“I saw that,” said Rob, who answered the door when I finally made it up to the house. Grandfather had long ago disappeared from sight. “You all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” I pushed my way inside and tried not to limp. “Where’s my grandfather?”
“Eating.” He pointed toward the dining hall.
Eating is an understatement, I thought upon arrival. Feasting is more like it. Still wearing his pinstripe suit, which made him look like a gangster, I found Grandfather seated in a throne-like chair with carved armrests. Before him lay a spread of sumptuous food, including a buffet of eggs, bacon, sausages, gravy, toast, fruit, cream, syrups, waffles, pancakes, and donuts, all laid out in sparkling serving dishes on a long polished wooden table, while a chandelier dripped rainbow crystals from the ceiling.
The dogs sat one on each side of Grandfather, alert as guards, but eyeing the food greedily. “Breakfast time, Grim.” Grandfather handed him morsels too grand to be called scraps. In fact, they could have fed a hungry family. “Here you go, Reaper. Only the best sausages for you,” Grandfather said in a finer tone than I’d ever heard him use when talking to humans. He patted the dogs’ heads, then picked up a strawberry, dipped it in melted chocolate, and consumed it in one bite.
“Grandfather,” I began, approaching the table, “you have to pay the ransom.”
“I’m thinking of starting a zoo. What do you think of that?”
“You can change the subject, or you can ignore me, but I’ll keep talking until you accept the facts. Max needs our help. Please pay the ransom. It’s the only way.”
Grandfather forked a thick stack of pancakes and plopped them on his plate. “Must we go through this again? It’s an utter waste of time, and I have no intention of wasting my money as well.” He smeared the pancakes with butter, mounded them with cream, then drowned them in syrup. “What happened to finding Maxwell yourself? I take it that didn’t go very well?”
I compressed my lips. “Not with you pitting the police against me.”
“I simply told them the facts.” He chewed, yet he somehow managed to maintain a smirk.
“At least I found Max’s car.”
Grandfather lifted his knife in the air. “Ah, ah, ah—not Maxwell’s car, my car.”
I inhaled deeply, smelled the mingling scents of sweet and savory food. “Yes, your car. But that’s beside the point. Since we can’t find Max, and the police are dragging their feet, we have to pay the ransom or we’re gambling with his life.”
“Interesting choice of words there, that ‘we.’ It’s not our money, it’s mine.”
“I know that! That’s why I’m here, begging you, please, please use it. It’s the only chance we have.” I took a deep trembling breath but couldn’t get enough air. “How can I make you see? I won’t be able to live if something happens to Max. He’s not just my brother, he’s my twin. He’s half of me, he—”
“Please don’t go getting all emotional. It’s bad for the digestion. Not mine, mind you, but Grim’s. He has a sensitive stomach, don’t you boy?” Grandfather rubbed the dog’s ears, and Grim whined pathetically.
I slammed my hand onto the table, making Grandfather’s tower of pancakes sway. “You care more about your pets than your own grandson! Don’t you realize time is running out? A kidnapper is not going to be patient.”
Grandfather shook his head. “I’ve told you before. This is a waiting game. Soon enough, Maxwell will have had enough of this foolishness and show up on his own.”
“He’ll show up all right,” I said, my voice dropping. “He’ll show up dead. And it will be your fault, all because you’re stubborn and greedy and cruel.” I pointed a finger at him. “You just sit back and play with your trains and feast like a bloated Buddha and dream about new ways to waste your money by building extravagant amusements that no one enjoys—not even you—but I’m not going to watch. If Max isn’t here, I’ve got nothing to stay for. I hope you’re satisfied. I’m out of here, and I’m never coming back. Chew on that!” And I swept Grandfather’s plate off the table with one angry stroke. The crashing and cracking and clinking made a wonderful racket.
I had wanted to shock Grandfather, who seemed so unshockable, but even I didn’t expect him to react the way he did. First his face turned purple, then blue. His body seemed to quiver. One moment he was seated calmly, the next moment his fork clattered to the table and he clawed at his chest. Grim and Reaper started howling.
