A Moment in Time (4 page)

Valerie jerked upright into a sitting
position. When Teddy tried to ease her back down onto the bed, she
said firmly, "No, Teddy, that's my pager. I have to—"

His mouth went over hers, determined to keep
her quiet, but she shook her head from side to side. "No," she
rasped. She struggled to get out from under him. "Let me up,
Teddy," she cried. "Let me up, goddamn it! Now!"

Reluctantly he backed off, letting her leap
free to pick up her pager. It was obviously the service beeping her
to call in. She grabbed her cell phone off the bedside table and
snapped it open.

"Dr. Rochelle," she said in a professional
voice.

From his position on the tangled bed, Teddy
listened to her end of the conversation, looking up at her with a
mixture of disappointment and disgust. Becoming increasingly
frustrated and angry, he jammed a fist into a pillow, then leapt up
off the bed and marched around the room, noisily slamming the
French doors and windows shut. When he was finished, he stood arms
akimbo and feet planted wide apart, glaring at her. Then he turned
and stomped into the bathroom, slamming that door behind him.

When her conversation with the service was
finished, Valerie punched in the telephone number they'd given her.
Her call was picked up on the first ring.

"Dr. Rochelle," she said.

"Dr. Rochelle," a man said, "this is Santo
Ducci at Stonelair. We have a sick horse out here, and we wondered
if you could come take a look."

"I'll be there in about fifteen or twenty
minutes."

"Thanks a lot," the man said.

Valerie pressed the end button and quickly
placed her cell phone in the big leather and canvas carryall that
went everywhere with her. She walked over to the bathroom door. She
hesitated a moment before tapping on it.

There was no response, and she knocked a
little louder. "Teddy?" she said. "I'm really sorry, but. . . well,
you know this comes with the territory." There was still no
response, and she knocked again. "Teddy?"

She started to open the door when it suddenly
swung open.

He stood there, still naked . . . and so
handsome, she thought, a smile on his lips that exposed his perfect
white teeth. "Come here," he said, holding his arms out. Before
Valerie could move, he stepped forward and hugged her to him.

"I'm the one who's sorry," he whispered.
"I... I shouldn't have reacted that way, but I wanted this to be a
perfect weekend for us." He drew back and looked into her eyes.
"Forgive me?" he said in a little boy voice. "Please?"

Valerie couldn't help but smile, even though
she found his behavior immature and inconsiderate. She'd become
inured to Teddy's little temper tantrums. He was a spoiled rich boy
who couldn't tolerate not getting his way.

She planted a quick kiss on his lips. "Forget
about it," she said, ruffling his hair with her fingertips. "I'm
sorry, too, but I've got to go."

She rushed to the closet, where she grabbed a
pair of Levis, a T-shirt, and a white lab coat. Tossing them on a
chair, she rifled through a dresser until she found bra, panties,
and socks. She began dressing hurriedly as Teddy stood watching
her.

"What's up?" he asked. "Somebody's pooch
miscarry or something?"

She thought she detected a hint of sarcasm in
his voice, but she chose to ignore it. "There's an emergency out at
Stonelair," she replied.

"Stonelair?" he said, his eyes widening.
"You're not going out there, are you?"

"Yes," she said, grabbing a pair of sneakers
from the closet floor.

"Since when did you start working for that
creepy drug lord?"

"Since now," she replied, pulling on her
socks.

"Je-sus, Val!" he cried, his voice angry.
"Isn't that a little stupid? Maybe even a little dangerous, huh?"
He stood staring at her, his body rigid, his eyes bright with
intensity.

She finished tying her sneakers, then got to
her feet, grabbing her carryall and slinging it over her shoulder
in one swift movement.

"Look, Teddy," she said in a determined
voice, "I don't know anything about the people at Stonelair, and
neither do you. I just know that there's a horse out there that's
in trouble, and I've got to go take care of it. It's my duty as a
veterinarian."

