Sara started her car and lowered the window. “Do you want us to keep an eye on you while you’re down in the Caribbean?”
Diane smiled. “I’ll have people with me at all times. I’ll be fine. But thanks for the offer.”
“Have a good trip.” Sara patted the briefcase on the seat beside her. “If our cryptographers make something of these numbers, Dr. Lee could be providing us with testimony from the grave.”
μ CHAPTER THIRTY TWO μ
Olimpia showed Diane to the living room. “You will have some privacy in here. Come to the side patio when you have finished your call.” She headed to the kitchen to give lunch instructions to the maid.
Diane took in the dramatic sea view through the north-facing wall of windows while she tapped in the phone number.
“Hello.” It was Maxine’s voice on the other end of the line.
“Hi. I’ve arrived safely. I’m at Olimpia’s house. How is everything there? Are the animals getting along okay?”
“Huck and Jackson are having a great time. But I’m afraid my cat is planning to live behind the sofa for the duration of Huck’s stay.”
“I’ll have to bring back something to make it up to her. Did I tell you that Huck’s heartworm preventative is due next week?”
“Yes, you told me. He’s fine. All the animals are fine—including the chimps. Thanks again for hiring the guards…Oh, and before I forget to tell you, Bellfort is going to Australia—deep sea fishing. He’ll probably be gone for awhile. I’ll have a lot of time to check out his computer then.”
“Good.”
“Another thing: I finally got into Doreen’s computer. When you were driving back from Everly’s ranch that day, you asked me to check for any reimbursements for trips to Asia in December of last year? Well, Everly left Houston for Taipei on December 3rd and returned from Taipei on December 9th.
Diane remained silent.
“Diane? Can you hear me?”
“Yes… yes I hear you fine.”
“Do those flight times give you clues to anything?”
“I’m not sure. But thanks for your trouble.”
“No trouble, partner. I was worried about you. I tried to reach you at the airport before you left. But your phone was already turned off. Amelia said that you were in danger and that you shouldn’t leave for the trip. But apparently your flight went okay. Amelia gets it wrong sometimes. She says it’s because of global warming; Gaia is out of phase with the universe… I’m so glad you’re safe.”
“Thanks for your concern. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
“Have a great meeting. And bring back a lot of good plants from your jungle trek.”
Diane hung up the phone and stared out the window. Fifty feet from the house, white spumes of the Caribbean shot up like geysers just beyond the cliff’s edge. But all she saw before her was the headline: “Murder Suspected in American Scientist’s Fall.”
Harry Lee’s body was discovered in Hong Kong on December 7th. Leonard Everly was in Asia at that time. A coincidence?
Olimpia reappeared wearing an apron over her khaki slacks. “Come, lunch is served.”
Unnerved by Maxine’s information, Diane followed Olimpia, vowing to put the BRI labyrinth out of her mind, and hopefully out of her life. Two weeks after her return to the states, she had a job interview scheduled on a leafy campus in Maine—a perfect spot for healing. She’d leave the cloak and dagger to the Lab Rats and their friends. They were better equipped to find Peruvase than she was anyway.
But… could she just walk away from them? When she was sworn in to the Lab Rat organization, she had vowed to share anything that might be helpful to their many causes.
She stopped in her tracks and shouted to Olimpia who had moved on: “I’m sorry; I just remembered I have one more phone call to make. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.” She went to her purse and dug out Sara Solomon’s business card.
Long after the dishes were cleared away, Diane and Olimpia remained outside discussing the changes in science during their twenty-six year acquaintance. When dusk set in, they agreed upon a light supper and an early bedtime to rest up for the conference that was to start the next day.
Lying in bed, glancing around the darkened room at the graceful shapes of antique furniture and listening to the rhythmic roar of the sea, Diane thought about her day.
Olimpia had picked her up at the airport in an open four-wheel-drive vehicle. Her jaw-length, windblown hair had grown more salt than pepper since their last meeting.
The view along the road to the house was hardly the palm-laden Caribbean paradise Diane had envisioned. Rather, she beheld a parched landscape covered with cacti, scrub foliage, boulders eroded into bizarre shapes by the trade winds and lots of spooky divi divi trees. She imagined off-road travel to be impossible except by camel or, better yet, a Mars rover.
Olimpia’s island home was about five thousand square feet of soaring ceilings, marble floors and massive furniture. It was constructed of stone, heavy wood and thick tinted glass to withstand the constant assault of the sun and winds.
There was no way Olimpia could afford all that on her university salary. It was probably left to her by a well-to-do relative. Diane had always sensed Olimpia’s family was wealthy, maybe because she once mentioned an uncle with a yacht. At any rate, the house was not the “cottage,” Olimpia had mentioned over the years.
Now, the conference had brought Diane here. And she was glad. But it occurred to her that for all the years she had known Professor Olimpia Garza professionally, she knew very little about who Olimpia actually was.
The three-day Ethnobotany Conference was held at the Radisson Aruba Resort and Casino on the protected side of the island. It was well-attended by researchers and pharmaceutical company representatives from all over the world.
Diane’s paper: Contracts with the Americas drew mixed reactions. A heated discussion ensued: Some scientists and pharmaceutical companies felt they should be free to tramp about the jungles of the world, harvesting possible curative plants without any formal agreements with the countries or indigenous tribes involved.
But the conference was declared a success on the last night with gambling, dancing and the imbibing of a fruity concoction that many swore would provide the cure for just about anything.
Midnight found Diane and Olimpia propped up on stools at Olimpia’s kitchen island, enjoying brownies and milk. Diane had been delivering an animated recap of the convention when she realized Olimpia wasn’t responding.
“What’s wrong?”
Olimpia was absently-mindedly peeling the tiny pedigree labels from green apples piled in a colorful pottery bowl. “I have a confession to make,” she said in a weary voice.
Attempting to lighten the mood, Diane looked at her brownie and said, “Don’t tell me there’s marijuana in these things—and I thought my elation came from being far away from Texas.”
Olimpia didn’t smile. “I was responsible for Bayside Research hiring you and Vincent… Gabriel Carrera found me at the university and tried to recruit me for BRI. The program he laid out sounded good, but I did not want to move to the States. So, I gave him your name.
Olimpia propped her elbows on the countertop and rested her forehead on her hands. “Since Vincent disappeared, I have been tormented… I meddled in your life. If you had not moved to Texas, your husband would still be alive.”
Diane slid off her stool and patted Olimpia’s shoulder consolingly. “You may have been the reason we got the job offers, but we made the decision to go there. And Vincent went sailing to fulfill a lifelong dream. You can’t blame yourself for our choices.”