PART FOUR
"See Max...I told you she could talk," Bud grinned and we all laughed. "Don't you love her accent? Not the way I thought someone from Kentucky would sound."
"Isn't that where Jeff Wigand is from?" Maximus questioned, still gently holding my hand. Inwardly I was ecstatic. What was it about these guys and handholding? Not that I was complaining....
"Yeah...Tina's hometown: Louisville."
"They made part of the movie there," I added. "'The Insider' I mean. I actually caught a glimpse of RC when they were shooting one scene."
"That close to greatness," Bud quipped, and he finally let go my arms. He probably figured I wouldn't collapse now that my nerves were better, but he still stayed close, I guess in case things changed.
"But yes, Bud, Miss Stewart has a charming accent." He looked back at me, those brilliant eyes burning into my soul...and he flashed THAT smile at me. I didn't tremble, but I knew he saw me return his reaction by smiling back. "A very charming accent."
"Thank you, General," I replied. "I think most people believe that Kentuckians have these heavy Southern accents, but that's not always the case. The woman who played Wigand's wife in the movie...she drove me nuts. She sounded like she was from Georgia or Mississippi -- very deep South."
I heard John speak up. "I didn't *think* she sounded right. I couldn't remember any citizens I met sounding that way."
I looked at the sheriff, almost finding myself becoming lost in his big baby blues as well. It was a good thing Bud *was* still nearby. "Oh my God...You've been to Louisville?"
"Six, seven years ago...Yeah, seven. Me and a few others from our area came down to your Southern Police Institute at...the University of Louisville?..." I nodded. "...for a month. Two weeks of Homicide Investigation; two weeks of basic crime scene investigation, interviewing and interrogation, surveillance, and other things. Great school. Probably the best I've ever been to."
"I know. I was at S.P.I. about ten years ago. I had two weeks of Homicide Investigation. Met cops, detectives and coroners from as far off as...well, Maine and even Alaska." We almost began to study each other again, just as when we had first met, and I felt a tingle pass through my most private regions. "What a small world."
"It is, isn't it?" Biebe replied, and he smiled softly. "Sorry I was about three years off or we might have met." I nodded.
As Maximus let go my hand, he gestured to me. "I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with Kentucky. You'll have to tell me more about it...Oh Bud...why don't you get Miss Stewart a chair? She may be tired of standing. Forgive our manners."
"Aw hell, where's my head tonight? Sorry, honey. Be back in a sec."
"No, it's okay. No apology's necessary. I don't mind standing a bit; I'm used to it from work. Sometimes I sit too much anyway."
I noticed that John Biebe had stood again. "Wait a minute, Bud. I don't know what *I* was thinking either, Max. Miss Stewart...uh, Tina...why don't you take my seat over here in the booth?" He moved out of the way, and placing a hand lightly on one wrist, politely guided me to where he had been. "And I can sit on the other side with Max. That'll save Tina from watching a tennis game while she's talking to us. Bud, let's see, you need a chair for yourself." All three men remained standing until I was seated, then Maximus and John relaxed again. Bud was shaking his head.
"Nah, not for me right now. I'm heading back over to the bar. Just wanted to make sure Tina met the two of you. I promised I'd introduce her around, and...well, she was eager to meet both of you."
I felt my cheeks burn a little as my new companions looked at me. Fortunately, they did not smile simultaneously or I *would* have needed Bud's assistance when I fainted.
"Well," Biebe commented, "we're happy to meet *her*, Bud."
"Indeed, Bud. Thank you for bringing her over."
"My pleasure, guys. Oh hey, before I forget then Liz'll kill me, she wanted me to see if you all need anything to eat or drink. John, she wasn't happy about you fixing you and Max's stuff the other day," Bud teased.
Biebe laughed, shaking his head. "Liz and A.J. were busy. Wasn't any need for me to bother them when it was just a couple of sandwiches and some drinks. Seemed silly."
"Well, she said you're teaching Max here a bad lesson. If you need something,...well, Liz says we're all family. Don't hesitate to ask. Clear Sheriff Biebe?"
"Clear," John answered, grinning. I tried not to gaze too deeply at his smile. It was bad enough (so to speak) that I had these two drop dead gorgeous, extraordinary men sitting across from me (as well as the handsome one standing to my right), let alone concentrating intensely on one in particular. I would never get through this if I did.
