CHAPTER 47
Victoria
“I’m here, Millicent.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m leaving. Please arrange for the Renaissance jet to pick me up. I’ll pack and get a ride into Sweetbriar right away.”
“Um, your dad took the jet last night.”
“Where?”
“No idea. He didn’t tell anyone where he was headed.”
I go to the walk-in closet and start throwing stuff into my suitcases, wondering if I might be able to convince Declan to fly me back in the StellaR Tech jet. If he were part of the private investigator thing, of course he won’t.
“Just find me another plane or a rental car or a train ticket or, hell, I’ll roller skate back to San Diego if I have to.” I continue dumping clothes into my bags. “What else did these men ask you? What did you tell them? Did they threaten you in any way?”
“No, they weren’t threatening, just pushy.
I told them exactly nothing, but they kept on asking questions.
Like, what was her reaction when she saw Sulfur Springs?
What was her approach to the BLM meeting?
Once Yosemite Ranch dropped their claim, did she ask you to file the new lease agreement between BLM and Renaissance Empowered? ”
The pair of shoes I held in my hand thudded to the floor. “What the fuck was that last part?”
“I know, right? What are they even talking about? I never saw any lease between the Bureau of Land Management and Renaissance. The research we got never mentioned anything at all about Yosemite leasing land.”
“Millicent, this… I have no idea what… Let me start over.” I rake my fingers through my hair and try to stay calm. I have to focus. “I was sent out here without any information about a lease. I was asked to negotiate a new contract after the brother who handles that sort of thing was injured.”
“Got you.”
“I did exactly as I was asked, only I got better terms for the MacLaines. That sucker was negotiated, signed off on, and sent for processing. What the hell do they mean by Renaissance having a lease? We don’t have a lease!”
“I don’t know. I thought you could make sense of it.”
“I can’t.”
I thank Millicent and tell her I’ll call if I need help getting to the bottom of this mess. Then I call my father. He doesn’t pick up.
My head throbs. My chest hurts. So, is this why Cal’s acting like such an asshole? He thinks I did something to botch Yosemite’s land lease? That’s how little trust he has in me?
How little he thinks of me?
I finish packing. I roll my suitcases out the front door and leave them on the porch.
When I step back inside, Sarah and Ripley are sitting side by side, ears perked, their soft brown eyes puzzled.
“Ah, I know. This sucks, and I wish it didn’t have to be this way.
” I kneel down in front of them and pull their fuzzy heads close to me.
Maybe when I get home I’ll think about getting a dog. Or a cat. Maybe a fish.
I hole up in the guest room for hours, working through a rotten headache to figure out what happened with the contract.
I call my father—no answer. I review my notes.
I review the terms. I review the final version I sent for processing.
Nowhere is there mention of Yosemite dropping their claim to the leased land or Renaissance picking it up.
Of course not.
I call my father again. No answer. I leave him a message that leaves little to the imagination. “You need to tell me what’s going on with the Yosemite BLM land. Right now.”
I hear the door to the back deck slide open. I run out into the great room to see Cal kicking off his boots and taking off his hat. It looks as if he’s been out riding the range, or whatever it is they do around here.
“You have a lot of nerve, Cal.”
He turns slowly, then wipes his face with a shirtsleeve.
It creates a clean streak on his cheek. I’d probably find it charming if I didn’t hate him at the moment.
“Spare me,” he snarls, heading into the kitchen.
He grabs a big glass from the cabinet, fills it with water from the tap, and starts chugging.
Before he’s done, I’m right next to him, my hands balled in fists at my sides. “For some reason, you thought it was okay to spy on me?”
He shrugs. “Would have saved everyone a lot of grief if I’d done it at the start, am I right?”
“You sent private eyes to the home of my assistant! In what world is that acceptable?”
His lips curl into a sneer. “Your world, baby. The world of acquisitions and mergers and vulture capitalists.”
“It’s venture capitalists.”
“Not when you and your daddy are involved.”
He sets the glass on the counter and turns to go. I grab his arm. “Don’t you dare walk away. You had no right to spy on me or the people who work for me. That’s low.”
He looks down at where my fingers clutch at his denim sleeve. His shoulders move up and down as he breathes hard. “Excuse me.” His voice is flat. “I need to take a shower. Gotta get the stink of betrayal off me.” He takes a step toward his wing of the house.
“Stop right fucking there!” My voice is so commanding that it’s jarring to my own ears.
“We’re not going to do this today, Cal. I’ve had all the strong and silent routine that I can handle.
You’re going to turn around, look me in the eye, and tell me what it is that you think I did to you. Let’s get all this out in the open.”
Very slowly, he spins on his sock feet. His chin is dropped toward his chest. Two arched brows hover over eyes of blue-black ice. “You fucked us over, Victoria. You set us up and knocked us down.”
“How? How exactly did I do that?”
“By stealing our BLM lease to get your hands on Sulfur Springs for cheap.”
My eyes widen in comprehension. “Wait. You actually think—”
“Oh, I know, sweet cheeks. I saw the documents you drew up. Sulfur Springs would be damn near worthless as a lone parcel surrounded on all sides by public lands. We’ve held the BLM lease for a hundred years, connecting Sulfur Springs to the rest of Yosemite Ranch.”
“I realize that. So you think I did what, exactly?”
“You snatched the lease from us. Your daddy now owns the only access to a seriously devalued Sulfur Springs, which he wants to buy, and Yosemite just lost about a fourth of its total grazing acreage.”
My cheeks heat up. “I didn’t do this, Cal.”
He frowns. “Sure you did, Miss Backlund. But there’s a catch.”
I shake my head. My brain is humming. I’m missing something here, and I can’t quite grasp it.
Cal continues. “What a scavenger zombie holding company like yours couldn’t plan for is the value of relationships.
The MacLaines have a longstanding friendship with the BLM.
They sat up and noticed when we released claim to land we’ve leased since Herbert Hoover was in the White House.
So they’ve delayed approval of the lease until they get clarification from us that it’s what we want. Your plan is falling apart.”
“Uh, that’s…” I rest my hands on my hips. I have the sneaking suspicion that this is some sort of test. “Friendships are nice and all, but that’s a load of bullshit, Cal. The only thing the government cares about is whether the check clears, not whose name is on it.”
I see something move across his face. Some of the cockiness disappears and he’s recalibrating. “Whatever you say. I need a shower.”
“You don’t believe me.”
He chuckles. “Nope, I do not.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“That would be correct.”
“You think I want to cheat you out of your family’s legacy, out of the thing that means more to the MacLaines—and you personally—than anything in the world.”
He points at me. “I knew you’d catch on.”
“Listen up.” I stomp toward him and smack my palm into his chest. “I did absolutely nothing of the sort, and I can prove it to you. Let me grab my laptop. Put your boots on and meet me on the deck.”