"But-but. . . you don't even know what the
hell's going on out there, Val," he sputtered. "I mean, those
people could have a drug lab set up or—"

"I don't care what's going on out there," she
broke in angrily. "There's a sick horse and I'm going to it. And
I'm going now."

As she started for the bedroom door, Teddy
rushed to her, throwing his long, muscular arms around her. "Just a
quick kiss," he said, all sweetness again.

She turned to him and let him kiss her, then
pulled away. "I'm in a hurry, Teddy."

"I know, I know," he said agreeably, nodding.
"So go. Go." He slapped her playfully on the butt.

Valerie headed out of the bedroom and down
the hallway to the staircase.

"Val?" he called as she reached the top of
the stairs.

She quickly glanced back toward the bedroom
door, where he stood, his tall, strong body filling the
doorway.

"I'll be here waiting for you," he said, one
hand shaking his penis at her.

Valerie sputtered helplessly with laughter.
"Oh,
you
," she laughed, then hurried on down the stairs and
out into the dark and stormy night.

Chapter Two

Valerie drove like a woman possessed.
Forgotten now was the lavish dinner and the bedroom frolic. Even
the exquisite canary diamond that still sparkled on her finger went
unnoticed in her haste to get to Stonelair. It was after midnight,
and the summer storm was lashing the countryside.

Valerie could barely make out the road ahead
of her as she raced over the curving country roads. The rain-
drenched landscape was a void of total darkness, except when the
terrifying streaks of lightning rent the sky, momentarily
illuminating the fields and woods and the occasional house and barn
in an eerie glow. The accompanying thunder came in such ferocious
rolling claps that she involuntarily jumped.

"Jeez," she said aloud, "it sounds like it's
coming through the roof." Suddenly she wished that Elvis was with
her to keep her company. She reached over and turned on the radio.
It was the next best thing, she supposed. It was set on the
classical station, and strains of Schubert's piano quintet "The
Trout" filled her ears. She laughed nervously, thinking that
Schubert's trout would be very happy indeed in this weather.

Virtual rivers, washing off the hills, flowed
across the road at points, but the big Jeep negotiated them easily.
On she rolled, hunched over the steering wheel, determined to get
to Stonelair as soon as possible. She'd never ministered to this
particular horse before, but from what she'd heard over the
cellular, it didn't sound good. And she never knew when she might
be too late.

She slowed down when her headlights picked
out the stone walls that surrounded the old estate. She seldom
drove on this remote stretch of road, but she remembered that
somewhere along here were the big iron gates.
Why would I
remember that?
she wondered.
Maybe it's because these gates
have always looked so forbidding. Like they really meant "Stay
Out."

"Oops!" she said aloud. "There it is." She'd
just passed them on her right.

She shoved her foot on the brake, skidding
slightly, then had to back up a few feet, thankful that there
wasn't any traffic on the road. She swung the Jeep onto the
blacktop drive that led up to the huge stone piers with their black
gates. They'd told her that there would be a column with a
push-button speaker in the middle of the drive, and now she saw it.
She pulled over next to it, rolled down her window, and pressed the
speaker button. The sleeve of her lab coat was instantly drenched,
and rain lashed into the car, splattering her face and hair as
well.

A man's voice asked who it was.
Who the
devil are they expecting after midnight?
she thought. "Dr.
Rochelle," she replied, raising her voice to be heard above the
rain.

"When you come to the Y in the road," the
disembodied voice said, "take the one to the left. It leads to the
stables."

Then the speaker went dead, and the gates
slowly began to swing open. At the same time, she saw that video
cameras were mounted on the stone piers. They appeared to focus
their eyes upon her like alien monsters in a sci-fi movie.

What the hell is all this security
about?
she wondered. Most of the horse owners hereabouts didn't
have any security at all, and the handful who owned extremely
valuable animals usually had nothing more than an alarm system in
the stables. But then, she reminded herself, she didn't know these
people. She did know that they'd paid a fortune for the vast,
somewhat rundown estate, and she had heard rumors that they'd spent
another fortune sprucing it up. Stonelair, a white elephant with
huge taxes and impossibly large spaces to heat, had sat vacant for
years until these people had come along from out of nowhere.