"Max," Bud continued, still in a joshing mood, "don't let this clown lead you astray. You're still new so we need to keep you straight."
Now it was Maximus' turn to beam as he laughed. "Understood, Officer White." My heart skipped several beats. I could not believe my luck. When I woke up that Friday morning, I never had a clue my day would develop this way.
"Okay guys -- do you all want anything or not?"
The two men thought a moment, then the Spaniard replied, "I don't know about a drink but that sandwich John fixed us the other evening -- what was it called again, John?"
"Oh, the club sandwich. That's my specialty."
"Well ask Liz if it would be too much trouble to prepare one of those."
"Club sandwich," Bud repeated. "Got it. How about you Sheriff?"
"Same here -- oh put both on whole wheat...And have them add some potato skins and mozzarella sticks, too."
"Yeah, those were great tonight," Bud commented. "Tina and I had some earlier. Honey," he was looking at me, "do you want anything yourself? I don't want you to feel left out. How about a drink at least; small order of wings, or something?"
"Bud, I'm not really hungry right now, but...I'd like my usual drink."
The cop winked. "Champagne mimosa it is, Miss. See how well I know you?"
I smiled. "How 'bout you boys?"
"Coors Light -- off the tap," John told him, but Maximus still appeared puzzled. That was when I spoke up.
"Could I...Could I make a suggestion, General?" Those eyes focused on me and I tried to keep from stammering my next words. "Do you like wine?" He nodded, and I turned back to Bud, pulling a small memo pad and pen from my purse. As I spoke, I wrote. "Have them put all the drinks on my tab, Bud, and see if they have one of these. Mont Mareal Brut Cava or...." I thought a moment. "Oh...uh...Codorniu Cuvee Raventos Brut....I think you might like those," I directed to Maximus. "They're Spanish vintages." His eyes gleamed in response.
White repeated what I said, and took the piece of paper. "Got it, honey. I'll have A.J. or Liz bring it over." He leaned towards me, patting one hand and kissing my cheek. "You have really made my night, Tina. I owe you."
"Oh Bud--" I was touched by his sweetness. "Thank *you* for everything."
"And I'm leaving you in great hands. Oh, be sure to tell Max more about your home state." I shook my head, puzzled. "What Kentucky is best know for." He winked as my eyes lit up -- it would be something that would please the Spaniard, and definitely get the conversation running. Just as my job as a civilian evidence technician would open the doors with John Biebe. "Hey, fellas, you'd better treat this young lady right, or you'll have me to answer to." We all laughed. "I'll see you all later."
"Bye, Bud," I told him as he walked away, and the two men repeated my words. Now we were alone, and I briefly wondered whether now - with Bud gone as my buffer - I could make it.
Maximus was the first one to speak. "Miss Stewart -- I was saying earlier that I was unfamiliar with Kentucky. It simply fascinates me to see where exactly in the world you various ladies hail from."
"Well...Kentucky is a small state compared to say...California, or Texas,...or Alaska." John smiled. "We're...sort of in the heart of the United States. Have you seen a map?" He nodded. "It's located between the east coast and the mighty Mississippi River which is approximately midway the country. We're not northern or southern, eastern or western. That's why it's called a border state. We're in-between, so we have the advantages and disadvantages of each. During our Civil War--"
"That's the one Michelle - she's another of our ladies - introduced me to a few weeks ago; a documentary television series by...a Ken Burns?"
"Oh yeah," I said. "Great series. You'll learn a lot from that one...But yeah, during our Civil War, we were pretty much neutral because of our border state status; Kentucky had slave holders, but also those who were anti-slavery...In modern times, my city, Louisville, is currently the largest in the state, but there are areas...which are full of farms, mountains."
"Sounds quite nice."
"It can be, yes."
"And what Bud was mentioning -- what Kentucky is best known for. What might that be?"
I sat back. Thank you, Wendell White. "Horses." Maximus' eyes expressed a combination of sheer delight and nostalgia. "Kentucky is known for its' horses, General."
He raised a hand. "Before we continue...Please Miss Stewart. You must stop calling me General. I really don't use that title any longer." There was that beautiful smile again. "We're informal here, right, John?"
"Exactly. Like Liz said, "We're family.'"
