Suspicious (On the Run)

by Rosett, Sara

Harrington waved his hand at them in a cutting motion, indicating they should stop talking. Zoe fell back against the wall and rubbed her forehead.

  Harrington said, “Yes, I understand you’d like to speak to me personally. I’d like that as well. I have a few things to share that I think you’ll find of interest. I realize that you think I’m responsible for the theft, but I assure you I’m not. I’m ready to prove my innocence to you.” Harrington paused. “How will I do that?” He glanced up at them, and Zoe could have sworn there was a twinkle of mischievousness in his eye. “Why, by helping you capture the true thieves. Yes, plural. Thieves. No, I’m afraid it is not Mr. and Mrs. Andrews. Sorry to disappoint.”

  After another pause, Harrington said, “While I understand how much you’d like me to turn myself in at the nearest police station and give them all the details, I think it would be more effective to show you the thieves in action. A handoff of the jewels from the thief who stole them to the person who is offering to sell them back to me. Is it possible that either you or a representative could meet me tomorrow on the mountain above Ischgl?”

  Harrington raised his eyebrows. “You’re that close, are you? Excellent,” he said faintly. He listened then said, “Fine. Meet me at noon on the restaurant terrace at Idalp.” Harrington ended the call. Zoe saw a slight tremble in his hand as he tossed the phone on the bunk.

  Jack picked up the phone and removed the battery.

  “How close?” Zoe asked, suddenly aware of the thin lace that only half covered the black square of the window.

  “Garmisch.”

  “Do you think that could have been Alessi in your hotel room?” Zoe asked.

  “Probably.”

  “Well, if he’s in Garmisch, he can be here in a few hours. You have to stay here, in this room,” Zoe said to Harrington. “In fact, we should all stay here. If he catches sight of one of us…”

  “Harrington has to stay here. Unfortunately, you and I,” Jack said with a look at Zoe, “will have to go back out.”

  ***

  After a long night that had been short on sleep, Zoe and Jack left the hostel before sunrise and used some of Harrington’s cash to convince a ski rental shop to open early for them. They collected ski gear and snagged a parking spot on the street outside the gästehaus, where they watched for McKinley and Amy to leave for the mountain. Jack didn’t want to let either McKinley or Amy out of their sight, and Zoe agreed it was the safest thing to do. The downside was it meant they had to separate because McKinley was an early bird. Suited up in a red jacket, black pants, and red ski boots, he departed for the slopes at seven-thirty.

  Jack dropped a quick, cold kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you up there.”

  “Right.” Zoe matched his confident, almost breezy tone. If he could mask his worry, so could she. A few years ago, she would have looked at Jack and thought he had nothing more taxing on his mind than deciding which ski run he would take down the mountain, but now she knew that despite his easy stride and calm face, he was tense and alert.

  How he managed to stay so alert and focused while looking relaxed was a true skill, Zoe decided. And how he managed to do it with only a catnap, she had no idea. After Jack exchanged his snow-soaked clothes for dry clothes the night before, he had returned to the gästehaus to make sure McKinley and Amy were in for the night. They hadn’t stirred from their rooms, Jack reported when he returned to the hostel at three a.m. and dropped into his bunk.

  Zoe watched him stride off in McKinley’s wake, expecting Amy to follow shortly, but Amy wasn’t in any hurry to get up the mountain. Zoe sat in relative warmth, having to start the car and run the heater only occasionally because her rented ski pants and coat insulated her from the frigid morning air. Jack checked in a few times when he could. Cell phone service on the mountain was spotty. He reported that McKinley was burning up the ski runs, but Jack was keeping up with him at a discreet distance.

  With the clock inching toward eleven, Zoe seriously began considering a repeat of her balcony-climbing trick, just to make sure Amy hadn’t given her the slip. She discarded that idea and was running through possible scenarios that would allow her to inquire about Amy at the gästehaus without giving herself away when Harrington called. He said he was about to leave for the gondola and sounded calm and resolved. He wasn’t surprised that Amy wasn’t eager to get to the slopes. “She never mentioned skiing or any physical activity, come to think of it,” Harrington said. “Not the athletic type, I’d say.”

