To Darkness and to Death (20 page)

Of course. She was an idiot. She reached into her minuscule backseat, tugged her knapsack into her lap, and reached inside for her phone. She turned it on and was greeted by a blank “no signal.” She hissed in frustration. Typical of the mountains. “Look,” she said to the man, “we’ll drive back to Haudenosaunee and use the phone there. That way, we can tell the young woman’s brother she’s been found. Will you stay here to meet the ambulance?”

“Course I will. Hurry,” the hunter said, unnecessarily.

“Hang on,” Clare told Lisa. She reversed the Shelby and tromped on the gas pedal, fishtailing out of the dirt access road. She zoomed back up the mountain highway. Swinging past the stone pillars marking Haudenosaunee’s entrance, she accelerated up the dirt road, her small car jouncing and shuddering. She roared into the gravel drive, skidding to a stop in a shower of small stones and clearly alarming Eugene van der Hoeven, who was crossing from the house to the pathway that led into the woods. He had on a coat, with a small day pack slung over his shoulder. Joining the searchers after the tumultuous events of the morning.

“Reverend Fergusson?” He strode across the drive.

“Some hunters have found your sister,” she said, tumbling out of the Shelby. “I need to use your phone.”

“What?” He paled, his scarred face half-twisting in concern. “Is she… ?”

She shook her head, her hair flying out of its knot at the back of her head. “She’s not dead, but she’s been hurt. The hunters who found her are afraid to move her. We need to get an ambulance.”

Eugene stared at her. “Where was she? How did they find her?”

“She’s on one of the access roads, not far from here.” She jerked her thumb to where Lisa was sitting white-faced in the car. “Your housekeeper says it’s where her husband’s timber company keeps its machines.”

“Good God.” Van der Hoeven turned to look at the trail-head that opened between the house and the garage. He turned back to Clare. “Is she… conscious?”

“The phone?”

He shook himself. “Of course. God, what am I thinking?” He bounded toward the porch, took the steps two at a time, and threw open the door. He pointed toward the den. “Will you call it in? Since you know exactly where she is?”

Clare dialed 911 and described the location and what little she had heard of the young woman’s injuries. She hung up, turned, and nearly collided with van der Hoeven.

“You didn’t—you didn’t see her yourself?” His face had regained its control, but he still sounded like a man in shock.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“So you don’t know what happened to her? Was it an accident? Was she attacked?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know.” She laid her hand on his arm. “Look, I need to take your housekeeper home. Why don’t I meet you in the hospital afterward?” She hoped his agoraphobia wasn’t going to prevent him from going to his sister’s bedside.

“The hospital,” he said.

“I could…” Clare searched for a way to make her offer tactful. “I could come back and drive you. Bad news has a way of scattering your concentration. It makes it hard to do ordinary tasks, like making phone calls or driving. I’d be happy to help.”

His eyes snapped into focus. “No,” he said. “Thank you. I can make it to the hospital. I was just thinking that I need to contact the search team first and let them know.” He shouldered the day pack he had slipped to the floor while she was on the phone. “Let’s go.”

Outside, she paused at the foot of the porch stairs. “I’ll meet you at the hospital as soon as I can.”

“Yes.”

Eugene trotted around the house and was out of sight before Clare made it back to her car. “He’s going to tell the search and rescue team Millie’s been found,” she said to Lisa, buckling her seat belt. “Let’s go tell that hunter help is on the way.” Clare careened down the Haudenosaunee drive with Lisa bracing herself against the door and dashboard. The Shelby bumped up and down so violently during the brief trip, it probably shortened its life span by at least a year. Even so, it still felt like too long by the time she pulled up next to the hunter guarding the dirt roadway.

“The ambulance is on its way,” Clare said through her open window. “Do you need any help?”

“No, thanks,” he said. “My friend Billy’s kind of a pain in the ass, but he’s good at first aid. We’ll keep a watch on her until the paramedics get here. There’s no need for you to stay.”

“Her name’s Millie van der Hoeven.”

“You mean, like
the
van der Hoevens?” He looked around him, as if more members of the Social Register might charge out of the woods. “Geez, this whole place belongs to them.” He returned his gaze to Clare, looking somewhat embarrassed at his starstruck moment. “Don’t you worry. Billy and I’d take good care of her no matter who she was.”

