by Dinah McCall
“Abbott House.”
“Delia, this is Jack Dolan. I need to speak to Isabella.”
“She’s not in the office, Mr. Dolan. I think she’s in the dining room having dinner with her uncles.”
“Would you please check? I’ll hold.”
“Certainly.”
He heard her lay the phone down, then heard the sound of her footsteps as she crossed the lobby floor. A minute passed, and than another. Just when he thought Delia had forgotten him, she was back.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Dolan. She’d already left the dining room. Maybe she’s in the family quarters. If you’ll hold, I’ll transfer your call.”
Again Jack waited and counted the number of rings, but Isabella didn’t answer. The hair rose on the back of his neck as the tenth ring came and went. He kept telling himself that she could be anywhere…even in the shower. Just because one woman couldn’t find her and she didn’t answer her phone, that didn’t mean she was in danger.
But even as he clipped the phone back on his belt, he was increasing his stride. After what they’d been through with Ross, he wasn’t going to assume anything was all right.
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.
16
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.
“I can see she is important to you. So Waller didn’t overstate the obvious. She is the key, after all.”
Isabella saw shock come and go on her uncle’s face, and then he turned away to pick u the phone.
“What do you mean?” she whispered. “Why did you say I was the key?”
Rostov smiled. “As soon as the others arrive, we will talk.”
David’s hands were shaking as he dialed Jasper’s room. When Jasper answered, David didn’t waste words.
“Get the others and come to my room. Immediately.”
He hung up before Jasper could question him.
“There,” he said. “I’ve done what you asked. You don’t need Isabella. I know you can’t let her go yet, but just tie her up and take us instead. No one will find her until you’re far, far away.”
Rostov laughed. “I don’t want you, old man. I don’t want any of you.” Then he pointed the gun at Isabella. “I don’t even want her…not that she wouldn’t be special, I’m sure.”
Isabella’s stomach churned as her mind was screaming Jack’s name.
“Then what in hell do you hope to gain from all this/” David asked.
“Shut up! You will all know soon enough,” Rostov snapped.
Seconds later, they heard voices in the hall, then the sound of approaching footsteps.
“They’re coming,” Isabella moaned. “Oh Lord, they’re walking into a trap.”
“Open your mouth and he’s dead,” Rostov snapped, and jammed the gun against David’s cheek.
She cast a frantic look at David’s face His eyes were closed, his face white as a sheet.
The door swung inward. Jasper was in front, with the others close behind.
“David, what on earth is—“
He gasped, then froze.
“Get inside,” Rostov snapped. “Do it now, or he’s a dead man.”
The quartet slipped inside, then plastered themselves against the wall…four old men, horror-stricken and mute.
“What’s happening?’ Thomas finally asked, his voice shaky with fear.
“Please let him sit down,” Isabella begged. “he just got out of the hospital.”
Rostov frowned, then waved the old man to the other chair opposite the fire. John took Thomas by one arm, and Rufus took the other, as they helped Thomas to a seat. Jasper’s gaze was fixed on David, as if trying to read his mind, but David wouldn’t look at him. He wouldn’t look anywhere but at the floor.
“Now…how would you say this? Oh yes…I know,” Rostov said. “Is not his cozy?”
Suddenly David looked up, his face contorted in anger.
“They’re here, as you asked. Now what do you want?”
Rostov took Frank’s diary from his pocket and tossed it onto the floor by their feet.
“What’s that?” Jasper asked.
“Vaclav Waller’s diary,” Rostov said.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Rufus muttered, and cast a frantic look at the others.
“Who’s Vaclav Waller?” Isabella asked.
Rostov smirked. “So…she doesn’t know all the little secrets, eh?”
“Shut up,” David said. “Just tell us what you want and be gone.”
“Money!” Rostov said. “I need money to disappear.”
“I have money in the safe,” Isabella said as she jumped to her feet. “You can have it all. Just don’t hurt us.”
Rostov slapped her aside with the butt of his gun. She staggered and fell in front of where Thomas was sitting, and as she did, it brought five old men to their fee
t.
Rostov took a step back and aimed the gun at her head.
“One move and she’s dead,” he said. “sit down, and don’t get up unless I tell you.” Then he looked at Isabella. “That goes for you, too.”
Her ears were ringing from the blow as she crawled to her knees. Jasper glared at Rostov and then helped he back to her chair, as if daring the Russian to shoot.
Rostov sneered. This was better than he’d hoped fro. It was obvious that they would do anything to keep her safe.
“I don’t want your petty cash, Isabella Abbott. I want money enough to disappear. I have decided I do not want to return to Russia.”
“Why did you come in the first place?” she asked.
Rostov looked at her, a little surprised by her attitude. Most women would be cowering from his threat. She was bruised and bleeding and still had the nerve to meet his gaze.
“Because I was sent,” he said.
“To kill Uncle Frank?”
He snorted lightly. “Uncle Frank chose to kill himself.”
“I don’t believe you,” Isabella said. “he wouldn’t do that.”
“Ah…but he did,” Rostov said. “He chose to die rather than to come with me.” He shrugged. “I can’t say I blame him. Russia does not look favorably upon her defectors. Besides, he was already dying. My arrival only hastened his exit.”
“Dying?” she gasped.
Rostov shrugged. “Some kind of cancer. I suppose. The medicine was in his room, along with the diary. All you had to do was look.”
Isabella gsped again in disbelief, looking for her uncles to deny what he’d said. But when they kept silent, she realized that what Rostov had said was no secret to them.
She looked at David. “is this it?” she asked. “Is this the secret? Was his name Vaclav Waller, and did you all help him defect?”
David’s head was bowed, and the others wouldn’t look at her.
Anger welled in Isabella, pushing past her fear. He body was shaking, her face streaked with tears.
“Why won’t somebody tell me what’s going on?”
“Shut up!” Rostov yelled. “All you need to know is that I want one hundred thousand dollars in small bills or you dir.”