“What’s the matter?” I cried, instantly repentant. “Are you choking?” But Grandfather couldn’t acknowledge me because he fell into a lifeless slump. I felt for a pulse, but didn’t think I could find one. I screamed, “Rob! Rob!”, simply because I knew no other hired help by name.
Suddenly, Rob was at Grandfather’s side. “I’ll take over. Call 911.”
I dialed and spoke without registering a word, my eyes riveted to Grandfather’s limp form. Rob had laid him on the wood floor and was performing CPR.
Please, God, let it work. If he died, I’d be forever haunted by my last words to him.
While I stood uselessly, Grandfather burst to life in a fit of coughing. Rob, on his knees beside him, stopped pumping his chest and helped to steady him. The dogs licked Grandfather’s face.
Rob glanced at me. “What happened?”
My lips felt like wax, stuck together coldly. Shame lurked deep inside me, but I refused to acknowledge it.
“I had a heart attack, that’s what happened,” snapped Grandfather, who tried hoisting himself to a sitting position. He didn’t make it all the way. His arm wobbled and turned to Jell-O at the joint. Rob reached out to support him. Grandfather’s face had changed from blue to an ashen shade. He turned to me, and I thought I saw fear for the first time in his eyes.
“An ambulance is on its way,” I managed to say, my voice sounding meek and contrite.
“A heart attack,” Rob muttered, glancing at the table. “Can’t say it’s a surprise. Your diet would make a pig sick. I’m putting you on a fruit and vegetable regimen.”
“You’ll do no such thing. The best part of life is eating.”
After the ambulance arrived and Grandfather was being transported to his room because he refused to be taken to the hospital, Rob asked me in a lowered tone, “So what’s the whole story? Was it just the food, or did something shock him?”
“Yes, something shocked him. Me,” I admitted. Then I left the room to follow Grandfather. I wasn’t finished with him yet.
* * *
Amazing how quickly the doctors and nurses appeared. They flitted about like bothersome moths and advised me to stay out of the way. I told myself I wasn’t hungry, but while I waited for them to finish with Grandfather, I crammed down three donuts.
I was licking powdered sugar from my fingertips when I spotted a nurse leaving. I hurried to Grandfather’s room and questioned all the doctors and nurses I saw.
“He’s had a heart attack. You need to let him rest,” they insisted. “Come back tomorrow.”
“Let my granddaughter talk to me if she wants,” Grandfather said in his most commanding voice. “In private.”
Passing under an oak archway, I entered his room. The heavy jade canopy of a four-poster bed was tied back with gold cords, but it was still difficult to locate Grandfather, buried as he was amidst mountains of blankets and pillows.
“I’ve decided—” He interrupted himself with a fit of coughing.
I located a glass of water among a clutter of medicine bottles and handed it to him.
“I’ve decided it’s time to look into this matter.” He thrust the glass back at me. “It’s time to take the next step.”
The glass was slippery in my hands. “You mean Max?”
“Maxwell.”
Hope kindled within me. “So you’re going to follow the ransom instructions?” I tried not to sound eager, for fear Grandfather might read it as a sign that I was in on some scheme. Instantly, I despised the fact that I had let his
contorted way of thinking infect my mind.
“Yes, I’ll follow the instructions. Will that satisfy you? Will you calm down now and leave this to me?”
What a relief that would be. Except for one thing. “I want to deliver the money.” I knew better than to trust Grandfather. He might only be pretending to concede in order to placate me, not intending to follow through with anything.
“What? And give the kidnapper a chance to get you, too? Don’t be absurd.”
“I spent all day at the ski hill yesterday, and I was fine.” No need to bring up my ankle. “I’m not negotiating.” I thrust out my chin. “I’ll go to Whitecap Mountain every day this week and guard locker thirty-eight unless you let me deliver the money. I’ll stop anyone you bring in to do it.”
