by Amberlee Day
Cleo leaned over the railing, but she couldn’t see anyone, or anything that could account for the crash. The guests made a great deal of noise, all wanting to share what they heard. After she made a headcount, Cleo got their attention. “Please,” she said. “Everyone, please listen. Maybe if we’re quiet we can hear—”
“Who are you talking to?” Alyssa sneered at her. “Like anyone’s going to take you seriously, mermaid.”
Cleo pushed back the anger she felt at the awful woman, and was about to head downstairs herself when footsteps sounded on the main staircase, making everyone turn. Cleo’s heart lifted when Van appeared, out of breath but smiling.
Alyssa hurried to meet him. “We heard a noise,” she said, her voice very different than when she spoke to Cleo. “Did someone get hurt?”
Van chuckled. “One of the kitchen help went to check that she’d turned off the oven, and found the pool boy sitting in the dark, eating a sandwich. Scared the life out of her. She knocked over a stack of mixing bowls ... made a noise to wake the dead.”
“No kidding!” one of the male guests said. “I thought it was right outside my room.”
“Sounds like someone’s job is on the line, scaring all your guests this way,” Alyssa said. She put a hand on Van’s arm, but he had been walking through the group as he talked, and passed by her to stand near the north wing door.
“Nothing that can’t be taken care of tomorrow,” he said. “Everyone back to bed. Sorry you were disturbed.”
There were grumbles and yawns, but everyone returned to their rooms. Alyssa watched until Cleo started back toward the servants’ hall; then she too closed her bedroom door.
As Cleo passed Van, his hand quietly reached out and seized her arm. She gasped, and looked up to see a terrified, pleading look in his eyes.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“Lily?” His voice was hushed as well.
“She’s fine, I just checked on her. Asleep.”
A small sigh escaped Van, but he didn’t relax. “Will you help me?”
Without question, and despite whatever else hung between them, she turned to follow where he would lead. He took her hand. His skin was warm, and he held onto Cleo like a lifeline. Something had happened, and Van was terrified. Her heart went out to him, even as she feared whatever it was that had upset him so much. Thankfully the suite doors remained closed, and together they crept down the main staircase, through the hall, and toward the kitchen.
“Watch your step,” he whispered. Though the hallway lights were off, she could see on the ground where large pieces of metal and glass lay.
“Is that ...?” she asked.
“It was a lamp, from the hall.”
The kitchen looked like someone had gone through it, knocking items to the floor, but they didn’t stop to investigate. Cleo could see signs of recent activity at the door leading outside, where slush melted on the stone floor. Before she could ask what happened, Van abruptly released her hand and grabbed coats and boots from the mudroom.
“Hurry,” he said. “Put these on.”
Despite the hurt and abandonment he’d put her through the past weeks, she put the items on. She loved him, and he needed help. That’s all that mattered.
Cleo hadn’t been outdoors in weeks. The deep snow had begun to melt, and the resulting slush had refrozen in the low nighttime temperatures. Their boots sunk low in the crunchy muck. Van took her hand again, and they followed someone else’s footsteps away from the house, into the woods. She didn’t ask where they were going, but Van was doing his best to run wherever it was, and she did her best to keep up.
It was about five minutes before they reached their destination, but she could see the light in the distance, blinking in and out of sight between the trees. When the house came into view, she wasn’t surprised. It was the house where she and Samson took refuge the night of the blizzard.
Van led the way around to the side entrance, where she and Samson had huddled in the cold. Now the windows were lit behind curtains, and the door was unlocked. He opened it, and led Cleo inside. They were in a kitchen, but Cleo couldn’t see anyone there.
Van took off his coat and boots, and briskly helped Cleo out of hers. “This way.”
Somewhere in the house, a woman screamed, and something banged against a wall. Cleo’s nerves prickled, but she didn’t ask. Van led her through the house, past an empty living room and down a hallway where one of several doors was open and the lights were on. When Cleo saw what was inside, she had to suppress a gasp.