12:40 P.M.

The ambulance siren startled Shaun Reid. He slowed, coasting to the side of the otherwise deserted county road. The ambulance swung round the bend ahead and flew past in a whirl of lights and sound. Heading away from the mountains, toward Millers Kill and the Washington County Hospital. He pulled back onto the highway for the last mile or so to his destination. He was just about to turn into the private road leading to Haudenosaunee when a rusting Jeep Cherokee bounced into view. Shaun once more steered his car to the side of the road; the last thing he wanted was to tangle with a driver that wouldn’t care if his vehicle gave the Mercedes tetanus. After the jeep rattled down the mountain highway, Shaun pulled into Haudenosaunee’s road, only to come head to head with another truck, this one a pickup that evidently needed more than the usual number of tires.

Both drivers edged as close to the enclosing screen of trees as possible and proceeded at a crawl. Shaun powered down his window and gestured to the other driver, a youngish man whose hair, cropped like a marine’s, contrasted with his earring.

“What’s going on?” Shaun asked. “This place is supposed to be as isolated as a monastery, but today there’s more traffic than on the Northway.”

“We’re part of the search and rescue team,” the man said. “Are you a family friend?”

“Business acquaintance.” That was true. He had occasionally dealt with the late Mr. van der Hoeven over the years. “I’m here to see Eugene van der Hoeven.”

“Mr. Van der Hoeven’s sister Millie went missing last night. We’ve had a team here since dawn, looking for her.”

Shit. It would fit in with his current run of luck, wouldn’t it. Van der Hoeven probably wouldn’t even be able to see him. “That’s terrible,” he said with feeling.

“No, she’s been found, which is good, but she’s been hurt. Mr. van der Hoeven was still at home when we left, but he’ll probably be taking off for the hospital any minute now.”

Shaun, digesting the news, barely managed to thank the other driver as he rolled up his window and continued up the road. If that had been van der Hoeven’s sister in the ambulance, as seemed likely, he didn’t have much time to meet the man and make his pitch. Unfortunately, a succession of hulking SUVs and pickups retreating down the road required him to keep wedging his car between their mud-spattered sides and the trees. By the time he reached the gravel expanse of Haudenosaunee’s drive, his hands were clenched and his head pounding. His mood wasn’t improved any when, after parking, he circled his Mercedes and found several fresh scrapes on the passenger side.

Shaun stomped across the gravel and up the porch steps. He paused before ringing the bell, giving himself a moment to get into the right frame of mind. Cheerful. Upbeat. This would only take a moment. He had something to offer that was going to make Mr. van der Hoeven a very happy man. He leaned into the doorbell, then rocked back on his heels. Cheerful. Upbeat.

He glanced around while he was waiting. The so-called great camp wasn’t very impressive. Oh, it was sizable, all right, but if he had had the van der Hoeven money, he’d have put in one of those big, two-story-high windows and decorated the porch with brass lights and done some first-class landscaping. Look at the door, for chrissakes. It was right out of
Little House on the Prairie
.

The plain door swung open so suddenly he forgot to be Cheerful and Upbeat. “Uh,” he said.

Eugene van der Hoeven stood precisely halfway in and halfway out. He was dressed for the outdoors, in a dark sweater and pants topped by a blaze-orange hunting jacket. His face was tilted, so that one side was less visible than the other, but what Shaun could see was enough. He had heard about van der Hoeven’s boyhood accident, but Christ, he hadn’t expected it to be so…

“May I help you?” Van der Hoeven’s voice was chilly.

Shaun pasted on a smile and stuck out his hand. “Mr. van der Hoeven? I’m Shaun Reid, president and CEO of Reid-Gruyn Pulp and Paper.”

“Mr. Reid,” Eugene said sharply. He closed his mouth and started again, his voice softer, his irritation controlled. “Mr. Reid. I’m sorry, but you’ve caught me at a bad time.”

“I understand,” Shaun said. “I heard about your sister. I’m so sorry she’s been hurt. I certainly don’t want to keep you. However, if you could spare me just a few minutes of your time, you won’t regret it. I have a business proposal for you that will benefit us both.”

Van der Hoeven managed to peer at Shaun without turning his head and revealing his scars straight on. “Are you sure you’re the president? Of Reid-Gruyn? The same company that owns the mill?”

