by B. J Daniels
Wisps of fog began to drift across the highway. She’d been climbing for miles. Up here, the trees were thick on each side of the road, walls of green that hemmed in the highway. Around the next bend, the fog grew more dense. She caught a glimpse of black clouds shrouding the tops of the mountains. A storm was coming in. She liked storms.
She turned on her headlights and slowed as she checked her rearview mirror. There was one set of headlights a good distance behind her, but she quickly lost them in the fog and trees as the road snaked up the mountainside.
Glancing at the mileage gauge, she saw that she should be almost to Fernhaven.
And there her life would finally begin.
FEAR KEPT JENNA’S EYES squeezed tight. Hurry, Charlene. I have to get out of here.
Jenna tried to remain calm. Charlene would be here soon. By this time tomorrow Lorenzo would have his money back. She and Lexi would be on a flight to some country far from here. Everything would be all right. She would forget this place and what had happened….
Jenna.
She shook her head and put her hands over her ears. She heard him chuckle.
You know that won’t do any good. Look at me.
She felt a sob escape her lips as she opened her eyes.
He was crouched next to her on the floor, looking exactly as he had in the old photographs downstairs. He wore a tuxedo, his dark hair oiled and combed back. His eyes were the most beautiful blue she’d ever seen. She felt a jolt as she looked into them.
He met her gaze.
Jenna’s heart beat faster. It had been him in her dreams. She could see it in his eyes. He’d been here last night and again this afternoon. He’d made love to her. He’d made her believe that anything was possible. His touch had ignited a passion that had been missing in her life, and she didn’t want to let it go. She wanted this phantom lover to come to her, to make love to her, to never ever go away.
As if he knew that, he reached out and pulled her into his arms, drawing her to her feet.
She closed her eyes, feeling tears well behind her lids as she leaned into him. He felt solid. Real. “What is going on?” she whispered.
“I’m not sure. This is as much of a surprise to me as it is to you.”
She pulled away from him and stepped deeper into the room. “Who is Bobby John Chamberlain?” she asked, slipping her hand into her jacket pocket.
“Jenna—”
As she turned, she withdrew the gun from her pocket and pointed it at him. He seemed to shimmer in the light. Not a figment of her imagination. But not real, either.
Harry groaned and looked disappointed. “Put down the gun, Jenna.”
“Who are you? What are you?” She gripped the weapon tighter.
He met her gaze. “You already know.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t. Tell me I dreamed it.”
“It isn’t a dream,” he said quietly.
She shook her head. “But this isn’t possible.”
“I don’t know how or why, but you were sent here. Sent to me.” He stepped toward her.
She raised the gun to point it at the spot where his heart should have been. “I have to know who you are.”
“My name is Harry Ballantine, and part of me has been waiting my whole life for you. Isn’t that all you have to know?”
She shook her head once more.
“Jenna, let me help you. Put down the gun. It won’t do you any good. You can’t kill me. I’m already dead.”
“No.” She recoiled, her hands trembling so hard she almost dropped the weapon. She stumbled back, losing her balance.
He caught her, gently took it from her and eased her down onto the couch. Flipping on the safety, he put the gun on top of the television cabinet, out of Lexi’s reach.
Jenna felt as if all was lost. She’d lost her mind. Worse, she’d lost something else—a part of herself—to Harry Ballantine. No matter who or what he was, a part of her would always remain here with him, whatever happened now.
“I’m sorry.” It was all Harry could think to say. Because he was sorry in more ways than she could ever know.
She was shaking, her eyes glittering with tears. He didn’t know how much time he had. She could still see him, but he didn’t know for how long.
“You came here so I could help you,” he said.
She shook her head yet again, her eyes wide as she stared at him. Her face had blanched white and he could see the fear. The disbelief. He’d been there and understood how hard it was to accept some of life’s—and death’s—little surprises.
“I think I knew the moment I saw you,” he murmured. “You have to let me help you. It’s the only way.”
“Why should I believe anything you tell me?” she demanded, her voice breaking.