Ah, the follies of the extremely rich
,
she thought as she sped down the narrow blacktop lane toward the
house.
And the paranoia!

The road was lined on both sides with
enormous evergreens—spruce, pine, and hemlock—with rhododendrons
tucked in front of them next to the road. On ahead a hundred feet,
she spotted the Y in the road, and when she came to it, she veered
to the left as the voice had instructed her. The road apparently
circled around the mansion and toward the back of the estate.

In another minute she came to a large parking
area. On her left she could make out what was definitely a stone
stable block. She slammed on her brakes and killed the engine.
Grabbing her carryall, she jumped out of the car and hurried around
to the rear. Opening the door, she took out her heavy medical
bag.

She turned to dash toward the stable.

"Oh, my God!" she gasped.

A giant stood poised in her path. He had
appeared from out of nowhere, without a sound, at least none that
she could detect over the driving rain and wind.

"Sorry," she said, quickly recovering her
composure. "I didn't hear you." She surmised that he must be a
benign giant, because he held an umbrella aloft and was opening
another one for her. She took it from him, glad for the shelter
from the rain.

"Dr. Rochelle?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, nodding her head.

"Santo Ducci," the man said. He didn't extend
a hand to shake. "This way," he said with a slight nod of his head.
Without another word he began walking toward the stable.

Valerie quickly fell in step beside him,
taking sidelong glances at her decidedly odd escort. His head was
completely shaved, and he had a black mustache and small goatee. In
his ear was a large gold ring.

Mr. Clean
, she couldn't help thinking.
As they moved, his body was a study in rippling musculature. Tree
trunk arms and legs to match, six-pack abs, a chest from here to
yon.
Jeez, a human HumVee
. But then, she decided, she must
make a rather odd picture herself: hair practically plastered to
her head, wet jeans, T-shirt, and lab coat, and shoes that were
already nearly soaked through.

They quickly reached the stable, and he
opened a door and held it for her. Valerie stepped into a truly
luxurious office. Mahogany-paneled walls, an old Tabriz rug on the
floor, handsome old leather-upholstered couches and chairs, a huge
mahogany table that served as a desk, and, the only giveaways that
she was in the twenty-first century: a computer, printer, fax
machine, and filing cabinets.

She closed her umbrella and put it in the old
iron stand by the doorway. "Which way do we go?" she asked, in a
hurry to get to the sick horse.

"Over this way," he answered. He led her
through a door into a tack room. Its walls were covered with riding
accessories: saddles, bridles, reins, breastplates and collars,
jawbands, browbands, nosebands, halters, leads, and on and on, all
of it, Valerie noticed, leather and brass alike, gleaming from the
polish of meticulous care. From the tack room he led her through
another door and out into the stable proper. Valerie calculated
that there must be at least thirty stalls in the immaculately kept
space, but her attention immediately switched to the air of
anxiety, of instinctual nervousness, that she sensed about the
stable tonight.

The storm
, she thought.
The
lightning and thunder have them on edge
.

Then she heard it, above the sounds of the
storm and the restlessness of the other horses: the sound of an
animal in acute distress.
That only increases the nervousness of
the rest of them
, she thought.

Without waiting for Ducci, she quickened her
pace, heading in the direction of the sound. When she reached the
stall, she looked in through the barred opening in the stall door
and saw the magnificent Arabian stallion, to all appearances of
excellent bloodlines, lying on its side though tethered to the
stall. In its pain it might do harm to itself, so they'd tied it
down. She could see that the horse had been rolling in agony and
was sheathed in sweat.

She set down her carryall and medical bag and
started to open the door to the stall, but the giant grabbed her
arm from behind.

"Wait!" he said with alarm. "You're liable to
get hurt. He's an extremely high-strung animal and could be
dangerous like this. Hadn't you better try to sedate him or
something first?"

Valerie turned to him. "He's tethered, and I
know something about what I'm doing. Just back off a little bit,"
she said calmly. "Let me be alone with him for a few minutes."