temperature. When it reached a level just below scalding, she flipped the lever and drew her arm back to avoid the shower spray.

  After three hours lying awake and staring at the ceiling, maybe a hot shower would help her sleep. The guest bedroom just reminded her of the fact that she’d lost Kendra forever. What had been a beautiful room filled with charming antiques and reminiscent of some luxury bed and breakfast now reminded her more of a dungeon or a prison. She’d had to get out of there.