“Because a part of you knows how I feel about you,” he stated. He could see her fighting it.
“I don’t understand any of this,” she said with a sob.
“Listen to me, Jenna.” He gripped her hands. “I know you’re in trouble. There are people after you.”
She tried to pull free. “How can you know that?”
“The same way I know you were sent here. I feel it.” He let go of her hands. “You’re in grave danger.”
Tears welled again in her eyes. She glanced toward the door to Lexi’s bedroom. “I have to protect my daughter.”
“I know. I’m not sure how, but I want to help you.” He didn’t tell her that he had a plan, and if it worked, they would be together—one way or another. Because he could never let her go now. They were meant to be together. Even if she would have to die to stay here with him.
The phone rang, startling Jenna. She’d completely forgotten about Charlene. She got up and went to answer it, her back to Harry.
“Hey, it’s me,” Charlene said. “I’m starting up the mountain to the hotel. Everything okay at your end?”
“Yes.”
“You sure? You sound like someone has a gun to your head,” Charlene stated, as if she might be only half joking.
“No, I’m fine. Just nervous. I want this over with,” Jenna said.
“Hang in there. It will be over before you know it.” Charlene disconnected.
Jenna wished she could believe that as she hung up the phone and turned.
Harry was gone.
She hadn’t heard the door open. Nor close. She checked the rest of the suite. Gone. As she came back into the living area, she glanced quickly to the coffee table, where she’d put the taped-up cardboard box that she’d filled with money.
It was still there.
But part of her had expected it to be gone.
Chapter Thirteen
Lorenzo couldn’t believe this gas-hog of a car he’d rented. He pulled into a fuel station at the edge of some Podunk town and happened to glance in his rearview mirror.
A dark-colored sedan swung to the side of the road in front of an abandoned store. Jolly. The son of a bitch was tailing him!
Lorenzo jumped as someone tapped on his side window. A kid in a grimy green uniform looked down at him. Lorenzo turned the key back on and hit the button that lowered his window a few inches.
“Fill ’er up,” he said to the attendant as he realized he’d pulled into a full-service pump instead of a self-service. He hated to think what gas cost in a town this far from anything. A ghost town. Most of the storefronts were boarded up and there was no one on the street.
He looked into his mirror again. Jolly was still sitting in his car, waiting.
Lorenzo opened his door, got out and stretched, his back to Jolly. “Where’s your restroom?” he asked the attendant as he walked around the front of the car.
The kid pointed to the back. “Key’s just inside the door.”
The key was attached to a carved piece of log that had to weigh two pounds. Lorenzo took it from the hook and carried the stupid thing around the side of the building, discarding it the moment he was out of sight.
He ran around back, s
printing across a side street and skirting the rear of the abandoned store, then up its side to the corner. He stopped to screw the silencer onto his gun, then keeping low, came up behind the dark sedan. Jolly was facing forward, watching the station, waiting for him to come out of the john.
The attendant at the gas station finished filling up Lorenzo’s car, then sauntered back inside the station without even bothering to wash his windshield.
Lorenzo moved quickly forward, the gun against his leg. Once he was alongside, he raised the weapon and pumped three shots into the window.
The first shot shattered the glass. Nothing stopped the second and third ones from reaching their mark. Jolly slumped in the seat, eyes wide, mouth open.
Lorenzo went back the way he’d come, picked up the bathroom key and returned it to the office, hanging it on the nail where he’d found it. He paid cash for his gas, thanked the attendant, who hadn’t even bothered to wash his damn windshield, and walked in a leisurely way to his car, all the time watching the street.
No movement of any kind. Especially from the dark car parked in front of the abandoned grocery store.
AT THE HELICOPTER PAD, Raymond Valencia tried Rico’s number one more time before boarding. He hadn’t been able to reach him. Either cell phones didn’t work high in the Cascades, or something had happened to him.
