Chapter Fifty-One
When Sarah became aware of light around her, she made a futile effort to get her bearings. She had no idea how long her Swiss cheese brain refused to listen to her commands. Eventually, she moved her head and watched her legs twitch. Another attempt produced the same result.
She waited a few minutes more before she ordered her hand to touch her legs. At first, she thought her inability to move her hand was tied to whatever was going on with her head, but then it dawned on her she was cuffed to one of her mother’s kitchen chairs. Peter sat across the table shifting a Taser from hand to hand.
“Peter.” Her voice was barely a whisper. She licked her lips before using them to haltingly formulate more words. “What are you doing?”
He banged the hand not holding the Taser on the table. “Shut up. I need to think. You couldn’t leave well enough alone.”
She wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but she obeyed him while she tried to retrieve her memories. The names Jacob and Anne floated through her mind.
She moaned.
He glared at her. “I told you, be quiet.”
Sarah had no choice but to do as he asked. She wasn’t responding fast enough to pull her ideas together. Suddenly, one thought no longer was clouded—he had to be thinking about what he was going to do with her.
“Peter, I won’t say anything. We can stop this now.”
“Not for you, we can’t. Just like Richard, you had to stick your nose where it didn’t belong. If you’d just let Jane have that darn cat, we’d never have gotten to this point.”
“Because you were going to pin Bill’s murder on Emily?”
He stood, leaving the Taser on the table just beyond her reach. As he paced the kitchen, she stared at the Taser.
“Bill’s death happened by chance. We planned to meet to talk about another buyout. Emily wasn’t supposed to be there, but I guess when he got to the Civic Center, something displeased him and he flew off the handle and called her to meet him. It doesn’t matter. If you’d kept your nose out of things, this would have been over without our ever proving a case against her. Bill died from his nut allergy. The tox reports will confirm that and the medical examiner won’t be able to say if Bill ingested the nuts by accident or it was a homicide.”
“But people would still have thought her guilty—after all, she was there.”
“Maybe, but she could say he called her to be there and note she gave him CPR. I would have said something, too, when I dropped the investigation, saying I accepted the conclusion that it was an accident, not a murder.” He leaned over the table, resting on his hands. The Taser was only a few inches away from her.
“An accident?” Sarah shifted in her chair, hoping to get closer to the Taser. With her hand cuffed to the chair, she couldn’t reach it without scooching forward. If she did that, her chair would scrape the floor and Peter would hear it.
A wave of nausea hit her. Sarah gagged. She grabbed for the edge of the table, hoping she could stop the room from moving in circles. As the sensation passed, she focused on listening to Peter rather than watching him again pace the room.
“When I got there Wednesday night, I didn’t know he’d called Emily. I wanted to discuss our business, but Bill only wanted to talk about Jane.”
“Jane?”
“She was upset, so he was upset. I don’t know why, but he had a thing for her.”
“She’s a firebrand.” Sarah’s mind wandered to her marriage to Bill. “I guess I wasn’t his type after all.” She forced herself to concentrate on what Peter was saying rather than her random thoughts. “Why were they upset?”
“Bill was concerned because Jane was nervous about the Expo and competition. He refused to talk business until I tasted Jane’s rhubarb crisp.”
“What?”
“She begged him to give her his honest opinion of her dish and he promised he would; but, as he explained to me, he hated rhubarb so he didn’t think he could swallow it, let alone be impartial. He wouldn’t talk business until we tasted and discussed the rhubarb crisp he’d pulled from the refrigerator. We both took a forkful and Bill started having trouble breathing.”
“You didn’t call for help?” Sarah blinked a few times. Her head felt fuzzy.
“I was going to when I heard someone shout his name. At that moment, he gasped and was gone. I lay him on the floor to give him CPR, but I could tell he was beyond hope. I panicked and decided I better leave and let the other person find him.”
“Emily?”
“That’s who it turned out to be. I slipped into the shadows with my fork still in my hand—the only evidence I’d been there—and went out the back door. I didn’t know who found him until nine-one-one was called.”
