White Mountain (38 page)

He reached for the radio and keyed it on.

“Travis…this is Dolan.
 
Over.”

“Travis here.
 
What do you need?”

“I need a favor,” he said.
 
“Have that chopper fly over the hotel and do a thorough sweep of the grounds, especially the surrounding trees.
 
When I left earlier there was only one couple staying in the hotel.
 
The rest of them were staff or just diners who come and go for the food,
 
so there shouldn’t be any outside activity at this time of night.”

“Will do,” Travis said.
 
“Hang tight.
 
I’ll let you know if anything shows.”

“Thanks,” Jack said, and wished he could see well enough to jog.
 
He didn’t like what his gut was telling him, and he was too far away from Isabella to be of any immediate help.

A few minutes later he saw the chopper fly over him and head down the mountain.
 
It stayed high, so as not to alert anyone of the search, and then began to circle.
 
Jack glanced at his watch.
 
It was almost nine-thirty.
 
He
 
hadn’t meant to stay out this long.

He reached for his cell phone again and rang the hotel.
 
Again Delia put him through to the family quarters, and again there was no answer.
 
He clipped the phone back on his belt with a curse.
 
Within minutes, he was off the mountain, but with at least a mile of valley between him and Abbott House.
 
Just being able to see it in the distance made him easier.
 
But the relief didn’t last.

“Dolan…this is Travis.
 
Do you read me?”

Jack grabbed the two-way.
 
“I’m here.”

“The chopper picked up something moving up the east end of the hotel.”

“Up the hotel?
 
What the hell do you mean?”

“I don’t know.
 
It’s just what they said.
 
Short of turning on a spotlight, it’s the best they could do.
 
Hold on a second.”

Jack could hear Travis talking to the chopper pilot on another radio.

“He asks if there’s a fire escape on that side of the building?” Travis said.

Jack’s heart sank.
 
“Yes, damn it, there is.
 
Ask him if he can still see the target.”

Travis repeated Jack’s question to the pilot, then relayed the answer.

“He says whoever it was is no longer outside the building or on the grounds.”

“Son of a bitch,” Jack muttered.
 
“I’ll lay odds it’s our man.”

“What do you want us to do?” Travis asked.

Jack hesitated.
 
If he pulled them off the search only to find it was just one of the uncles or a staff member, it could give Victor Ross the time he needed to escape.
 
But if Ross was already off the mountain…

“Is there any place the chopper can land near the hotel?” Jack asked.

“No.
 
Too many trees,” Travis said.

Jack’s gut knotted.
 
It was left up to him.

“Give me fifteen minutes to check it out first,” he said.
 
“If you don’t hear from me, get down here fast.”

“Will do,” Travis said.
 
“And be careful.”

Jack slipped the two-way back into the case and started to run.
 
It was no big deal for him to run a mile in five or six minutes, but it was dark, and he didn’t know the terrain.
 
Fifteen minutes was cutting it close, but anything more could be putting everyone, including Isabella, at risk.

It was almost a quarter to ten when Isabella started up to David’s room.
 
Ever since dinner, when he’d told her to come up, anticipation had spoiled her from concentrating on anything else.
 
Instead of using the elevator, she took the stairs, too anxious to wait for the lumbering old car to descend.
 
As she reached the third-floor landing, she noticed that two of the bulbs had burned out in the hall and made a mental note to tell housekeeping tomorrow.
 
Her step was light, her heart even lighter, as she hurried to the room at the end.
 
All evening she’d been chastising herself, blaming her distrust of her uncles on everything from grief to Jack Dolan’s arrival.
 
She should have known the uncles wouldn’t keep things from her—unless, of course, it was for her own protection.
 
Now that they realized their secrets had been destructive rather than protective, they were ready to rectify the problem.

She knocked on David’s door.
 
When he called out to her that the door was unlocked, she turned the knob and went in.
 
To her surprise, he was standing by the fireplace, still wearing the clothes he’d had on at dinner.

She crossed the room and kissed him on the cheek.
 
He smelled of aftershave.
 
And something else.
 
Bourbon?
 
She frowned.
 
David Schultz wasn’t much of a drinker, and if he’d had to fortify himself with a shot of whiskey to have this conversation, then maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as she had hoped.

“Uncle David…I would have thought that by now you’d be in your pajamas and robe.”

“Later,” he said, then added a small log to the fire.
 
“Are you warm enough, dear?
 
The nights are getting quite cold.”

She sat in her favorite armchair beside the fireplace, then leaned forward, locking her hands on her knees.

“I’m fine, Uncle David.
 
Sit down and quit fussing.”

He smiled at her then and did as she asked, and Isabella thought what an elegant gentleman David Schultz was.
 
Tall, well-read and dignified, he had always reminded her a bit of Gregory Peck.

“Uncle David?”

David braced himself.
 
“Yes?”

“Can I ask you something rather personal?”

It wasn’t quite what he’d expected, and yet he was hesitant to agree.
 
