Canyon Road (8 page)

What was she to do now? Hire another attorney? Who? Who could she trust? Who could walk into this mess and make sense of it? Peeved, then angry, she circled the kitchen. A niggling thought that perhaps she ought to be a bit frightened rose up. Bill Rattnor – with his peculiar dark personality – how far would he go to protect what appeared to even Sage's untrained eye to be a brazen embezzlement?

"What are friends for?" she finally said, resigned. Picking up the phone, she
called Anthony and was relieved when he, himself answered.

"I really hate to bother you, Anthony, but...."

"Good grief, Sage, you're never a bother. I couldn't be happier than to hear your voice."

"Thank you, Anthony. But... this is actually a business call. I need your opinion on a file Bill Rattnor sent over this morning at my insistence. I'd bring it to you, but I've got it strewn all over my kitchen counters in discrete piles and...."

"No problem, Sage."

Sage heard a burst of giggles in the background. "Oh! you have company...."

"Michael and Millie have been out riding. They just came in and are acting very fresh-air goofy." Sage could hear the affection in Anthony's voice.

She chuckled, happy to hear a nuance of joy in Anthony's voice that she'd never heard. "Okay, you 'kids' all enjoy yourselves. This boring paperwork can wait."

"Nonsense. Those kids can take care of themselves. I'll be over in about an hour, if that suits you."

"If you're sure... wait, I have an idea. Bring Michael and Millie with you. They can play in the garden while you and I look at the papers for a bit... you'll probably look a this muddle for five minutes and have it – and me – all straightened out. I'll make my famous spaghetti dinner."

"Oh! I didn't know your spaghetti dinners were famous."

"I misled you – it's the person on the jars of spaghetti sauce in my pantry who is famous. But I can and will make a gigantic salad from scratch."

Anthony laughed. "It sounds wonderful. A casual dinner with my favorite people. I'll bring bread and wine."

Sage hung up the phone and looked around the paper-strewn kitchen. What was she thinking? She never even cooked for herself, and now, with the kitchen in complete mayhem, she'd invited three people over. One of whom – one of whom made her pulse race. The image of his profile the night he drove her to her door in the darkened limo came back to her, etched on her synapses. The very look of him – not just that he was so attractive – but something else, a sensation that she'd been with him before, a discomforting feeling that she needed to be near him.

He's not available, she reminded herself. Sighing deeply, she turned her back to the muddle of paperwork, leaned against the counter and rubbed her forehead, willing all the jangling thoughts to be still.

At that moment, the front door chimes rung out. Sage glanced up at the clock. Surely it wasn't Anthony already? She wandered to the front door, hoping it wasn't Anthony just yet, also hoping it wasn't some annoying salesperson, when she saw Bill Rattnor though the beveled glass of the door, pacing back and forth. Tempted to step back and avoid him altogether, it was too late. He saw her and stood facing her at the door.

She opened the door a crack. "I'm sorry, Mr. Rattnor, I don't have time to talk with you right now."

"Oh yes you do," he said, pushing his way into the foyer.

Shocked, Sage backed away from him. "Please leave. I'm requesting politely, but I'm serious."

"I am so fed up with you," he said through gritted teeth. "I am so fed up with you! You've been a pain from the first day you entered this house until this very moment. I'm going to try and talk some sense into you, but I'm warning you, I'm at the end of my tether."

Sage took another step back, fear running ice water through her. "Mr. Rattnor, for the last time, leave my home. Furthermore, you are no longer in my employ. I nearly fired you yesterday. Now add breaking and entering and threatening me and we have reached the termination of your involvement with my aunt's estate and with me." She moved cautiously around him and opened the door wide. "And we will see what falls out regarding your probable embezzlement." As soon as she said this, Sage regretted it. Poke a stick at the tiger, will you, she said to herself.

And she was right. She could hardly believe the transformation that appeared before her. Rattnor's eyes became slivers, his teeth crunched together roping his jaw, his face flushed a fire-anger red, and his entire body became ramrod, every muscle clinched.