  As he finished his sentence, Amy emerged from the gästehaus with skis balanced on her shoulder. She minced down the steps awkwardly in ski boots. Since Amy was walking, Zoe left the car and followed on foot, toting her skis and poles.

  Zoe kept back, drawing close only when Amy entered the nearest lift house and bought a ticket. Zoe got close enough to see which kind of ticket she bought, a single pass up and down the mountain, then bought one for herself and hurried to catch up with Amy, who’d returned to the street that wound along the river.

  Zoe checked the time then whipped out her phone and called the number Jack had programmed in for Harrington’s phone. The three of them had agreed that Harrington would wait until the last minute before leaving the hostel so that he would be out of sight as long as possible, but now he was positioned to cross paths with Amy.

  “Are you in line?” Zoe asked the moment he answered.

  “Yes.”

  “Amy’s heading for the lift house where you are,” Zoe said between white puffs of breath. The road rose sharply, and she felt the altitude.

  “I can’t change now. The lines are quite long,” Harrington said. “I’ll keep my head down.”

  Amy paused, maybe catching her breath or maybe for a look around. Zoe wasn’t sure, so she dropped back a bit, afraid Amy would spot her, but after a few seconds, Amy plodded on. As they neared the second lift house, Zoe lost sight of her. She scanned the mass of people milling around the lower level where the restrooms and lockers were located, expecting to see Amy’s lime green jacket moving in and out of the crowd, but she didn’t.

  Zoe hurried closer, scanning the area around the base of the building as well as the open-air staircase that folded back on itself, rising to the upper level where the lift house was located as well as the tunnel with moving walkways that transported skiers into downtown Ischgl.

  Zoe twisted around, her heartbeat pulsing in her ears. How could Amy be there one moment and gone the next? Zoe raced to the stairs and climbed them as fast as she could, her skis and poles thrashing around her as she sped upward. Zoe emerged into the open area between the lift lines and the entrance to the tunnel and, as if transported there by magic, there Amy was in line for the lift. Zoe blew out a puff of foggy air. She must have lost her on the stairs. Zoe fell into step behind her, pulling her hat lower over her eyebrows. She was determined to stay close to her this time.

  ***

  Gemma exchanged a glance with Alessi. They were in position on opposite sides of the terrace, and she couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for Alessi. Did Throckmorton know how much Alessi hated the cold? Was that why he’d set the meeting at an outdoor restaurant? Today, Alessi had added a second scarf and, although she wasn’t sure, it looked like he had on another fleece jacket under his coat.

  Since Throckmorton had set the meeting on the mountain, she’d rented a ski jacket and pants that morning as well as skis as soon as the shops opened. She and Alessi had connected with local law enforcement last night and divided the surveillance. The local Austrian team took Amy Beck while she and Alessi headed up the ski lift for the meeting with Throckmorton.

  Gemma didn’t like splitting the duties, but she couldn’t be in both places at once, and she had to stay with Alessi to be there when Throckmorton turned himself in. If he turned himself in. She couldn’t quite believe he would willingly walk into their waiting handcuffs. But then why else would he call Alessi?

  Gemma pushed the mental questions away and focused on looking for Throckmo
rton in the crowd. Speculation didn’t matter now. It was almost time. She blew out a breath, fighting down the energy buzz she had every time before an op. There was nothing to do but stay alert and see how it played out.

  ***

  Zoe pressed her phone to her ear as she waited in line for the gondola, her skis balanced on her shoulder. “I don’t like it.” Her heart rate was back to normal after the scare of losing Amy. She figured Jack had enough to worry about. She wouldn’t bother him with that detail.

  “Skiing?” Jack’s voice came over the line faintly and garbled with static as if he were on another continent instead of merely a couple of thousand feet above her on the mountain.

  “No, everything else. If it doesn’t go as planned…” Zoe momentarily closed her eyes and tried to push away the image of Harrington and themselves in handcuffs. “Things could go bad.” She focused on Harrington, who was far ahead of her in line. Unlike the ride up the Zugspitze where there had been plenty of people simply going up for the view and the unique experience of ascending to Germany’s highest peak, everyone here was decked out in ski suits, helmets, goggles, thick gloves, and carried either skis and poles or a snowboard.

