Paternity Unknown

by Barrett, Jean

  Frazier shook his head. “Too far away for them to get here in time to do us any good. Kingstown is eighty miles away over a bad road.”

  “Couldn’t they fly in?” Lauren wanted to know.

  “Kingstown is too small a depot to have any aircraft available. Besides, there’s no airfield here.”

  “Then how can this broker fly in?”

  “Has to be coming by floatplane. They do sometimes deliver guests that way by landing on the lake out in front of the hotel. But, look,” the Mountie promised them, “it’s not hopeless. Like I said earlier, there’s a security force at the hotel. They’re very efficient.”

  “You think they’d help?” Ethan asked.

  “I’m sure of it. I know the manager over there, Donna Cardoni. She won’t hesitate to offer her people.”

  “Could we please hurry?” Lauren appealed to the Moun tie, anxiously aware of the minutes they were losing that could be critical to them.

  Dick Frazier glanced in the direction of the wing chair. “I need to take Heath into custody and contact Kingstown so my superiors there can tell me what to do about him. I’ll phone Donna on the way and explain everything to her. Then as soon as I get Heath secured in the lockup, I’ll join you at the hotel.”

  “How do we get there?” Ethan asked.

  “You could walk, but it’s much quicker to take one of the trolleys. They make regular runs between the village and the hotel. You can catch one over at the train station. They swing by there every few minutes.”

  THE STATION AGENT was out on the platform when Ethan and Lauren arrived back at the train station. He had their luggage at his feet.

  “The attendant in your car left it with me,” he explained.

  “Hope everything is here. He said he had to gather it up pretty fast when he realized you’d gotten off the train without it.”

  “He mention anything about anyone else’s things left behind?” Ethan asked him.

  “I wouldn’t know about that,” the agent said.

  There was a tautness in Ethan’s voice that made Lauren glance at him. She was puzzled by his question, wondering if he could be referring to Buddy Foley. Maybe Ethan was thinking Foley hadn’t remained on the train, that he, too, could have gotten off here in Windrush.

  Before she could ask him about it, one of the shuttle buses in the guise of an old-time trolley appeared. It was empty when they boarded it, but after it turned out of the station yard, it collected other passengers bound for the hotel at its regular stops along the village’s single street.

  Lauren could see that it was not an actual village. There were no houses. The buildings, all in an alpine style meant to be as quaint and picturesque as the trolleys, contained noth ing but boutiques that catered to the hotel’s guests. As early as the hour was, the street was already busy with shoppers.

  Lauren’s impatience with their frequent stops had to be as evident as her reason for it. Ethan covered her hand with his own.

  “I know it’s not easy,” he said, “but try to remember that, as long as Sara has value to them, they’re going to take care of her. And until they get that payment from the broker, Anthony and his girlfriend aren’t going anywhere. They’re somewhere out there, and we’re going to find them.”

  She appreciated both Ethan’s determination and his words of reassurance. But hearing her daughter spoken of as a kind of commodity, even if this was how her kidnappers regarded her, was hard to bear.

  Leaving the village behind, the trolley passed through a belt of trees and began to descend a long slope. At its bottom, looming in front of them like a vast French château, was the hotel itself, situated close to the shore of a large lake. Against a backdrop of spectacular mountains and with manicured lawns embracing it on all sides, it was an impressive structure.

  Had the circumstances been otherwise, Lauren could have appreciated all this sprawling splendor. As it was, she was interested in nothing but the woman with a name tag on her lapel who was waiting for them on the front steps when the trolley looped around the drive and stopped at the main entrance.

  She came down the wide steps to greet them as Lauren and Ethan stepped off the shuttle, the bags they carried identifying them as new arrivals.

  “It’s Ms. McCrea and Mr. Brand, isn’t it?” They nodded. “Dick Frazier called to tell me you were on your way and to explain the situation to me. I’m Donna Cardoni.”