Lying on a bed, a man was hooked up to an I.V. His eyes were closed. Torn jeans, a leather jacket, long stringy hair. Black eye makeup smeared on his face by tears or sweat. On the floor beside the bed was a fur and leather coat, and scuffed black leather boots.
A woman with a stethoscope occupied the room as well, and she rushed to meet them at the door. Grey-haired, short, Middle Eastern.
“How is he?” Van asked. “Gus said he was seizing.”
“He was, but the medication seems to be helping.”
“And what about ...?” Van hesitated.
“Your man is still with her.” The woman paused, as yelling and more banging sounded from another room. “I’ve been busy keeping him stable. I can see to her now, if I can leave him.”
Van took Cleo’s hand. That pleading, desperate look haunted his eyes again. “Can you stay with him? Let the doctor know if there are any changes?”
Cleo nodded. “What’s his name?”
Van looked at the man, but shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t even know how he got here.”
He shot a glance at the doctor, who folded her hands together. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I have no answers. I checked on her at midnight, and she was asleep. And alone.”
Van mulled that over for a few seconds, before rubbing his eyes. “I need to leave. We’ve got to get the emergency UTV up here. An ambulance wouldn’t make these roads.”
“Can’t you call them?” Cleo asked. “Have them come here?”
Van’s look told her no. “Gus is a volunteer, and he knows how to drive it. Less people involved that way. We’ll be about an hour. Can you wait here that long?”
“What do I do if he ... if he wakes up?”
“I’ll be down the hall,” the doctor said. “If you need me, come knock. Otherwise, just watch. He might start talking at some point. You can try to ask his name.” To Van she said, “I’m not sure I can handle her alone like this. Is there someone else who can help?”
Mrs. Fortney came bustling down the hall and around the corner just then. She was out of breath. “Here I am,” she said. “What’s needed? Oh, bless you!” she said when she spotted Cleo. She grabbed the girl’s hand, which reassured Cleo more than she could have said.
“Mrs. F, can you go with the doctor to watch her? You shouldn’t need to do anything. I don’t know that she’ll recognize you, but if the doctor can’t handle her ...?”
Mrs. Fortney nodded. “I’m stronger than I look. I can help that poor child.”
Van froze at her words, and for a moment Cleo thought he was going to cry. The fear and pain of whatever this was welled up in her, but it wasn’t the time for questions.
Van kissed Mrs. Fortney’s forehead, and then, before she knew what was happening, he’d grabbed Cleo and kissed hers as well, his cheek resting briefly on her forehead. She gasped, but he was already walking away.
“This way,” he said to the doctor and Mrs. Fortney. He pulled the door shut after them, with one last lingering look at Cleo. Then she and the nameless man on the bed were alone.
Chapter 28
Nasty, dirty socks, that fur coat, and an expensive-looking pinky ring. Cleo had nearly two hours to think about the man on the bed, hooked up to an IV. Who was he? And what were the IVs for? Whatever they were, they kept him mostly quiet. He groaned and moved a few times, but not much.
Other than questions about his physical condition, what bothered Cleo the
most was that ratty fur coat. When she’d had time to think about why, she realized it was probably a man’s coat. And she felt sure it belonged to the man on the bed.
Musician? That would be her guess. And something to do with drugs. Maybe he’d overdosed. But why wouldn’t Van know who he was?
The doctor came in to check on her patient a couple of times while Cleo was there, but otherwise she and Mrs. Fortney were busy with the woman in the other room. Again, drugs came to mind as Cleo listened to the woman yell, or scream and throw things, from the sounds of it. While the nighttime hours passed, Cleo began putting together something of what was happening. When Van came back, she would insist that he tell her what was going on. By helping, she was putting her trust in him; he could trust her with the truth.
It was still dark outside when she heard the vehicle coming from a long way off. Eventually the engine stopped just outside the house, and Van and Gus hurried into the room, wet and flushed.