"So," Max continued, "you must call me either Maximus...or Max, which is what most everyone around here calls me. Being called...Max *is* a little different--" I chuckled. "--but I'm growing accustomed to it."
"All right...Max. And promise to stop calling me Miss Stewart. Everyone calls me Tina. I expect both of you to call me that, too."
John replied, "I thought your Christian name was pretty. Etienne." His warm eyes were dancing as he correctly pronounced my name in his own unique accent, and I felt myself grow flushed. I was uncertain why I was reacting to Biebe this way, considering I had only seen the charming 'Mystery, Alaska' once.
"Indeed," Maximus said. "Quite lovely, John." I noticed that his eyes were sparkling as well when he gazed at me. "Now that we have that settled...Tina...you must tell me about Kentucky and your horses. Do you breed any yourself?"
Shaking my head, I gave a small laugh. "Oh no, Maximus, not hardly. I love them - - I admire them...as beautiful, magnificent creatures, but I don't raise any. Now my great-grandfather - my mother's grandfather - he bred horses on the small farm he had when she was a child. That was how my mother acquired her expertise. Now *she's* the authority in my family when it comes to horses, especially thoroughbred race horses."
"Follows them from the start of their careers?"
"You'd better believe it. She watches from the time they're two-year-olds when they start racing, until some of them are practically ready to retire. I've never seen a person know horseflesh as well as she does. And she never gambles on them; she just loves to watch them race."
"That's the best way to go," Max said. "Makes it all less...stressful."
"Absolutely."
"So Kentucky - - it's very well known for its' horses?"
I began to beam. Although Kentucky often did not feel exactly like home to me, and I had been born and bred there (some part of me felt as if I belonged elsewhere; England had answered that), the mention of her proud racing heritage brought out a spark in me. I started with the annual sale at Keeneland, explaining to Maximus' quiet attentiveness, how horse buyers came from all over the world to make purchases.
"Later in their careers, these horses may bear foreign sounding names like Fusaichi Pegasus, or as simply American as Silver Charm, but they all share that one particular magic. There was that moment, at the Keeneland yearling sale, when someone saw something...special about that unnamed horse, with only a catalog number for his or her name. People have paid millions, and were disappointed. Others have spent a few thousand..." I shrugged, smiling, realizing how they were both hanging on my words. "...They've spent a few thousand...and unknowingly purchased legends."
Maximus shook his head, amazed. "Absolutely incredible. I can just...imagine the excitement around an event such as that." He sat forward a little. "I can still remember...visiting other breeders, or going to markets outside Trujillo. You're looking..." He shook his hands, trying to find the right words, but it was difficult. "You're looking for that one...special...Then that...one...He or she...you know it when you see it. They're not always the most...Well, the biggest or strongest, or most beautiful at the time..."
"Exactly," I said, hearing the passion in each word. For a second, I recalled a moment from the movie, how the ponies near his house would play with his son, and the little boy wanted to be like them. How his horses were taken from him - - like his family, his life.
"But you know them. In your heart...you know them," he continued. "I would very much like to see this Keeneland."
"I think it's by invitation only, but...the farms...many of the farms still exist. Other areas of the world produce great horses, too, but Kentucky..."
"It still has that magic, huh?"
I nodded. "Yes it does. But you can still see some of the great farms. They're in eastern Kentucky. Beautiful country. So different from Louisville or Lexington, the other large city...Rolling hills, green fields, and meadows..."
"Elysium," Maximus stated, grinning in that way which left me wanting to fall at his feet.
I laughed softly. "Green fields...the horses romping with the sun on their faces...Guess it could be. I'd never thought of it that way. Elysium for horses...Oh, and they not only breed on these farms; some of the most famous winners in the racing world are put to stud on them."
"Lucky horses," the general joked and we all chuckled.
"Tina." The voice was soft, thoughtful. I turned to look at the Alaskan sheriff, his eyes twinkling. I had watched him occasionally during my conversation, which had mainly been with Maximus. He remained quiet throughout, often with hands clasped as he listened, or pushing that dark, sexy hair off his face with that practiced sweep of the hand. Funny, this was the first time I had noticed...he had auburn highlights in his hair if one looked at it in the right lighting. I liked that...Okay, I tried to concentrate and read what was behind those blue-green eyes when we looked at each other. All it did was cause warmth that caressed every muscle between my legs. I wondered if the feeling was mutual. I'd never had a man look at me in the caring, sweet way I sometimes saw Biebe do.