It was a bogus claim. All the bravery in the world wouldn’t make my muscles grow. Grandfather could bring in any guy to overpower me and get the job done. Even Rob could do it.
“Have it your way,” Grandfather said. “But if you get kidnapped too, don’t expect me to bail you out.”
I was so relieved, I actually lifted the water glass, which I’d been holding tensely all this time, to my lips. Realizing at the last second that it was Grandfather’s, I set it down on the bedside table.
“It will take some time to get matters arranged,” Grandfather continued. “I’ll call when things are ready.” He paused to battle his pillow. “I still don’t like this. Do you realize the consequences of giving a kidnapper what he wants? It means crime pays, and he won’t think twice about doing it again. It feeds a hunger that can never be satisfied. He’ll brag, and other would-be criminals will be motivated. You think you have it hard now? After this, you and Maxwell will be targets for the rest of your lives. You won’t be able to step out your front door without a flock of bodyguards.” He turned piercing eyes on me. “Is that what you want?”
“It’s not about what I want.” Getting Max back safely was all that mattered. We could deal with consequences when they came. I almost smiled, this was such a new way for me to be thinking.
I left Grandfather so he could rest, though I doubted that’s what he’d do. Finally, I felt as if I’d helped Max. Grandfather had disguised and manipulated the discussion well, but that still didn’t change the outcome. For the first time in my life, I had won.
I returned home to wait for Grandfather’s call. I met Gwen and Joy in the great room, sitting cross-legged on the Persian rug, painting their nails and laughing like two girls at a slumber party.
“Max still not back?” Gwen asked, pausing in painting her fingernails a daring shade of red.
“I’m beginning to worry,” Joy said.
They’re still clueless, I realized, feeling a pang of guilt for not informing them sooner. “I have something to tell you,” I began, “and I need to sit down.”
“Why don’t you paint your nails, too?” Gwen squealed. “It would be such an improvement.”
“Sorry,” I declined, sinking onto the leather sofa, “but no thanks.”
Swish, swish went their little brushes. Giggle, giggle. How nice to feel so carefree. I sucked in my breath, about to speak, when Gwen interrupted me.
“Then how about untangling my rosary? It’s right there, next to you.”
I glanced over at the glass side table to see a messy mass of silver chain and blue beads.
“I’d do it myself,” she continued, “but my nails are wet, and besides, you’re so good at it.”
I plucked up the rosary and began examining it. “You were using this to play with Mitsy again, weren’t you?”
“Can I help it if it’s her favorite toy?” Gwen shrugged. “Maybe she’s a holy cat.”
“That’s so irreverent. You know you could actually try using this to pray.” Hypocrite. I haven’t touched my own rosary in months.
“I don’t need a rosary to pray,” Gwen countered. “Listen, I’m praying right now: Saint Anthony, please find Max.” She looked at me. “Saint Anthony is the one who finds lost things, right?”
“Right. But Max is not a thing, and he’s—”
“Okay.” She thought a moment. “Saint Christopher, give Max a safe journey.”
I fought to keep my fingers from twisting the rosary into new, impossible knots. “Max is not on a journey. That’s what I need to talk to you about. He—”
Gwen gave a dramatic sigh. “I’m running out of saints here. Help me out.”
I shook my head. “Listen, please. This is serious. I have bad news about Max.”
“Pass me the blue moon polish, Mom,” Gwen said. “Red’s so last year.”
I opened my mouth and the words finally spilled out. “Max was kidnapped.”
“Kidnapped!” Gwen and Joy said in unison, actually looking up from their nails.
“That’s right. On Friday. We think he was taken from Whitecap Mountain Ski Resort. Grandfather got a ransom note yesterday, and I’m going to deliver the money soon.”
“Oh, that’s terrible!” Joy exclaimed.
“Horrible,” Gwen cried. Then she whispered, “How much money?”
“Gwen!” Joy admonished, but I could read the concerned curiosity in both their features.