“How’s he doing?” Van asked. The doctor heard them come in, and joined them.
“He’s stable,” she said. “We’ll keep the IV in him on the way to the hospital.”
As she got the equipment ready for travel, Van asked, “How is she?”
“Still hallucinating, very wired.”
“Is it meth?” Cleo asked. The look Van gave her made her so sad for him. He was distraught, weighed down.
“Yes, it is,” he said. “Whoever this is, he must have brought it here with him.”
“And the woman down the hall ...” Cleo tried to hold eye contact, not let him look away from her. “It’s Lorraine, isn’t it? Your sister.”
Van nodded. “She’s an addict,” he said.
Cleo put her arm around him. “What else can I do?”
“Nothing. You’ve already been a huge help. I ...”
Van suddenly pulled Cleo close to him. It almost took her breath away. No matter how much he’d tried to push her away in the past weeks, she loved him so much. She hugged him back, and pressed her cheek against his, with its morning stubble.
“You need to go in a few hours,” he said in her ear. “Leonard has it all arranged.”
“I can stay. I don’t have to go. If you need me, I can stay.”
He held her away from him. Looking into her eyes, he slowly brushed her cheek with a cold thumb. The intimacy sent shivers down her, as it always did. “Go,” he said. “It’s time. I’ve kept you here long enough. I don’t want you around for whatever comes next.”
“I don’t—”
But Van didn’t let her finish. He helped Gus get the man ready to move. “Go,” he said without looking at her again. “I want you to go.”
Cleo didn’t know what else to do. She stood there for a moment, watching them work, but she was only in the way. He wanted her to leave, even though she knew he needed her.
Or maybe it’s Alyssa he wants here. She remembered how they were together when she watched them in the hall. Maybe he did have feelings for Cleo, but wanted his future to be with Alyssa.
Tears stung her eyes for the first time during that long night. She turned and went to find her coat and boots. Van was right. It was time for her to go.
Chapter 29
“All right,” Cleo called to the group of swimmers. “We’ll break for lunch. Good work, ladies.”
As the collegiate synchro swimmers made their way out of the pool, Cleo jotted some notes onto her clipboard.
“Everything going all right?” Simon, head of the university’s swimming program, took the poolside seat next to Cleo’s. “Are the girls working out those kinks in the program for you?”
“They’re getting there, faster than I thought they would. Their energy’s amazing.”
“Just like you a few years back.”
Cleo laughed. “I suppose, but it makes me feel old. As much as I love being in the water, I’m more comfortable staying in my street clothes poolside than I would be trying to keep up with these girls.”
“I would bet you still have that level of performance in you. You can shake your head all you want, but I remember how good you were.”
“Thank you for saying that, Simon.”
“I feel lucky to have you, Cleo. Really. Even when Sarah’s back from maternity leave, I hope you’ll stay on and work with the program. You have a place here, you know, as long as you like.”
Cleo patted her old coach’s arm and gave him a smile, but she wasn’t ready to promise anything just yet. While she enjoyed what she had been doing the last weeks, something kept telling her that her time there was only temporary. She wasn’t sure what would be next, but she’d know it when it came to her.
Van’s face appeared in her mind, as it often did. Dark, warm eyes that didn’t hold back the love he felt. He’d insisted she leave Eagle Hill, and she had. She’d had no contact with him since he sent her away nearly two months ago, but it didn’t stop her from missing him, or loving him.
Two of the swimmers still toweled off by the pool, and they’d come close enough for Cleo and Simon to overhear their conversation. “Have you been following that story, about the Canadian billionaire?” one of the girls said, unwittingly capturing Cleo’s attention and making her heart do a flip.
“I heard something about it,” the other girl said, “but not what he was supposed to have done.”
“He locked up his sister and niece, kept them prisoners. It’s been all over the internet.”
Cleo’s stomach dropped like a brick. Her heart suddenly beat so furiously that she had to catch her breath. Van? It had to be Van.