Still, he’d promised her that they would talk, and if this was the way it was to begin, then so be it.

“Certainly, my dear.
 
Ask away.”

“Why didn’t any of you marry?”

It was the absolute last thing he had expected her to say, and because it took him unawares, he told her the truth.

“I can’t speak for the others, but the only woman I ever wanted to marry was already married to your father.”

Horrified that she’d brought up something that was obviously painful for him, she couldn’t do anything but stutter.

“Oh…Uncle David…I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have—“

He laughed.
 
“It’s all right, dear.
 
Everyone knew it…including your mother.
 
You see, it wasn’t as if your father and I had fought for her hand or anything quite so dramatic.
 
It’s just that when I met Isabella, she was already married to Samuel.
 
I wasn’t the only one who succumbed to her charms.
 
I think Jasper was quite taken with her, too.”

Isabella smiled.

“There!
 
That smile!” David said, pointing at her face.
 
“It’s hers all over.
 
And it’s the first and last thing about her that I choose to remember.”

“Were you there when she died?” Isabella asked.

David’s expression changed.
 
Isabella imagined she could see his mind sliding back through time.

“Yes.
 
I delivered you.”

Isabella’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“I don’t think I knew that.”

HE shrugged.
 
“It was a long time ago, and death comes to all of us.
 
Each in our own time.”

“Do you really believe that?” she asked.

He stared into the fire for what seemed to Isabella like an eternity; then he nodded.

“Yes, I believe I do.”

“Then you’re telling me that when Uncle Frank was murdered in Brighton Beach, it was his time to die?”

David made himself look at her face before he answered.
 
Everything hinged on the fact that she must believe what he said.

“I believe in fate, Isabella.
 
Therefore, I believe that it was Frank’s time to die, and in the manner in which it happened.”

“Do you think the man who killed him was the Russian Jack is looking for?”

The closer he stayed to the truth, the better off he would be.

“Probably.
 
I think your Mr. Dolan is a very capable man and knows what he’s doing.”

“Why would that man come here after me?
 
What could he possibly hope to gain?
 
It’s not like I’m worth anything special.”

David stood abruptly, suddenly towering over her chair.

“Don’t ever say that,” he said.
 
“You are worth the world to all of us, and you always have been.
 
We’ve loved you as if you were our own child since the moment you took your first breath.”
 
Then his voice gentled.
 
“Maybe even before that.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.
 
“I didn’t mean that to come out quite as pitifully as it sounded.
 
What I meant to say was that anyone hoping to gain money from my ransom would be out of luck.”

He laid a hand on the top of her hair, as if settling himself by a mere touch.

“And I’m sorry, too.
 
I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”

She stood, then laid her head against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body and the comfort of his embrace as he pulled her into his arms.

“Tell me about the picture, Uncle David.”

She felt him take a deep breath, then exhale ona great sigh.
 
As he did, she looked up.

“What is there to tell, dear?
 
I haven’t seen it, but I’m guessing it was simply a picture of us boarding a plane.
 
We did travel some back in our earlier days.”

She frowned.
 
“Then why would that picture in particular be of any consequence to the FBI?”

“I couldn’t really say.
 
Didn’t you ask Mr. Dolan?”

“You know I did.
 
I told you he wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“Then maybe there’s nothing to tell.”

She stared, unable to believe he was doing it again.

“You’re talking in circles, Uncle David.
 
Just once, can’t you answer a question without asking another?”

Before he could speak, the door flew open and Vasili Rostov was in the room.

“How perfect,” he said, then shut the door behind him.

Isabella screamed and started to run toward the phone when Rostov pulled a gun.

“Stop now or I shoot!” he yelled.

“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot! For God’s sake, don’t shoot!” David shouted, and threw himself in front of Isabella.

They went down in a tangle of arms and legs, but Rostov grabbed Isabella’s arm and yanked her up from the floor.

“You keep quiet or I swear I will kill him,” he said, pointing the gun at David.

Isabella was shaking so hard she could hardly stand.

“Don’t hut him,” she whispered.
 
“I won’t say a word.”

“Then sit,” he said, pushing her into a chair.
 
“And you!
 
Sit beside her where I can see you both.”

David crawled to his feet and then sat on the arm of Isabella’s chair.
 
He could feel her trembling and knew she was scared to death, but all he could think was that if he hadn’t asked her to come to his room, she would have been safe.

“Who are you, and what do you want?” David asked.

Rostov smiled.
 
“Why…I’m the gardener, aren’t I, Miss Abbott?”

Isabella didn’t answer.
 
She was afraid if she opened her mouth, she would scream.
 
Oh God…oh God…keep us safe.

Rostov waved the gun toward David.

“You…call the other men…the ones she calls the uncles.
 
Tell them to come here now.
 
And if you give me away, I’ll shoot her where she sits.”

“Yes, yes, I will,” David said.
 
“Just leave her alone.”

Rostov’s eyes narrowed in pleasure as the old man went to the phone.
 
This was more than he could have hoped for.
 
Surely it proved his luck was turning.