Stealing Luca's Heart (3 page)

“Just pull it up,” Lynn demanded, gesturing toward her computer bag.

She relented and pulled out her laptop. While they waited for the computer to boot up, she noticed her friends looking at the family photo taped below her keyboard. It was taken at Tara’s high school graduation party in the backyard. Her mom wore a solid sky blue suit which drew out the depth of her blue eyes. Her wavy gray-blonde hair stopped below her ears, exposing delicate pearl earrings. Her friends always told her they thought her dad was handsome, even for a man his age. She thought so too. He still had a great head of hair, warm hazel eyes, and was tall and trim. They made a handsome couple.

But she thought her dad’s best feature was his warm smile. She hadn’t told her friends, but he had confided to her recently that he was ready to move on, maybe even date a little. It was comforting to see him smiling more lately and feeling like his old self.

She felt Kim rub her shoulders, bringing her back to the music and noise of the bar. “This is what our life has become. Friday night Googling.” She connected to the bar’s Wi-Fi and then pulled out her datebook from the computer bag. She found the information her dad had given her in case she needed to reach him. January 3–12, Cook’s View Station, George and Simone Tetari.

“Well, let’s look up Cook’s View Station and see what we’ve got,” Lynn suggested, peering over her shoulder.

The Google search produced quite a few links. She clicked on the official website of the farm and scrolled down.

There were stock pictures of New Zealand and of the farm, which was located in the bottom third of the country’s South Island. The website had links to the farm’s international trading partners, sustainability examples, water and energy use, and products. She could see why her dad would know these people, right up his alley. On the left side of the Tetari farm site, she could find out all kinds of farm facts, tourism, and historical information.

Lynn pointed to the screen. “Click on About Us.”

She clicked and a series of photos of the family popped up. The first one was in black and white, showing a man and woman with two little boys standing in front of a summer country landscape with mountains in the background. The photo caption read
Thomas and Raewyn Tetari Take Over Operations of Cook’s View Station, October 1928. Shown Here With Their Two Children Albert (Age 5) and Victoria (Age 2).

The next picture was in color and read
Lake Wanaka
. Even though the picture was dated, it was obvious how stunning the area was. The lake mirrored the snowcapped mountains above. Ally couldn’t imagine waking up every morning to such an amazing view.

The last picture on the page caught her attention. It was dated 2012 and was a generational photo with the names listed below. There was the patriarch Albert with wife, Mary, in the front center on chairs. Seated next to Albert’s right were Wayne Hill and Ginny Tetari-Hill, with daughters Gracie and Gabi standing behind. Their daughters were fair-haired and looked to be in their twenties.

“Jeez, this family looks like the kiwi Kennedys,” Kim commented.

To Mary’s left were George and Simone Tetari, looking to be slightly older than Wayne and Ginny, with sons Luca, Phillip, and Sean standing behind their cousins. “So this is Albert’s side of the family,” she concluded.

Her eyes stopped on Luca. “Wow,” she muttered.

“Yeah, Tara wasn’t joking,” Kim added, squinting at the screen for a better view. “Look at that one,” she said, pointing to Phillip.

Phillip was nice-looking, tall, with a strong build and a wavy blond cap of sun-bleached hair. Sean was trim, shorter than Phillip, with his blond hair in a buzz cut. But once her eyes settled on Luca, they stayed there.

Luca was a bit taller than Phillip. She guessed he was pushing thirty, with broad shoulders and defined muscles reminding her of a professional athlete. Luca was the standout from his dad’s gene pool, sharing his black hair. He was on the end of the row, so she could clearly make out his impressive frame underneath his khaki shorts and white T-shirt. His hair was short with spiked bangs. Even though the photo was taken from a distance, she was drawn to his devilish smile. He seemed to have an inside joke with the photographer.

Now intrigued, she opened another search window and put Luca Tetari in parentheses to see what this guy’s story was. She was so absorbed in her search, she barely noticed her friends exchanging secret smiles, clearly enjoying her sudden distraction.