Shaun raised his hand. “I swear. I’m not trying to sell you vacuum cleaners or life insurance.”

Eugene stepped into the house. Shaun stood, paralyzed. What had just happened? Was he supposed to come in? He took a step forward and then scrambled backward as van der Hoeven surged out of the door, a backpack over his shoulder.

“I’m on my way out,” van der Hoeven said. “You have five minutes.” He continued past Shaun and down the steps. Shaun clattered after him.

“You and your siblings are selling off the Haudenosaunee lands. I’m guessing there was a problem with your father’s estate planning and that you all owed a lot more in taxes than you expected.”

Eugene’s step faltered. He shot a look at Shaun.

“You may have thought only a large operation like GWP could afford to make an offer on your property. Not true. I’m here to propose Reid-Gruyn Pulp and Paper as your partner.”

They came to a stop in front of the three-bay garage. “Reid-Gruyn can afford to purchase a quarter of a million acres?” Eugene said. “I’m impressed.” He bent to lift the garage door.

Shaun wondered if the lack of an electric door opener indicated the van der Hoevens were worse off than he suspected, or if it was more of that old-money-cheaper-than-thou act.

“I was thinking more of fifty thousand acres,” Shaun said, grabbing the edge of the door as it rose and helping it up. “That would still leave two hundred thousand to be preserved in their natural state,” he added, in case van der Hoeven was more of a tree hugger than he thought.

“GWP and the Adirondack Conservancy Corporation want to preserve the whole parcel.” Poised once more between the sunshine outside and the shadow within, van der Hoeven’s face twisted in an expression of disgust. “My family has managed and protected this land for a century and a half, and a fifteen-year-old organization staffed by out-of-state do-gooders and underemployed biologists believes it can do a better job.” He snorted. “I’d like to see the nonprofit that can hang together for as long as the van der Hoevens have.”

Yes
. This was it, this was what Shaun had been looking for. A kindred soul, who understood that it wasn’t about the business. It wasn’t about the money. It was about stewardship. Accepting the responsibility from the previous generation, holding it for the next.

Unwarmed by the day’s sunshine, the interior of the garage was dank and cold. The first two bays held a Land Cruiser and a Volkswagen Beetle and smelled of oil and old packed earth. The third bay stored wicker lawn furniture, a garden cart, a folded canvas sun umbrella, and an ancient lawn mower. It smelled faintly of Shaun’s eighteenth summer.

Eugene fished a single key from his pocket. Shaun darted past him to the side of the Land Cruiser. “You and I are in the same situation,” he said, hurrying to make the sale before van der Hoeven got into his vehicle and drove away. “We both head family concerns. And both of us are being pushed by people who think GWP will do a better job than we can. I don’t want to take Haudenosaunee land away from your family. I want to go into partnership. Reid-Gruyn will manage the timber harvest, and the van der Hoevens will continue to protect the land as they see fit.”

Eugene sidled past him and opened the driver’s door.

“Except unlike a onetime payment that you’ll receive from GWP, our partnership will provide a steady stream of income.”

One foot in the truck, van der Hoeven paused. “How’s that?”

“The sale will be in cash and stock. The van der Hoevens will become part owners in Reid-Gruyn. Hell, between our two families, we could take the company private again.”

“I’m not a businessman, Mr. Reid. I have no interest in running a company. And our family investments are very well managed by A. G. Edwards and Sons.”

“You don’t have to be a businessman. You have the natural resource. I have the experience.” Shaun inched closer. “Do you really want to sign over all control of your land to the Adirondack Conservancy Corporation? Those people will micromanage your home so thoroughly you won’t be able to plant a tulip or burn off a caterpillar nest.”

Eugene opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. “It doesn’t matter. The land isn’t going to be sold.”

Shaun felt his jaw hanging open. He scrambled for solid footing. “What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. We won’t be signing over any control to anyone.”

Shaun was baffled. “But a representative of GWP spoke with my board members just two days ago. He was confident the deal was going through.” It had been the man’s assurance that had scuttled his remaining support on the board.

He gathered his proof. “And my son works for the Algonquin Waters. He just stopped by this morning to talk to me about the banquet tonight. My wife and I are attending.”