“Don’t worry.” My fingers continued working the beads and chain. “It’s only two million. It won’t cut into our allowances.”
Joy shook her head. “Don’t say that, Charlene. We only want Max back safe and sound. Why, he’s like a son to me. Do you have any idea how he is?”
“No . . . but I’m hoping this will all be over today and he’ll be back before dark. I’ll be leaving as soon as I get the call from Grandfather.”
“Do you want us to come with you?” Joy asked quietly.
“Thanks, but no.” I couldn’t imagine keeping a low profile with Joy and Gwen by my side. “It should be simple enough, and it would probably be best to just have one person there.”
“I can’t believe your grandfather is willing to part with that much money,” Gwen persisted.
“He has no choice,” I said. “Not if he wants Max back.”
“Still, it’s not like him. And how do you know you can trust the kidnapper to keep his end of the deal?”
“Hush, Gwen,” Joy said, “you’ve been watching too many movies.” But her expression was equally unsettling.
“I’ll be in my room if you want me.” Pocketing the rosary, I retreated upstairs as fast as possible, escaping the poisonous nail polish fumes and the even more poisonous thoughts running through my head.
* * *
Alone in my room, I feigned patience as I clipped and filed my nails. This was better than biting them nervously. I even started painting them, which proved how desperate I was for distraction. I never could understand how Gwen, who was so careless with other things, managed to paint super-slick nails and clump-free mascara—all in record time.
My phone rang, making me almost spill my pink polish bottle. As it was, I streaked a nail. I didn’t care. I wouldn’t have cared if the polish was scarlet and stained my white carpet.
“Grandfather?” I yelped into the phone, not even looking at the screen.
There was an unsettling silence on the other end. My heart filled the hush with thumping beats.
“Definitely not,” drawled a female voice. “Is Max around? I’d like to speak to him.” The voice sounded like it could belong to a teenager, and I tried to decide whether or not I recognized it.
“He’s not here at the moment.”
“Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“Not exactly . . . He’s hard to get ahold of,” I said carefully, still not sure who this was. “It would be best if I took a message.” When I received no reply, I prompted, “Is that okay?”
I heard a long-suffering sigh. “I guess it will have to be. Tell him Alice McGregor called.” She said her name as if she were pronouncing a royal title. “I need to know what time he’s picking me up for the New Year’s party.”
Alice McGregor. The most sought
-after girl at school. Guys wanted her; girls wanted to be her. I thought, Congratulations, Max. “How did you get my number?”
“The tutoring board at school.” She said it like it was a joke, and I was sure I heard a smothered giggle. “I wouldn’t have called you except Max is obviously having phone trouble. I keep getting his voicemail.”
And obviously no guy would ever ignore a call from you. “Anything else?” I asked.
“Yes. Tell him to buy me a fresh rose corsage from Tacey’s Floral. White roses. And remind him to pick me up in the Jaguar.”
I hung up, wondering what it was that everyone thought was so special about Alice McGregor.
* * *
Grandfather’s call came an hour later. In fifteen minutes, I was on my way to save Max.
One bulging backpack heavy with money. Check.
One roll of nylon string. Check.
One pair of mini scissors. Check.
I was making a list. A mental one only—since I was in the process of driving to the ski resort—but it helped.
One nervous girl in control of the wheel. Check.
Okay, it wasn’t helping anymore. I felt anything but in control. I felt alone. Vulnerable. Scared. What if the kidnapper changed his mind? What if I messed up? What if he took it out on Max? What if Grandfather was right, and the kidnapper was only waiting for a chance to snatch me, too? Maybe I should have accepted Joy’s offer to come along.
I wished I didn’t know the way to the ski resort. Then maybe my thoughts would be taken up with concentrating on the roads and signs.
At last I turned onto a road that was flanked by huge piles of plowed snow and a mountain-shaped billboard. I wound up the hill and turned into the parking lot. The car bumped and rumbled over gravelly snow while I searched for a spot to squeeze into.
Frozen Footprints Page 6
