White Mountain (36 page)

Jack locked the door, then turned toward the bed.

She took a deep breath and then stepped out of her slacks.

Jack dropped his towel.

Jack’s hair was still damp when he descended the stairs, and the bemused smile he was wearing said a lot for his state of mind.
 
He found Travis and his men in the dining room, polishing off pie and coffee.

When Travis saw Jack enter the dining room, he stood, eyeing Dolan’s casual saunter as he came toward them.

The shook hands, then Jack nodded to the other men nearby.

“Dolan...it’s been a while.”

“A couple of years, at least.
 
Where was it?
 
Chicago?”

“Boston.
 
The Berringer kidnapping.”

“Oh yes.
 
Though case.
 
Let’s hope this one has a better ending.”

“You’re in charge,” Travis said.
 
“Just fill us in.”

“Let’s move this outside, where we’ll have a little more privacy.”

Travis grinned.
 
“Yeah, there’s a whole hell of a lot of privacy out there.
 
Except for deer and raccoons, you’ve pretty much got the place to yourselves.”

“Except for the recent appearance of the red skunk you’re going to help me find.”

“My men are the best there is.
 
If he’s still on the mountain, we’ll get him,” Travis said.

“I need you to make that happen,” Jack said.
 
“He’s killed once and, for resons we don’t understand, is targeting Mess Abbott, whom you already met.”

Travis looked at Jack.

“She’s stunning.”

“Yeah.”

“Her portrait is a real eye catcher, too.”

“That’s not her.
 
It’s her mother.”

Travis frowned.
 
“Wow!
 
How do you tell them apart.”

“Her mother is dead,” Jack said.
 
“I’d like to make sure the same thing doesn’t happen to Isabella.”

“Something personal?”

Jack ignored the question.

Travis grinned.

“The office frowns on fraternization with suspects, you know.”

“She’s not a suspect, she’s a victim, and it’s also none of your business,” Jack muttered.

Travis laughed and slapped Jack on the shoulder.

“So tell us about who we’re looking for and we’ll be out of your very damp hair.”

Jack grinned.
 
“Go to hell.”

“Headin’ that way,” Travis said.
 
“Just point us in the right direction.”

A short while later, Isabella came out of her room and headed down the hall.
 
Her expression was drawn, her eyes welling with tears.

Jack back inside the hotel, saw her coming and smile, but the moment he saw her face, his smile slipped away.

“Sweetheart…what’s wrong?”

“I just got a call from a friend in town.”

“And?”

“Oh…it’s about someone you don’t know.
 
His name was John Running Horse and—“

“But I do know him,” Jack said.
 
“I talked to him only a couple of days ago.
 
He was saying something about getting a guitar and going to Nashville…or Memphis.
 
And he was talking about his mother.”

“Yes, that’s him,” she said.
 
“He’s dead.”

“What happened?” Jack asked.

“He was hitchhiking…at least, they think hw was…and he got hit by a car.”
 
She sighed.
 
“I guess he was finally on his way to Memphis.”

“That’s too bad,” Jack said.
 
“At least now he’ll be with his mother.
 
A lady at the drugstore told me she’d been dead for years.”

Isabella nodded.
 
“It’s so sad.
 
Makes you wonder why some people are born whole, while others are missing tiny bits.”

“Was he your friend?” Jack asked.

She shrugged.
 
“He didn’t know how to have friends,” she said softly.
 
“But I knew him, and I’m so sorry he’s dead.”

Jack hugged her, because there was nothing else he could do.
 
As he walked her into the lobby, he couldn’t help wondering about her state of mind.
 
There had been far too much death in her life as it was, and he feared the worst wasn’t over yet.

David saw them together and started to turn away, but Isabella waved him over.

“Uncle David…I’ve just received the saddest news,” she said.

“What is it?” he asked.

“You know John Running Horse?”

David’s expression stilled.

“Yes, of course.
 
What happened?”

“He’s dead.”

David’s shoulders slumped, and Jack would have sworn he heard the old man grunt.

“How?” David asked.

“He was hitchhiking and got hit by a car.
 
They think he was finally on his way to Memphis.
 
The woman who called me said he was halfway to Butte when it happened.”

“Oh Lord,” David mumbled.
 
“What a waste…what a waste.”

Isabella hugged him, then patted his face.

“We’re going out onto the terrace for a while.
 
Would you like to join us?”

“No.
 
You don’t need a chaperone.
 
Go enjoy yourselves.
 
Life is far too short.”

Isabella nodded, then glanced at Jack.
 
He slipped his hand beneath her elbow and led her through the dining room.

David watched them for a moment and then turned away.
 
He needed to find the others and give them the news.

Vasili Rostov was standing on the edge of a ravine with his binoculars, scanning the valley below.
 
Something was happening at the hotel, and he didn’t think it had anything to do with the arrival of new guests.

Four all-terrain vehicles and two large gray vans were parked in the lot, and there were at least a dozen men milling about, wearing what appeared to be army gear.
 