  Everyone except Harrington.

  “We should have gotten him a ski jacket when we rented our stuff,” Zoe said. Harrington’s black trench coat contrasted sharply with the bright ski suits and jackets that everyone else wore. “He looks like an undertaker at a clown convention.”

  Jack laughed. “As long as he makes it up the mountain. I think we’re okay.”

  “He’s next in line for the gondola.” Zoe scanned the line of people waiting to go up the mountain then shifted her gaze to the people milling around the large board displaying which portions of the ski area were open.

  Clouds had moved in overnight, blocking out the brilliant blue sky of the previous day. The gondola cables stretched up the mountain and disappeared into thick fog. A few snowflakes drifted down.

  She didn’t see anyone who looked like a cop, but she assumed they would be undercover. “It doesn’t look like anyone is following him, and Amy and I are so far back that I don’t think she’s spotted him.” Zoe’s gaze had been bobbing between Harrington at the front of the line and Amy’s lime-green hood. With about a dozen people separating them, she and Amy brought up the rear of the gondola line.

  “No one should be onto Harrington since we kept him shuttered in the hostel last night after he made the call.”

  “Yeah, well, we didn’t have any choice after the call, did we?” Zoe did little side-to-side steps to keep her circulation going. Her nose and cheeks were already tingling.

  “Zoe, it was Harrington’s choice, not mine. And you know it’s the only play we have.”

  Zoe pulled her hat lower over her ears and sighed. “I still don’t like it.”

  Jack asked, “How is Amy behaving?”

  “She’s alone and hasn’t stopped to talk to anyone. She’s all decked out and ready to ski, but she seems stressed.” Her look of stony concentration was quite a contrast to the people around her who were in a relaxed holiday mood.

  The line moved, and Zoe inched forward in that stiff-legged, slightly bent gait that ski boots forced her to take. Her toes were pinched together, but she barely noticed the pain. Harrington stepped into the small gondola. He was with a family, a mom and dad with two kids, who were swinging their poles around in a rather dangerous imitation of a sword fight. Zoe relaxed. “Okay, his gondola cleared the platform. He’s in with a family with a couple of little kids.”

  “Phase one, complete,” Jack said.

  “The only danger will be if one of those kids puts his eye out with their ski pole,” Zoe said.

  Jack groaned. “Looks like McKinley’s going out again. Probably trying to get in one more run before he has to meet Amy. I’m going to need a major rubdown. My legs are already killing me. Got to go.”

  Zoe tucked the phone into her pocket. The line moved and Amy slipped into a gondola. When her turn came, Zoe watched the people ahead of her and imitated them, stowing her skis on the outer rack of the gondola, then slipping inside. With a loud snap, the doors automatically closed before the gondola reached the end of the platform. It was a much smaller gondola than the one they had ridden in Germany. This one could hold about six people. Zoe took a seat on one of the padded seats, which was warm to the touch. Heated seats in the gondola—fancy.

  The other occupants were three snowboarders who were occupied with earbuds and music players and didn’t pay any attention to her. The snowboarders might be bored with the view, but Zoe wasn’t so jaded that she could look away from the spectacular scenery of towering snow-covered evergreens interspersed with rocky outcroppings.

  She caught a glimpse of a narrow waterfall cascading over icy black rocks. The gondola moved almost vertically up the steep mountain, whisking them up at a speed that made her ears pop. They entered the low-hanging cloud, and moisture beaded on the windows, turning the view into a hazy, white blur. It only took a few minutes to reach the top, and then there was the scramble to exit and grab her gear from the gondola, which didn’t stop. It moved in a continuous circuit, slowly travelling from the side of the building where arriving passengers hopped off to the other side of the building where people ready to go down the mountain could step on. Zoe snatched her skis from the rack then joined the stream of people exiting the lift house.