“Surely you could have explained everything.”
“If I’d called nine-one-one immediately, but not once I left. Not if I wanted to keep my job.” Peter pounded his fist on the table. The Taser gun bounced slightly closer to her from the force of his hit.
She tried to figure out how she could reach it.
“I honestly don’t know how I let things get so out of control.” He surveyed the room. “If I’d called an ambulance for Bill immediately, none of this would have happened. Sarah, I never wanted anyone to get hurt, especially you, but you’ve backed me into a corner.”
Peter stared at her with pleading eyes, as if asking for her forgiveness. She certainly couldn’t give it, but she could pretend.
“I understand.” Sarah wanted to say something else, but she suddenly felt very tired. She struggled to keep her head erect so Peter would keep talking. “What happened next?”
“Bill and I had been talking about him either selling his property or using the main house to move Southwind into, but if he sold, the carriage house needed to be unencumbered. For all intents and purposes, he already had control of Southwind through adding his shares to Jane’s, but he figured that he could also get control of the carriage house back if he installed her as the trustee. In anticipation of their getting married and his changing her to the trustee, he had an attorney in Birmingham draft a new will and trustee form.”
“Draft?” Sarah wrinkled her brow. “The unsigned ones in Harlan’s office were marked ‘Draft,’ but the ones you showed us in your office were signed.”
“And those signatures would have sufficed with Judge Larsen if Harlan hadn’t started poking around on Emily’s behalf. He complicated everything when he brought me evidence Bill had pulled a fast one on you with the carriage house and animal trust.”
“Animal trust,” Sarah repeated. She fought to keep her head from falling to her chest but couldn’t do it.
“Harlan didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Her words slurred.
Peter picked up the Taser and went behind her. He removed the handcuff and, pulling on her arm, yanked Sarah to her feet. “It seems Mrs. Blair named you as RahRah’s caretaker.”
“Mother Blair and RahRah.” Sarah raised her head and smiled.
“Yeah.” Peter steadied her. “I’ll find him later. Now I’ve got to get you out of here.”
“Where are we going?”
Peter rubbed his hand over her cheek. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted this.” He push-dragged her toward the door. The police cruiser was parked in the driveway.
She dug her heels into the floor. If she allowed Peter to wrestle her into its handleless backseat, she’d be stuck until they reached his final destination for her. She needed to stay within the safe walls of her mother’s house.
“Please, Peter,” she grabbed her stomach, “I’m going to be sick.”
He ignored her and shoved her forward.
She grabbed the kitchen counter by the sink. As she grasped the counter, a slight movement outside the window caught her eye. She looked away for fear Peter would see it, too. She clutched the counter as tightly as she could, but the hard end of Peter’s Taser stuck in her back made her let go.
Sarah took a few steps, then deliberately stumbled. She tucked her head to her chest as she fell to the floor, rolling her body away from the window. Peter tripped over her but managed to stay on his feet. He seized the end of her blouse, but the material gave. He reached for her again.
Before he could get a firm hold, the kitchen door opened. Marcus, head down, hurled himself football player–style across the open space to head-butt Peter. Peter sidestepped, allowing an off-balance Marcus to ram the kitchen table, bad arm first. Harlan, who had followed Marcus into the kitchen, tried to rush Peter. Peter raised his arm with the Taser.
Sarah screamed. Harlan ducked, forcing Peter to adjust his aim. As Peter steadied the Taser, a tan shadow leapt across the room and sunk its claws into Peter’s outstretched arm. Peter jerked his arm up but couldn’t shake RahRah off. He swatted at him with his free hand, but RahRah held on as Marcus shoved Peter from behind.
The Taser fell.
Both Sarah and Peter dove for it, but Sarah reached it first. As she gripped the Taser, Peter slipped his arm around her neck and pulled her back toward him. She struggled to catch her breath against his tightening hold. Except for a few flashes and spots of light, the room darkened. With one final effort, she swung her arm backward and pulled the Taser’s trigger before everything went black.