He spoke my name again, and this time I responded. "I'm sorry John. What was that?"
"Tell Max what happens every year in Kentucky. The big race."
"The big...Oh my God, the Derby. John's right. I *have* to tell you about that, Max."
"Yeah, it had just ended about the time we were in Louisville for the S.P.I. schools. Max...you won't believe how this one event..." John shook his head. "You'll never believe it."
Maximus appeared bemused. "*What* is the Kentucky Derby?"
"Well every..."
A.J. the bartender suddenly appeared at our table, a large tray in hand. "Sorry about the delay, folks. Business - as you can see - has picked up...For the lady, Champaign mimosa." I thanked him. "John, your usual: Coors Light off the tap. And for the General, based on Ms. Stewart's recommendation, Mont Marcal Brut Cava. Sorry we didn't have the other."
"*This* should be fine, A.J. Thank you," Max told him, accepting the glass.
"Okay...two club sandwiches on whole wheat; one large order of mozzarella sticks; large order of potato sticks. Oh, and Bud added some stuffed mushrooms too. They're on the house. Thought you all might enjoy them."
"Thanks, A.J.," John told him. "Tina, you're sure you don't want anything? The mushrooms are fantastic. That is if you like mushrooms."
"I love 'em." I kept looking at the plate of large, broiled mushrooms stuffed with breadcrumbs, herbs and other items I couldn't yet figure out. "It's tempting, but...I'm sure. I splurged a bit earlier when I ate with Bud, so... maybe I'd better pass. I appreciate it though."
"Some other time then," he said softly and I smiled in return. I sipped my drink, loving how wonderfully this bar prepared one of my favorites. I noticed that Maximus had lifted the crystal so that the light sparkled about the ruby red of his wine. He smiled at me, and I bowed my head, indicating he should go ahead. He took a deep sniff, swirled it, and raised the glass to his lips. "Well?" I asked anxiously.
"You said it's Spanish?" I nodded, and his smile increased. "Then I'm happy to see that my homeland still produces vintages of great note. Tina...this is marvelous."
"You're not just saying that?"
"It's wonderful. Very flavorful, quite elegant. Very impressive."
"Thank God."
"Where did you learn about this? Are you an expert in wine?"
"Not hardly," I laughed. "I just read a lot about wines because I like them. It wasn't that long ago I saw an article on Spanish wines in a magazine, and the two I mentioned...they stuck with me. They were both great vintages, but fairly inexpensive. I think that's what made an impression."
"I'm quite glad they did. John, really, you should try this sometime."
"I'm not much of a connoisseur myself," John admitted, giving me a lopsided smile that made me giggle.
"Neither am I," I confessed. "I just like a good wine now and then. And I like to read about them, too."
"Well when you put it that way - - " John told us, "- - I like wine, too." He ran a finger over the rim of his mug. "Prefer Coors - -"
"Hey, if I was a beer drinker, I'd drink Coors Light myself. I was in Denver in '99 for my Titanic Historical Society convention - - yes, I am a member of such a thing - -" and they both chuckled, "and I visited the Coors brewing plant in Golden. Talk about a Nirvana for beer drinkers. The tour's free, and at the end you can have up to three free samples of anything they brew. And I'm not talking Dixie cup size. I'm talking..." and I pointed at his mug.
"Up to three of these?" John asked, disbelieving. I nodded. "I have *got* to get to Denver! Now that'd be a hell of a road trip."
"I even had to sample some. Barely got through it but...It was very good as far as beers go. Even had a chance to sample a Coors Light before it's aged; very clean taste...I liked it better than what they sell, and that was pretty good."
John nudged Maximus. "We've got to tell the girls. Next major road trip: Denver...uh, Golden." As Max nodded, John grinned at me and winked. "Maybe Tina would like to escort us since she's been there." I smiled back, thinking I would very much enjoy doing that, although at the time, I was not quite sure what he meant by 'next major road trip'. Yes, I knew what a road trip was (my memories of the one in the movie 'Animal House' were quite prominent), but this was something these guys did on a regular basis? John spoke again: "Now...where were we?" He bit into his sandwich and after swallowing said, "Tina...you were going to tell Max -- "
"Oh, about the Kentucky Derby! What was I...Uh...oh, Max, you'll never believe it. You will not *believe* the celebrations surrounding this...this two minute race. With me working for the police department, it's not much fun anymore..."