"Shut up," he hissed. "shut up, shut up, shut up. I have had it with you Elgin bitches. First one then the other. Flaunting your bodies around, teasing. Flaunting your money. You don't deserve one single cent. You ought to be living in a tent. Who are you? Nobody, nothing. You've never done anything worthwhile in your life. Never lifted a finger.

"I've slaved around the clock, day in and day out. And for what? Only to have you think you can tell me I'm fired? Well, that's not going to happen, little girl. What's going to happen is another accident. Perfect too. Just like your Aunt. Perfect justice. You miss her so much? We'll just have you join her."

He reached out to grab her, she stepped back behind the door. "What are you saying? What are you saying about Victoria?"

A rictus grin crossed his features. "Nothing. Just that, it looked like her horse threw her. Her horse, that she loved more than anything or anyone. That she'd raised from birth. And excellent rider that she was, too."

Now trapped behind the door, Rattnor grabbed her, with lightning strength, he spun her around and pinned her arms behind her back. "And you're going to have an accident too." In a steel grip that stunned her, that she could not escape, he drug her backwards across the foyer. "I can just see the headlines now, "beautiful heiress tumbles down her own winding stairway. So sad, too bad. Cut short in the midst of her frivolities."

They reached the bottom of the stairs. "Let. Me. Go!" Sage screamed in his ear, struggling with every bit of her strength.

"Shut up!" He slapped her across the face so hard she became disoriented.

He drug her up three steps. "Have to get high enough to accomplish the goal."

"Think about what you're doing," she tried to reason.

"I have thought about this long and hard, for many hours, you can count on it. Shut up." He drug her up another couple of steps.

"Anthony is on his way over," she whispered, knowing that, if Rattnor was successful, Anthony would be too late.

Rattnor stopped and looked down at her incredulously. "Oh, that's pathetic! You must think I've very stupid. I know you can't stand him. I know you would never have him here. Honestly, Victoria, I am so sick of the way you patronize me. I'm so sick of your thinking you're superior to me."

"Sage," Sage said.

"What?"

"You said Victoria. Victoria is dead. Apparently you killed her. I'm Sage."

He looked confused for a brief moment then shook his head. "Who cares? There's no difference between the two of you. One of you, two of you, ten of you, it's all the same. You're this endless monster in my life. Soon to be over. What I've worked on so long and hard will finally be mine. Finally!" He drug her up another step.

"How so?"

"Don't you remember willing everything to me in that giant stack of papers I had you sign in our executor meeting. You don't? Never mind, it's all taken care of. Not to worry."

Sage kicked off her heels and got some traction on the carpet. "If I'm going down, you crazy creep, you're going with me." She gambled on the six or seven steps being a less dangerous fall that the entire stairway. Throwing everything into her thrust, she lurched on top of him, and they rolled to the bottom of the stairs.

As Sage felt herself slip into unconsciousness, she heard car doors slamming and, at some distance it seemed, yelling.

But it just didn't seem to matter, any more, to pay any attention to it. She saw Aunt Vicky far away in a glorious light-filled meadow of sunflowers. That seemed like the perfect place to be.

Chapter 9

Sage regained consciousness slowly, drowsy and confused. She opened her eyes. She wondered where she was... she didn't recognize the room at first and then her eyes found the little oval antique picture of the Cupid she was fond of. She finally realized she was in her own room, with the breeze blowing through the pale green ruffled glass curtains at the window.

Very strange how unfamiliar it appeared at first. She tried to understand why she felt so foggy.

"Oh, wonderful! You've come to," a woman said behind her.

Sage turned to see who was talking to her. A blinding flash of pain shot through her shoulder. "Ohhh!" She winced as she made out Millie.

Millie scooted the little boudoir chair near Sage. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. What hurts?"

"My shoulder. In fact, both of my shoulders. Ohh!" It came back to her... Rattnor dragging her backwards by her pinned arms across the floor and up the stairs. "Oh!" She started to shiver involuntarily.

"There, there, now, everything is going to be all right." Millie leapt up from the chair. "Let me get Anthony. He's talking to the police. They... they took that crazy scumbag away."