  The manager of the hotel was an attractive, smartly dressed brunette with an intelligent face and a pair of dark, concerned eyes. She solemnly shook their hands.

  “I’m sorry this has to be your introduction to Windrush,” she said, referring to the reason for their presence, “but we’re going to do everything we can to help you.”

  Thanking her, they followed her up the steps and into a lofty lobby. Lauren could see from its elegance that cost had meant nothing to the railroad baron who had built Windrush.

  “I’ve called a meeting of my security people—” Donna checked her watch “—forty minutes from now. It will take that long before Dick Frazier can join us, and I think he should be here for the meeting. Would you like to go to your room until then?”

  Lauren shook her head. “I feel we should be doing something instead of just waiting. There ought to be something we can do.”

  “Of course. How about listening to some things that you’d probably like to know? Why don’t we sit down, and I’ll try to fill you in.”

  Lauren and Ethan exchanged glances. That Donna Cardoni had information to share was unexpected, but if it was at all useful, they wanted to hear it.

  “We could go out on the terrace,” the manager offered, indicating a range of French doors on the other end of the lobby. “We can talk there. I have to check with the desk, and then I’ll be with you. Leave your bags here. I’ll have someone take them up to your room.”

  She hurried away. Lauren and Ethan crossed the lobby and let themselves out through one of the French doors onto the stone-paved terrace that stretched across the length of the hotel.

  Lauren could see why Donna Cardoni had suggested it. At this hour, the terrace was unoccupied. They would be able to talk here in privacy.

  Standing at the elaborate, wrought-iron railing that edged the elevated terrace, Lauren looked out over the lake below. Her own lake back home was not exactly a pond, but this lake was immense by comparison. It was not only incredibly blue, but breathtaking with the high mountains rimming it on all sides, their lower slopes glowing with forests of aspen that had turned to pure gold with the season.

  It wasn’t the beauty of the scene, however, that occupied Lauren’s thoughts. It was the enormity of the whole thing, not just the lake and the forests but the daunting size of the hotel itself.

  “How can we ever hope to locate them in all this bigness?” she asked Ethan, who stood silently beside her. “They could be anywhere.”

  “It won’t be easy,” said a voice behind them, “but I don’t think it’s as much of a challenge as you might suppose.”

  They turned away from the railing to see that Donna Cardoni had joined them. She led them to a table and chairs situated in the warmth of the sun. Although the weather remained mild, the air off the lake was too bracing to seat themselves in the shade of one of the awnings.

  When they were settled around the table, Ethan leaned toward the manager. “What you said just now…what did you mean?”

  “Only that we don’t need to concentrate our search anywhere but in the hotel itself and on its grounds. Anthony wouldn’t try to hide out there in the wilderness.”

  “How can you be certain of that?”

  “I’m not, but knowing him as I do—”

  “You’re familiar with this guy?”

  “Familiar enough.”

  This was what she had meant back in the lobby by offering to fill us in, Lauren thought.

  Donna began to explain it to them. “Anthony would think of Windrush as coming home. Probably the only home he’s ever really k
nown. He’s familiar with every inch of it. Therefore—”

  “He’d feel secure here as he wouldn’t anywhere else,” Lauren guessed.

  “Not just that, but in control. And that’s important to Anthony.”

  “How do you come to know so much about him?” Ethan asked.

  “Because he was one of my employees.”

  This was news.

  “We learned his mother had been a maid here years ago,” Lauren said, “but we had no idea he stayed on after her death.”

  Actually, it wasn’t so surprising since the lawyer had told them Anthony had met his girlfriend at Windrush, and that must have happened while both of them were working here.

  “He not only stayed on,” Donna said, “he was a regular fixture at Windrush. I got to know him fairly well. Or as much as anyone could get to know Anthony. He was always a strange young man. He’d never let anyone get close to him, except for his girlfriend, Molly Janek.”