The search on Luca produced hundreds of links. The first one she chose was from the
New Zealand Herald
dated earlier in the year. It was on the front page of the sports section and read:

New Zealand’s All Blacks captain, Luca Tetari, announced today that he’s considering retirement from the sport of rugby after this coming season. The news has disappointed rugby fans worldwide. He has said in the past that he wants to focus on his international business ventures along with his family farm in the South Island. He was recently voted one of the most eligible bachelors in the southern hemisphere. Teammate Liam Stuart said, “Now Tetari will be able to take advantage of that title since he won’t be wasting time with his mates on the field.”

“Oh, wow, he’s a professional athlete!” Lynn cried.

Along with the story there was a photo of Luca carrying the ball during an All Blacks game. She was impressed at the image of his powerful legs and arms, plus the fierce determination on his face as he pushed his head and right shoulder down, breaking through the line.

She typed in “All Blacks” and clicked on the official website and found Luca under current players. His stats read: 28 years old, 1.9 meters, and 95 kilograms. He’d been with the team since he was nineteen. His earlier pictures showed him with a black mane of hair that girls would kill for, piercing green eyes, and a smile that could charm you into giving him the keys to your car.

“I’m sure he’s an asshole,” she reasoned.

“Who cares,” Lynn added. “He makes Todd Klem look like a high school boy. This Luca is so hot, Ally.”

She took out her phone and converted his stats from metric. “So the rugby player is roughly six feet two and two hundred ten pounds,” she announced.

Kim refilled their glasses. “I think I should watch more rugby.”

Ally continued reading. Other information under his name included that he was voted the team captain. The captain leads the team in the pre-game Haka.

She looked up at her friends. “What the hell’s a Haka?” They both shook their heads.

“Let’s look it up on You Tube,” Lynn offered.

“Hey, I’ve seen that guy!” A loud voice announced from the booth behind them. All three women turned to see a big guy—size XXL big—who had been standing at the booth behind them and was now staring at the computer screen. “He’s a big time rugby player. I play rugby,” he explained while they stared at him.

She nodded politely. Suddenly, her phone started ringing. “This should be Dad.” But when she checked the caller ID, it was a private caller. She answered it anyway.

“Hello?”

“Is this Ally Edwards?” a woman’s voice asked sharply.

“Yes?” This was probably a telemarketing call.

“Ally, this is Saren Wescott from Governor Jacobs’ office.”

It took her a second to place the name. Saren must be the nice woman she met at a dinner with her dad. “Oh, hi, Saren.” she replied, trying to sound friendlier. “Now I recognize your lovely British voice. Didn’t we meet last summer at the fundraiser for—”

“I’m sorry, Ally, but that needs to wait. I need to meet with you straight away if you’re available.”

“Who is it?” Kim whispered.

She waved her off. She was having a hard enough time hearing the woman through the bar noise. “I’m sorry, you want to meet when?”

“Ally, you’re aware your father went to New Zealand for the energy conference, but he’s also doing some research on behalf of Governor Jacobs. The Governor asked me to brief you personally on a
situation
. I’ve just arrived from Des Moines to speak to you.”

“What? You’re coming where? Should I meet you?” She felt her heart beating faster. What was going on?

“Actually, Ally, I am here.”

She swore she heard the voice coming from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder in time to see the governor’s top aide sidestepping around XXL.

Saren introduced herself to Ally’s friends. Kim and Lynn took the hint and stood up, making the excuse of looking for Todd. Saren placed her black leather briefcase on the table and sat across from her.

Saren was in her mid-fifties, attractive with her pecan-colored hair pulled back in an elegant clip. The woman was sharply dressed in black slacks and a tan turtleneck. She had wondered at one point last summer if there was something going on between her dad and Saren. They had seemed very friendly at the fund-raiser they all attended. For her dad’s sake, she hoped there was. Tonight, though, Saren was all business.

“What’s this all about?” She closed her laptop and slid it back into her bag.

Saren shifted her gaze from the table to XXL and then leaned in. “Would you mind if we talked about this in my car? We’ll have a bit more privacy.”

