Gerrie Nelson - Lab Notes

Diane patted Maxine’s hand. “I’ll make sure they’re safe,” she said firmly.

“Yes!” Maxine shouted, fist in the air. “I knew we’d become friends after Vincent told me and David about how you rescued the research puppy from the lab when you were a graduate student.”

Diane’s voice went weak. “He told you about that?”

Maxine smiled and nodded. “He was proud of you for it.”

Diane blinked back her memories, then said: “Do you like David?”

“What’s not to like? Handsome. Funny. Animal advocate.”

Diane forced a smile and nodded.

Maxine extended her little finger toward Diane. “A pledge to our partnership.”

Without hesitation, Diane raised her little finger. “To our partnership.”

They locked pinkies

It was a beautiful day for a road trip. Diane felt her tensions lifting as she drove down Texas Route 35 past coastal bays and sleepy hamlets. Between towns, rows of corn and millet fanned by, reaching toward a vanishing point on the distant horizon. She had never been on a ranch before and was looking forward to the visit.

On the telephone, Leonard Everly had sounded like a kindly gentleman, insisting that she call him by his first name. She had told him she found his Ridgeback website and she gave him her maiden name. Many professionals went by their maiden names, so she felt it wouldn’t be a problem if she decided to level with him about her identity. But that wasn’t going to happen unless he gave off extremely positive vibes. Maybe she should have brought Maxine’s psychic along.

For Maxine’s part in the intrigue, she had remained true to her crossed pinky pledge and invited Doreen from bookkeeping to lunch where she inquired about Doreen’s Ridgeback, then shamelessly picked her brains regarding Leonard Everly.

Doreen reported that, other than a tantrum she once witnessed (from outside Bellfort’s office door), Dr. Everly was a very nice man who was a dog breeder, a gentleman rancher and a semi-retired scientist. For his consulting services, BRI paid him a monthly stipend of ten thousand dollars. And yes, Doreen thought he might sometimes do some marketing for BRI. Why did Doreen think that? Because she had reimbursed him for airfare. To where? Moscow, Taipei, Seville, and frequent trips to Düsseldorf came to mind.

Diane didn’t know what more she expected to discover from Everly. But she felt it was worth a leisurely drive down the coast to try and ferret out any connection between Peruvase , Leonard Everly’s name in Vincent’s notes, and Everly’s continued involvement with BRI.

Everly had been to Taipei. Could Bellfort have been telling the truth about Peruvase being sold to a company in Taiwan? Maybe Tung Chen’s spies overlooked it.

If Everly was indeed the catalyst for any of BRI’s intellectual property sales, his 10K per month income was laughable. Despite the fact that Peruvase was sold prematurely, she and Vincent had become what she considered wealthy, even after the university and BRI took their percentages. It seemed Raymond Bellfort was exploiting poor Leonard.

Following Everly’s directions, Diane drove through the town of Blessing, little more than a church and a convenience store with a gas station. She had seen people live with a lot less, but in the jungle villages they didn’t have to shop for boots or tractor tires and they never had the urge for pralines n’ cream or a Big Mac.

Diane followed the railroad tracks on her right for several miles until she came to the crossing marked with day-glo orange antlers—the rancher’s answer to pink lawn flamingos, she guessed. There were no warning lights at the crossing; she stopped, looked and listened. The tracks were clear to eternity in both directions.

She bumped across them onto a gravel road on the other side. Ahead stood thick wooden crosspieces branded with the name “Dr. Leo’s Serengeti Ranch.” She was in the right place.

The Suburban no sooner thrummed across the metal cattle guard when Diane spotted the “possible obstacles” Dr. Everly had mentioned.

A herd of black cattle had gathered for a tête-à-tête on the road ahead. “Don’t drive off-road to get around them,” Everly had warned. “There are rocks and ditches that’ll mess up your tires and your shocks. Just slow to a crawl. They’ll move out of your way,” he assured her.

Grateful for bringing Vincent’s SUV, Diane slowly approached the herd. And sure enough, the black sea parted as the animals ambled to both sides of the road to let her pass. They had been through this drill before.

She inched along while curious black noses smudged the powdering of dust along the SUV’s sides. Looking down into the pool of large brown eyes, she felt the sudden urge to become a vegetarian.

Once past the herd, Diane stepped down on the accelerator. Stones pelted the SUV’s chassis as she headed for the buildings on the horizon. The road plowed through wide-open land scattered with scrub grass and mesquite bushes and lots of oil pumps. In ten minutes she approached a white-pillared mansion that presided over an oasis of green grass and enormous shade trees. The Ponderosa it was not.

Diane left the Suburban parked beside a golf cart and walked around the circular drive toward the house. She took a gulp of still, hot air. She was committed.

A tall, slender man wearing sharply creased jeans, light denim shirt and a white cowboy hat stepped sideways down the front porch stairs. Diane felt like a greenhorn in her flowered blouse, black slacks and espadrilles.

They met halfway up the drive. “Hello. You must be Diane McKee. I’m Leonard Everly.”

She knew he was in his mid sixties, but he wore his years lightly. He had the dignified manner befitting a scientist turned gentleman rancher.

Leonard’s smile seemed genuine enough. It extended all the way up to the tan creases beside his reflective sunglasses. But Diane hated it when she couldn’t see a person’s eyes. Maybe that was the cause of her urge to draw back when he offered his bear paw of a hand.

As if on cue, a chorus of barks and yips arose from somewhere beyond the house. Everly inclined his head toward the commotion. “They’re looking forward to meeting you.” He pointed to the golf cart. “Ride or walk?” Diane chose to walk; she had been driving for almost three hours. Besides it gave her more time with Leonard.

As they strolled around the side of the house and out toward the pens, Everly told her about the Ridgeback breed. He explained that they were not barkers by nature, but they were quite intuitive. They knew she might be taking one of them home with her.

They arrived at the pens and watched the wiggling tan bodies with their bristly backs, enormous feet and worried brows, and Diane fell in love. But poor Huck was having a hard enough time getting her attention at home without added competition. There was no room for a puppy in her disaster of a life.

Fortunately, as of that morning, all the males were spoken for, giving Diane an easy out. Leonard pointed to a pregnant female nicknamed Phoenix in the next pen. Diane said she’d wait for a male from her litter.

After playing with the puppies for as long as she could bear without taking the whole litter home, Diane accepted Everly’s offer of iced tea.

During the entire seven-minute walk to the front porch, he delivered a proud accounting of his Ridgebacks’ ribbons. Diane became certain the trip was going to be a dry haul.

Leonard went inside and Diane settled onto the porch swing to one side of the stairs. She slowly took in the surroundings. Except for the occasional distant cattle lowing or a horsefly buzzing by, there wasn’t a sound. And other than the distant jack pumps, nothing moved out there. It was a bit creepy.