  “Why would you have someone like that working for you?” Ethan wanted to know.

  “Well, he never had any contact with the guests and, until Dick Frazier told me, I had no idea he could be dangerous. In any case, I had no choice about it. The owners insisted we keep him on. They had good reasons for their decision. Anthony has no training as an engineer, but he’s amazingly skilled with mechanics. There was no machinery on the place he couldn’t repair.”

  And that, Lauren realized, would have made him capable of creating an incendiary device like the one that destroyed the farmhouse back in Elkton.

  “But there are experienced people who could have replaced him,” Ethan said.

  “Yes,” Donna agreed, “and I hired two of them after Anthony left. But, you see, Anthony was valuable in another way.”

  “How?” Ethan wanted to know.

  “Windrush is a seasonal operation. It shuts down in Octo ber. All of us are out of here by the end of the month. Everyone except a caretaker.”

  “And that was Anthony,” Lauren surmised.

  “Exactly. He never minded that Windrush is completely cut off all through the winter except for a weekly train when the weather permits. In fact, I think the loneliness suited him. Now you can see why I said he’s familiar with every inch of the place and isn’t likely to try to hide out somewhere in the forests.”

  Ethan, looking grim, nodded in understanding. “Because he wouldn’t have to. He must know any number of places right here to conceal the three of them.”

  “The old hotel is a regular labyrinth,” Donna admitted, “but my people are familiar with it, too. If they’re here, or anywhere on the grounds, we’ll locate them.”

  A young man, wearing the uniform of a bellhop, appeared on the terrace with a message for Donna. She got to her feet.

  “I’m wanted at the desk. I’ll see you at the meeting.”

  She left them sitting at the table. Lauren thought about the manager’s promise to them and tried to believe she was right. That they would find Anthony Johnson and succeed in getting Sara safely away from him before it was too late. There were hours to go, but the time was already slipping away from them.

  She was frightened, and Ethan knew that. “It’s not going to help for us to go on sitting here until that meeting,” he said. “Neither of us has eaten anything since last night. I noticed a coffee shop off the lobby.”

  Lauren shook her head, knowing she couldn’t eat breakfast and manage to keep it down. “I could use some coffee, though.” Coffee would keep her going.

  They left the terrace. There was a large-screen TV in one corner of the lobby. They had to pass it on their way to the coffee shop. Although no one was watching it, the set was on and tuned to a newscast.

  Lauren was oblivious to the program. Until a scene that suddenly filled the screen caught her eye. Coming to a stop, she stared at it, then slowly approached the set. Why was it so familiar?

  Of course. The camera, obviously originating from a news helicopter, looked down on a train snaking through the mountains below. It was a train very much like the one that had brought them to Windrush through a similar terrain. Or were they the same mountains?

  And why should this capture her attention? She had no reason to be interested. Unless the curse that Ethan muttered under his breath behind her…

  Grabbing the remote from where it had been left beside the set, Lauren boosted the volume in time to hear the newscaster’s startling report.

  “It was along this same stretch of track, and from a train resembling the one you see, that the two railroad inspectors checking a trestle earlier this morning witnessed the man hurtling to his death. Although identification on the body has established that he was a police officer from Seattle, Washington, his name is being withheld pending notification of family. Whether his death was the result of an accident or foul play has yet to be determined.”

  Shocked by what she had heard, Lauren turned away from the set to face Ethan. His expression was as hard as stone.

  “It must have been Buddy Foley,” she said. “He was talking about Buddy Foley. I don’t understand. You told all of us that he managed to slip away from you. How could he have—”

  Lauren had no need to go on. She realized by now that something was wrong. Very wrong.

  “You had some kind of showdown with him,” she whispered. “That’s what really happened, didn’t it?” She ought to have guessed earlier, when Ethan had been so vague about Buddy’s disappearance, that his explanation wasn’t right.

  Ethan remained silent. It didn’t matter. His eyes said it all. She felt sick.