Even from this distance, he could tell they were armed.
 
Cursing himself for ever getting mixed up in this mess, he watched as they loaded up and headed toward the foot of White Mountain.
 
A short while later they disappeared from view, but he knew what would come next.
 
They would disperse into search teams.
 
When that happened, he had better be gone.

Wasting no time making his decision, he picked up his gear and started moving downward, veering left as he walked, constantly moving away from the last place he’d seen the men.
 
As he walked, he kept pondering his options.
 
He could get out now, go back to Russia and suffer the consequences.
 
But the thought of spending his last years in disgraced exile disgusted him.
 
He’d spent his life in service to his country and even given up a hard-won retirement to carry out this mission for Mother Russia.
 
He wasn’t going to give her the rest of his life just because of one old man’s untimely death.

There was also Brighton Beach.
 
It was a place where a man like him could get lost.
 
It wouldn’t take much to change his appearance.
 
If he shaved his head and kept growing his beard, he would be completely unrecognizable.
 
But there was the question of money.
 
What he’d come with was almost gone.

He’d made a mistake going after the woman.
 
He knew that now.
 
She was obviously valuable enough to the men, but she was also too visible.
 
Getting a hostage out of a hotel full of guests and remaining undetected wasn’t going to happen up here.
 
There was no city to get lost in, no traffic to slow everyone down.
 
The wide-open spaces that housed few inhabitants also afforded little cover in which to hide.
 
There were only the trees and the mountains, and in a situation like that, two men with some good tracking dogs could find them within hours.

But he still had the diary.
 
There had to be something to be gained from it.
 
As he walked, it slowly came to him, and by the time he reached the foothills, he knew exactly what he was going to do.

It was sundown when Rostov reached the valley.
 
Staying well within the trees, he circled the rear of the hotel grounds until he came to the old gardener’s shed.
 
Confident it would be the last place where they would look for him, he slipped inside and tossed his things beneath a work bench.
 
With one last look toward the hotel to make sure he’d gotten in unobserved, he went to his old room, then shoved a chair beneath the knob and crawled onto the bed.
 
There was just enough time to rest before he put his plan into motion.

Isabella entered the dining room just as the waitress who’d taken her uncles’ orders was leaving.
 
When they saw her, they smiled and waved her over.

“Darling…won’t you join us?” David asked.

“I’d love to,” she said, and then let her gaze rest on Thomas, who’d been released from the hospital earlier that day.

“Uncle Thomas, are you sure you’re up to this?
 
I could bring a tray to your room if you’d rather.”

“No, dear, I’m fine, and I’m sorry I gave everyone such a scare.
 
Nothing’s wrong with me except old age.”

She smiled, but looking around the table at their dear, familiar faces made her heart ache.
 
She’d thought she knew these men as well as she knew herself, and now, for the first time in her life, she felt as if she were looking at strangers.

“I’ll just catch the waitress and give her my order.
 
Be back in a few,” she said.

As soon as she was gone, they huddle.

“She’s upset with us,” Jasper said.
 
“I could tell it when she and that Dolan man came to pick us up at the hospital.”

John frowned.
 
“I don’t think so.
 
She’s just upset at the whole situation.
 
She has no reason to be upset with us.”

David shook his head.
 
“Oh, but she does,” he muttered.
 
“She’s not stupid, and that Federal agent is bound to have said some things to her that she doesn’t understand.
 
God only knows what he found out, but one thing’s for sure, he knows about Frank.”

“Why do you say that?” Rufus asked.

“He was looking right at me when he announced that the man who killed Frank was Russian.
 
He was watching for my reaction.
 
That tells me he suspects a lot more than he can prove.”

“Then what are we going to do?” Thomas asked.

“I don’t know,” David said.
 
“If you come up with any ideas, let me know.”

“We could always disappear again,” Jasper said.

The other four moaned in unison.

“We’re too old,” Thomas said.

“And there’s Isabella,” David added.
 
“We are not going to abandon her.”

“I don’t think she would be alone,” John said.
 
“She’s getting involved with Dolan.”

“How do you know that?” Thomas asked.

“She spent the night in his room after the attack.”

“Yes, but did you ever think it could be because he felt she needed to be guarded?” Rufus asked.

“She likes him,” David said.
 
“I’ve known that for days.”

Rufus leaned closer, lowering his voice even more.

“Do you think it’s mutual?”

David watched Isabella from across the room.
 
Her elegance was inherent with her beauty.
 
Just like her mother’s had been.

“It it’s not, he’s crazy,” David said.
 
“And by the way, where
is
Dolan?”

“He went with the search team to get them started.
 
Said he was going to show them where he found the Russian knife.
 
But he said he’d be back.
 
Didn’t want to leave Isabella unguarded at night.”

Before they could say anything more on the subject, Isabella returned.
 
She sat down in her chair, groaning softly as she stretched, then leaned back.