"No, stay, Millie. If Anthony's... let him finish that business. You, please, stay with me."

"Okay," Millie came back to the little chair, then reached out and patted Sage's hand. "Poor Sage. What a monster he is. I shudder to think... that is... I'm so glad we came early. Anthony wanted to come right away after you called. He was really... it's almost as if he knew. He practically shoved us into the car. I wanted to change but he said, 'no, bring your stuff and change at Sage's.'

"And he was right, wasn't he?"

"He was," Sage agreed, starting to nod, then thinking better of it. She signed deeply, "Oh, that hurts too."

"The doctor said you were pretty bruised, but no bones broken."

"Oh! My doctor was here? How long have I been out?"

"I believe it's Anthony's private physician. He came right away. He was here before the police even. Then the police came and Michael carried you up here while Anthony talked to them. The doctor had me stay here to watch you."

"Thank you," Sage said simply. "You're very sweet."

"Oh, well, no, I'm not. Anyway, it's enough to know that that horrible person will be put away." There were tears in Millie's eyes. "He'll be put away where he can't hurt anyone anymore!"

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Sage called.

Anthony opened the door. He Michael stood at the door step.

"Well, come on in you two." She started to wave them in, and stopped, wincing at the pain. "I can't seem to get it through my head that my shoulders hurt." Despite it all, however, Sage smiled, a feeling of gratitude welling up inside her that was larger than she could express in words.

These three people had saved her life. She felt tears escape.

"Are you all right?" Anthony came to the other side of the bed.

Sage patted the bed for him to sit. "I'm fine, Anthony... it's just, I'm so grateful. I'm so fortunate."

"Fortunate? Dear heart, you've just been beaten and have fallen down a flight of stairs within an inch of your life."

"But you all saved my life. I am
so grateful
. Thank you." She looked at each of them in turn, and even Michael, who still stood in the doorway, had tears in his eyes. "Come in Michael. Don't stand out there in the cold," Sage continued, "come in to the warmth of the family." She gestured to the love seat by the window.

Michael nodded and crossed the room. Everyone was silent, watching him. He looked around at them all. "For my next act...."

Sage and Millie giggled.

"I think we could all use some tea," Millie said.

"Oh, yes, please," Sage agreed. Sorry about all the paperwork on the counters in the kitchen."

"No problem. Anthony mentioned on the way over that that's why we were coming in the first place. I'll work around it."

The front door chimes rang through the house. "And I'll get that on my way."

The three of them listened as Millie opened the door. she called up the stairs, "Anthony, it's a detective. he wants to ask some more questions."

Anthony patted Sage's hand. 'I'll be right back."

There was a moment of awkward silence between Sage and Michael.

"How have you been?" Sage finally asked.

"Fine. Keeping busy." Michael's tone was cool.

"Are you... angry with me?" Sage asked, puzzled.

"No. No, I'm not angry with you. I'm just, I guess I'm confused."

"Confused by what?" Sage breathed deeply, willing the pain and fog in her head to stop so she could clearly understand Michael.

"I don't understand how you could have this Bill Rattnor anywhere around you in your life...."

"Oh. Well. You're right. Absolutely right. It's fallout from my being too nice. Why didn't I fire him before? I almost did, yesterday. And why didn't Aunt Vicky fire him? I don't know the answer to that question. Why I didn't fire him – I didn't want to hurt him. I didn't like him. I didn't trust him. But... I was, simply, too nice."

Michael nodded, still unconvinced. "He's a bad person."

"I know," Sage agreed. "I have the bruises to testify."

"Yes. you do. You're going to have that shiner for awhile."

"Shiner?"

"Black eye. Bruised face."

Sage brought her hand to her face, wincing at the pain in her shoulder. "Oh!" She exclaimed, touching her cheek. "Now, that's sore. I must be quite a sight." She waved at the little mirror on her dresser. "Can you hand me that?"

Michael hesitated. "No. I don't think I should."

"That bad?" She started to stand, cried out in pain and slumped back on the bed.

"Okay, all right. Ill hand you the mirror." He came over to the bedside with the mirror.