  “You lied to all of us. You lied to me.”

  “All right, so I withheld the truth. But only long enough to make sure I stayed free until Sara was recovered. What other choice did I have? You tell me, Lauren. Just what else could I do?”

  “You could have told me.”

  “When? There was no time. Anyway, I didn’t want to involve you until I had a chance to…well, I never dreamt Foley’s death would be discovered this soon.”

  “What? A chance to what?” A terrible thought occurred to her then. “Dear God, you and Foley! Did you—”

  She caught herself, but it was too late. The damage was already done. Ethan understood what she had been on the edge of so impulsively accusing him of.

  “Did I murder him, Lauren?” he said bitterly. “That what you want to know?”

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just—”

  “Yeah, I know. My innocence is still in question, even with you. Hell, I stood trial for killing my grandfather, didn’t I? Doesn’t matter that I’ve been vindicated, because where there’s smoke…”

  “Ethan, no! I know you’re not capable of murder.”

  “Do you? So why have I got this lingering feeling that, if it hadn’t been for Sara’s abduction, we wouldn’t be together at all? That you wouldn’t have let me anywhere near her or you again?”

  “That’s not true!”

  “Then you should have trusted me. But that’s the problem with us, isn’t it, Lauren? Even after all we’ve been through, you never could bring yourself to completely trust me. And without that, we have nothing.”

  Turning abruptly on his heel, his long legs carried him swiftly away from her. Lauren knew it would be useless to go after him. He was in no mood to listen to her.

  She stood there, stricken with guilt. How could she have thought that he might have murdered Buddy Foley? It was hearing of Foley’s death like that, and for a fleeting second… But that second of doubt was all it had taken to convince Ethan there was a yawning gulf between them.

  Returning the TV remote to the place where she had found it, Lauren wandered back across the lobby. She stood by one of the French doors, gazing out at the shimmering waters of the lake and feeling miserable.

  Although she knew that her stupid error could be resolved once Ethan had a chance to get over his anger and forgive her, there was no denying the larger issue it had triggered. One that could not be mended s
imply by communication. She could still hear his biting words on the subject.

  If it hadn’t been for Sara’s abduction, we wouldn’t be together at all.

  They had bonded over Sara out of necessity, that was true. But if their daughter was all they had in common, if they shared nothing else, then their relationship was hopeless. Because even though Lauren was in love with him, Ethan had never indicated he was prepared to return that love. Nor had she any right to expect it.

  Once Sara was back in her arms—and it was unthinkable to consider she might not be returned to them—there was every likelihood that, except for visits to his daughter, Ethan would be out of her life. She had to learn to accept that.

  But standing there at the glass, she already felt the unbearable ache of his loss.

  THEY MET in one of the hotel’s conference rooms. Lauren was encouraged by the size of the security force. There were eight men and women who gathered around the table. Together with Dick Frazier and Lauren, who had every intention of participating in the search, the team was large enough to cover all areas of Windrush.

  They were already assembled by the time Ethan arrived. Lauren experienced a bad moment when he strode into the room. What if one of the others, the Mountie in particular, had learned of Buddy Foley’s suspicious death?

  But apparently none of them had caught the newscast, because he wasn’t challenged. Probably the police investigating Foley’s death had had no chance yet to connect him with either Ethan or Windrush, which meant Dick Frazier hadn’t been alerted.

  If Ethan was worried about that eventuality, he showed no signs of his concern. His face was a taut mask without emotion when he joined them.

  Lauren had no idea where he’d been after leaving her. Nor did she have any opportunity to ask him. He sat down the table away from her, avoiding all contact.

  She put aside her distress about him with a fierce determination. All that mattered right now was Sara. And that meant giving her full attention to Donna Cardoni, who conducted the meeting with a brisk efficiency that emphasized the importance of locating Anthony Johnson, Molly Janek and the baby in their possession as quickly as possible.