“He must be one sick guy,” one of the girls said before they left for the locker room. “I hope they lock him up and throw away the key.”
Everything began to spin, and Cleo tried to process what the girl had said. Kept his sister locked up, and his niece. Prisoners. Half-truths, of course. There was much more to the story.
All over the internet. Oh, Van.
Simon asked, “Cleo? What’s the matter? Is everything all right?”
Cleo tried to steady her breathing. “No, it’s not.”
“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
“I’m not. I’m okay, but Simon? I need to leave. I need to go, right now. And I’m sorry, you’ve been so good to me, but ... I won’t be back.”
TWO MONTHS MADE ALL the difference, when it moved the world from early spring to first days of summer. Riding in the taxi through Lake Louise Village, Cleo couldn’t believe it was the same place she’d visited with Van and Lily. There was the turnoff to the rail station diner where they celebrated Lily’s birthday and Cleo had enjoyed her first real conversation with Van. When the lake came into view, Cleo gasped at the beauty of it. Its winter look had dazzled, but with the turquoise lake at the base of rugged evergreen mountains, and the chateau set as close to the water as it dared, it looked like a fairy-tale land. Banff’s most precious gem, Van had called it. Cleo’s gaze moved past the lake, up into the hillside. Eagle Hill. That was where she was headed, and where she hoped to find Van.
With the roads cleared of snow and slush, the taxi could take her all the way to the house, no snow carriage needed. It all felt so different, like a giant, friendly forest. She didn’t know what kind of welcome to expect when she got there, but her heart thudded in her chest at just the thought of seeing him again.
She opened up the backpack on the seat next to her, and pulled out her phone. There was still cell service here, and she was morbidly tempted to watch the video again, or search up the headlines. While it wasn’t the news of the day anymore, it was all there, if you looked for it. Billionaire Van Rivers accused of locking up his sister into forced drug rehabilitation. She was found by her boyfriend, a world-renowned guitar player and rock legend, who, after a brief stay in the hospital himself, led authorities to Lake Louise to release Lorraine Rivers from the house where her brother kept her imprisoned. The event was filmed by YouTube star Alyssa Jones-Blakely, who broadcast the whole thing for the world to see
. Lorraine Rivers’s ten-year-old daughter, who had been in her uncle’s care, was removed from Van Rivers’s Banff area mansion, and taken to live with her mother in Toronto.
They portrayed Van as a villain, the worst of the worst. There were talks of charges being filed, people boycotting his hotels. The headlines were bad enough, but Alyssa had been there to film it when Lorraine’s boyfriend showed up with the police. She played up how controlling the wealthy were, thinking they could get away with forcing their will on others. She also talked about his sweet niece, Lily, and how all she wanted to do was join a synchronized swimming team, and her uncle had denied her that to keep her imprisoned. That detail may have been what brought the story to Cleo’s little synchronized swimming world.
They passed the double steel gates, which had seemed so ominous the first time she’d passed through them. Today, they felt sad, but welcoming in the weak midday sun.
Eagle Hill finally came into view, and it felt bigger than ever. The shapes on the roof that she’d always thought might be gargoyles were finally clear of snow, and she could see they were really eagles. Magnificent, dignified, but also vulnerable.
Like Van. He’s kind of on the endangered list right now, too.
“Drive around to the right,” she told the driver. “There’s a side entrance there.”
Gus the caretaker must have heard the taxi coming, as he came around from the back of the house carrying a rake. A dark frown crossed his wrinkled brow, but it disappeared when Cleo stepped from the taxi. He grinned at her.
“Hi, Gus,” she said. “How is he?”
“He’ll be better with you here.” He took off his gloves, and to Cleo’s delighted surprise, the quiet old fellow gave her a hug. “I’m glad you’re back. He’s inside somewhere, probably the library.”
Warmth flooded over Cleo. “Thank you, Gus. It feels like I’m coming home.”
“So you are.”