  The ski area was above the tree line and above the thick layer of fog enveloping the lower portion of the mountain. Even high up on the mountain it was still gray and overcast, but the clouds were high enough that Zoe could see the craggy dark mountains stretching out in all directions, each one coated with a thick layer of snow. Closer, the gondola and lift cables crisscrossed the area in a crazy patchwork of cables. In the distance, Zoe could see workers operating a scissor lift, attaching signs about the ski tournament to an inflatable archway. It looked like it was the starting point of the tournament. Zoe looked for Jack or McKinley, but didn’t see them.

  Despite the overcast day, Zoe found herself squinting at the vibrant whiteness of the snow. Away from the main ski runs, outcroppings of dark rock thrust through the snow, their sharp edges looking dangerous. In other places, whole ridges of the unforgiving rock pushed through banks of snow.

  Zoe didn’t see Harrington’s dark overcoat and assumed he’d already moved into the large multi-terraced building that contained a restaurant and a ski shop where the meeting was set to take place. Amy headed for one of the smaller lifts. Zoe clicked into her skis and pushed off to follow. After a wobbly start, she found her balance and managed to glide into the line for the lift a few people behind Amy.

  Zoe had been skiing—once. When she was about fourteen, one of her mom’s boyfriends had taken them to Vail for a weekend. Donna had been extremely put out when she discovered that her boyfriend’s idea of a weekend in the mountains involved actual skiing, not shopping in the boutiques and sipping hot toddies in front of the fire. Zoe took lessons the first day and had loved the sensation of speeding across the snow. She hadn’t left the bunny slope, but she’d loved it all the same.

  After that disaster of a weekend, as Donna termed it, she broke it off with her boyfriend. Zoe had never put on skis again until this morning. As the lift, this one an open-air seat with a bar across it, lofted her over the busy slopes, she felt a second of misgiving as she studied the snowy expanse through a veil of tiny flakes that sprinkled down. This was no bunny slope. Could she keep up with Amy? She shook her head, causing the passenger with her on the lift to shift farther away from her. She had to keep up with Amy. She couldn’t let her out of her sight.

  Zoe exited the lift with more of a lurch than a glide, but she made it without falling and kept her gaze fixed on the lime green jacket, which was already drifting down the wide open run in a slow serpentine. Zoe swallowed. This run was a lot steeper and longer than anything she’d ever done before. She pulled her ski goggles into place.

  The pat
ch of lime green was getting smaller, and more snowflakes were swirling down, blurring her vision. Zoe dug her poles into the ground and pushed onto the run, a queasy feeling in her stomach. It was icy at the top, and her left foot vibrated then skittered away. She hunkered down and pulled her leg back in, then realized the edge of the run was approaching way too fast. She shifted her weight and swept in a curve away from the edge back toward the center of the run. Keeping sight of Amy, she executed another turn and began to relax and enjoy the wind whipping against her cheeks and the swish of her blades across the snow. Too quickly, they arrived at the bottom of the run, which emptied out to the wide area in front of the restaurant.

  Amy eased to a stop, removed her skis, and propped them on a set of angled metal bars along with several other sets of skis. Sets of the metal bars were positioned across the front of the restaurant in front of rows of wooden picnic tables. Unlike the leisurely pace she’d taken down the mountain, Amy was now hoofing it across the snow toward the entrance to the restaurant.

  Zoe’s attention was on Amy, and she didn’t see the three pint-sized kids on skis. They swirled around her, expertly swishing across her path. Zoe instinctively drew back, which threw her off balance. Instead of gliding to a stop with a shift of her skis and a plume of snow dust, she wiped out, landing hard on her backside. She scrambled up, extracted herself from her twisted skis, dropped them on the storage rack and hurried after Amy.

  Sliding glass doors swished open to a lobby area with an entrance to the ski shop on one side, a childcare area on the other, and a set of stairs and elevator directly in front of her that led to the restrooms and lockers below ground or the upper level and the restaurant. Brightly jacketed people in ski clothes moved through the lobby and to the stairs, but Zoe didn’t see a lime green jacket anywhere.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Oh God, not again,” Zoe muttered under her breath. Following people was hard. She definitely needed Jack to give her some lessons on it. She was already moving toward the stairs, clip clopping as fast as she could in the ski boots. She hit the stairs and went up.