Maximus grinned. "I can imagine, considering the logistics entailed in planning something of that magnitude."
"Exactly. I hate all the fireworks, parades, and other stuff surrounding it for the most part - just tired of the stress and all the hoopla - but the race itself." I shook my head in amazement. "Every first Saturday in May, it's like the whole world is watching Louisville, and for two minutes or so, Kentucky and the world come to a stop. Some of the best three-year-old thoroughbreds at the moment...race for a garland of roses...and yeah, in some cases, immortality...."
For the next few minutes, I explained the race's allure, and told of some of the winners - males and fillies - who had captured the moment. The names tripped off my tongue: Affirmed, Bold Forbes, Genuine Risk, Seattle Slew, Count Fleet...and my beloved Secretariat, who had set the Derby record by racing about a minute, fifty-eight seconds. The second place horse to him had run the second fastest time! I told of my childhood memories of this horse nicknamed Big Red: winning the Preakness two weeks after the Derby. Then about his fantastic win three weeks after that at New York's Belmont, the third leg of racing's magnificent Triple Crown.
"He moved thirty-one lengths ahead of the pack..." I whispered to their stunned pleasure. I had them hooked by the story, and horse racing was not even my forte. "...and when the race ended...he just kept running around the track as everyone celebrated...I swear, he could have run it again."
"Then he wasn't a normal horse," Maximus softly said, respect in his voice quite evident. "The horse...had the touch of the gods."
"He had something," John admitted. "I was just a kid too, but I remember him, and we don't really follow racing where I come from. Did you ever see him when he retired, Tina. I heard he was in Kentucky."
"I saw him once, a few years before he died...He was at a farm in eastern Kentucky - the area I told you about, Max. He..." I paused a second, for this was an emotional moment for me. I had adored this champion. "He...had a little bit of gray in his reddish coat, but he still...he had what John said...that...something. He could still wow a crowd, and they loved him for it." I swallowed hard. "Do you know...Do you know I cried when he died?" Blinking back my tears, afraid of looking silly, I noticed Maximus' expression and realized he fully empathized with me. "He was as great an athlete - - John...remember all those top fifty, hundred, whatever of the century sports polls and surveys and lists they kept regurgitating?"
"Do I? I got so damn sick of 'em."
"And Secretariat made a few."
"Which pissed a lot of sportswriters off."
"Why?" Max asked as he finished the last of the mozzarella sticks. "Considering his impact."
It was John who responded: "Because they didn't feel an animal should rate against a human. But that's *their* opinion. You've got folks who don't consider golf or auto racing sports either."
"So you've lost a Tiger Woods, a Jack Nicklaus, an A.J. Foyt."
"Tina's right. Secretariat, in his field, was every bit as great as Ali, or Michael Jordan, or Walter Payton..."
"Or Wayne Gretsky." I saw a little smile on John's behalf as he mouthed a 'Thank You' to me. "And I know we're throwing out a slew of names of people you don't have a clue about..."
Maximus grinned. "Oh...I've heard of Jordan. Everyone made sure I did...For some reason, a few people seem to think that...well, as a gladiator...I was the Michael Jordan of what I did. Now that I've seen some of his accomplishments...Well, I'm not sure if the comparison is fair,...but I can definitely understand."
"Jordan's one of the greatest. I don't even watch the NBA now that he's gone. And...I can see the resemblance myself."
"So can I," John added. He tilted the plate of mushrooms towards me, only now, one remained. "Tina? Last chance."
"Yes, Tina - please go ahead if you'd like."
I smiled. They had told me it was practically done vegetarian style and was low fat, so I was willing to take a chance. After all, you only live once, I thought, and the fat grams from this would be quite small. "Thanks guys." I placed it on a napkin, and took a bite a few seconds later, savoring how good it was. Now I was sorry I'd passed up their offer before.