She nodded slowly, wondering what the hell was going on. She worked on calming her nerves while zipping up her bag and collecting her coat and gloves.

“Good,” Saren said. “My driver is waiting outside.”

She followed Saren through the bar and found Kim before leaving. She wished her luck with her date, saying she’d call to explain later.

Ally walked outside and saw the black sedan. The door was open, and Saren was motioning for her to join her in the backseat.

Once inside, she turned to Saren, “My car—”

“Will be taken care of.”

“What’s going on? How did you find me?”

“You’re a creature of habit, Ally. We simply made a few calls.”

Looking past Saren out the car window, she saw they were traveling over the Iowa River, away from campus.

“Where are we going?”

“To your house.” Saren was pulling off her leather gloves and then turned to face her. “You’re aware that your father is in New Zealand, in part, at the request of Governor Jacobs?”

She nodded slowly.

Saren took a long, deep breath, put a hand on her arm, and said gently, “We don’t have all the details yet, but your father has been shot.”

Chapter 3

London, England

Saturday, January 5, 2013 11 a.m.

Graham McMann scanned the massive white structures littering the bluffs of this stretch of English countryside. He could see the English Channel in the distance to his left. He tried recalling the exact number of wind turbines his company built out here. It had to be around fifty, as this was a fairly modest operation, at least by his standards.

He rubbed his hands together for warmth and then raked back his salt-and-pepper hair out of his face.
Damn, this January weather was a pisser.
Even in this weather he still never tired of watching the enormous rotating blades churning out clean energy and massive profits simultaneously.

One had to be a fool, of course, not to understand all the benefits of having as many wind turbines on the planet as possible. He tried unsuccessfully to focus on the low, electric hum of megawatts and mega dollars coming from inside the turbine next to him. The buzzing was only a slight distraction from the predictable whining coming from the ten fools huddled in a herd behind him.

“Graham, what about our cattle?” asked John Decker, turning from the farmer’s co-op group to face Graham. “There’s a concern the noise from the turbines is going to bother them.” Graham silently wished he’d remembered to bring his leather coat for this hilltop excursion. He jammed his hands into his pockets. The morning temperature was dropping, and his black fleece turtleneck wasn’t much help against the cool winds blowing in from offshore. He’d assumed that these men would come to their senses a little quicker than this, especially with John Decker in charge. They’d been on this inspection tour mucking about for two hours.

Trying to keep his voice even, Graham nodded toward the cattle scattered out in the fields, peacefully eating grass. “I don’t know, John. The cattle don’t seem to mind.” He turned to face John, aiming a dark stare in his direction. Rattled, John quickly turned back to the group of farmers.

He was confident that John knew it was time for him to deliver. Facing back toward the cows, Graham shook his head. One would hope that if you were about to receive thirty grand per turbine per year, not to mention the shared profits when they sold the power to the plants, that would be enough reason to not give a rat’s ass what the hell the cows were
thinking.

Convincing John to step up as the spokesman for the Northwestern Cooperative was the easy part. Graham knew this area was ripe with wind-turbine potential. It wasn’t an accident when he and John met at a local pub a few months back.

John had joined the local co-op when he inherited the three thousand-acre farm five years ago. The farm had been bringing in modest profits. But it wasn’t enough in relation to the amount of capital required to modernize equipment and compete against the corporate farms. Joining the co-op allowed for shared marketing and gave farmers a regional voice when dealing with the dairy plants. At the present, John’s focus was on increasing profits and marketing. Graham knew that made him receptive to the idea of leasing his land for wind turbines. John also had a wife and three kids in private school.

One of his personal priorities was to gather as much information as possible on his potential business partners. There were men on his payroll, outside of Eurostar Energy, specifically for this purpose. The amount of money involved in these deals demanded it. There was always an angle or opportunity in every deal. It was Graham’s job to deal with individual situations, foresee objections, and exploit weaknesses. No deal had been too big a challenge. In most cases a man’s weakness was money and easily solved. Other times, more creative measures were necessary. Unfortunately, elimination of the threat was always on the table. But luckily for John, his was a simple matter of greed.