And so our conversation went, the minutes quickly passing, just as they had when Bud and I talked. We drifted from sports, to my telling about my career. That fascinated both men: Maximus because he was incredulous at the advancements humans had made in science, even to my simple explanation of ridge detail in a fingerprint. John because...well, as with Bud, we shared a common love for the work we did.
"So did you and Bud have any disagreements?" John asked me while we waited for our refills. I would be switching to ice cold bottled water, as I only now was starting to feel the slightest lightheadedness, the effects of three mimosas. If I were impaired, how the hell would I drive home. I wondered if there might be a motel nearby so I could sleep for the night.
"About..." I began.
There was a twinkle in the sheriff's eyes. "About your...methods of evidence collection..."
"Oh *that*," I laughed, and I saw Max cover his mouth as he chortled. He'd obviously seen 'L.A. Confidential', too.
"How *not* to tamper with evidence..." John continued.
"How *not* to interrogate a witness, although I don't do that."
"Why you shouldn't stage a crime scene to fit what *you* want."
"We had a very nice talk. We finally...agreed to disagree, and we're still friends obviously. He respects my...he called it integrity...and I told him with a few changes, he could make a hell of a detective."
"You're right...he could."
"So we let it go at that."
"Yeah, Bud and I have had some interesting...talks, especially after I first got here."
"I'll bet," I joked.
"No, no, we really have. Sort of like the one you had with him. He respects my opinion, too, but..." John shook his head. "...well, Bud's Bud. What can I say?"
I told a few war stories as did John, and even Max, although they were definitely stories on a different level. Our discussion went from one thing to another as different points were raised, or memories unearthed. I spoke passionately of my love of history, particularly for the Tudor period in England. I told briefly of my England pilgrimage, and how that had answered so many of my prayers. I learned on further probing and recalling the Roman name, that Max had visited what was then the Temple of Aquae Sulis - now modern-day Bath, home to the ancient ruins of the great Roman spa. He could vaguely recall Stonehenge the more I described the area called Salisbury Plain for hundreds of years in this millennium. He knew of Londinium - London - and was amazed to hear of its' evolvement. But his greatest astonishment was reserved when he realized I was quite familiar with a good deal of military history.
"That's why...when I heard them announce the re-creation of the second battle of Carthage, I knew *exactly* what they were talking about. I'd just had a class on the Roman Republic,...and we studied that. It wasn't a battle...it was a freaking annihilation."
Eventually, for I had a feeling it would, we started on one of my favorite passions of all. It had started simply enough. As he drank another Coors Light, John had made mention of my visit to the plant and Denver (home of 'Titanic' heroine, Margaret "Molly" Brown). He recalled me speaking of the Titanic Historical Society, and I explained it was a worldwide organization started in the United States by 'Titanic' enthusiasts, and devoted to the preservation of the history of the ship, her sisters, and the White Star Line. John mentioned the Cameron film. I attention to detail, to him actually dealing with real survivors; or having real 'Titanic' historians Ken Marschall and Donald Lynch consult on the movie in many aspects. I, too, had met these same people at conventions I'd attended. I even joked that I would have loved being an extra on the movie.
"I can just see me...holding onto the stern section for dear life, waiting for the hydraulics to start lowering this sucker." Both of them were laughing now, as was I. "And Cameron's barking freaking orders at us. 'You...Yeah you from Louisville. You didn't die fast enough. You're fired!!'" I took a drink of water. "I'd give...*would* have given anything to have been on that set."
"I'm surprised," Max interrupted, "you didn't get into 'The Insider'."
"They weren't casting evidence technicians," I grinned.
"Well it could have been worst," John told me. "I mean, worst than being an extra on the stern in 'Titanic'. Freezing your butt off on location to film 'Mystery, Alaska'."
"Or burning up out in the desert during the day, then freezing in the mountains at night while making 'Gladiator'," Max added.
"Suffering through somebody's lousy acting." They looked at me, stunned, silently asking 'Which of our movies?' "Sorry...not either of yours. I was thinking about some poor extra on say...a Stallone, or..." I shuddered, "...Pauly Shore movie."
John's head playfully hit the table. "Oh God...that's awful. Nobody should have to suffer like that. The Constitution specifically forbids cruel and unusual punishment." I almost sputtered my water I was laughing so much. When we all had calmed down, and quiet came across the table, I heard John softly and respectfully say, "You love movies, don't you?"