“Where’s Erik?” Raymond asked in surprise as he slid up into the seat of the small chopper. With some alarm, he saw that this man wasn’t his usual pilot. The guy couldn’t have been over thirty, with startling blue eyes and blondish hair that was too long and curled at the collar of his leather bomber jacket. He looked as if he belonged on a surfboard at the beach, not at the controls of a chopper.
“Flu bug. Your service called for a pilot.” The guy gave him a look as if to say, “So here I am.” He stuck out a big suntanned hand. “John James Harrison.”
Raymond shook his hand, a little less uneasy when he felt the strength of the man’s grip. There was also a confidence about the young man. It eased Raymond’s mind some as he watched him ready the chopper.
“How long will it take to get there?” Raymond asked.
“Half an hour once we’re off the ground.”
“You been flying long?”
Harrison gave him an amused smile, showing a lot of white teeth as he cranked up the engine. “Since I was a kid. My father was a pilot,” he said over the whoop-whoop of the blades.
Raymond nodded and tried to relax. Half an hour. He glanced at his watch, wondering what he was doing. This was a mistake. He should never have gotten involved in Jenna Dante’s life to begin with. More to the point, Lorenzo Dante’s life. Raymond hoped he was wrong, but couldn’t help thinking he was somehow responsible for Jenna running. For her taking his money, if indeed she had. For what was bound to be a showdown at some remote hotel in the Cascades.
He’d always been so careful to stay in the shadows. Others before him had ended up in prison or dead because they got their hands dirty. They’d become public figures, with their photographs in the paper all the time depicted as crime bosses. He’d seen enough of those shots on the evening news to swear he wouldn’t be one of them. He lived a secluded, quiet life and was very careful.
Now he’d broken his cardinal rule. He was getting involved. And for what? Five hundred grand? He knew it had little to do with the money, although half a million dollars wasn’t anything to sneeze at.
He had to know who he could trust. That was much more important than money. He had to know who was behind this—and see that they were taken care of.
He felt his gun, where it was tucked in against his ribs. He hadn’t killed anyone in years. Not that he hadn’t kept up his marksmanship abilities at the shooting range he’d installed in the lower level of his home.
Some nights he shot round after round. He knew that to truly be safe, he needed to be able to protect himself. Then he would bowl in the single alley he’d had built next to the shooting range. No one knew about the bowling because he didn’t want anyone to know just how lonely he was. Just how alone.
And that, he knew, was why he was doing this. Not because of the money or the trust issue. He wanted Jenna. He’d wanted her from the first time he’d laid eyes on her and he’d found out that Lorenzo had married the girl.
Raymond had been sick with desire for Lorenzo Dante’s wife. And now he could have her. She would be grateful for his help. She would owe him. Especially if she’d taken his money. Even if she didn’t want him, he knew he could convince her that she belonged with him. He would protect her. And her daughter. From Lorenzo.
The helicopter lifted off. The sinking sun glinted on the high-rises in downtown Seattle. The Space Needle stood alone, a soaring landmark, glowing in the sun.
The chopper headed east, crossing over miles of traffic-filled highways, clusters of small communities, until finally the landscape below them turned green.
Raymond breathed a sigh of relief, leaned back and closed his eyes. He thought about Jenna and prayed that she wasn’t involved in trying to rip him off. Especially that she wasn’t in this with Lorenzo. Raymond knew he couldn’t forgive that.
Heavy at heart, he hated to think what he would have to do if he found out that Jenna had betrayed him.
CHARLENE CAME UP OVER THE rise and there it was. Fernhaven Hotel.
Even through the rain and fog, the place looked amazing.
“Wow.” Charlene had dreamed about living a life like this. Fancy hotels, breakfast in bed, people to wait on her….
But how had Jenna Dante gone from that fleabag apartment where she’d lived to this? Last Charlene knew, Jenna had less money than Charlene herself.
Blackmail? Was she selling these so-called papers to her ex?
Charlene smiled at the thought. Would be nice to see Jenna get some backbone, that was for sure. The woman was more beaten down than Charlene had been even during the worse part of her marriage. Her husband used to kick her butt, but Charlene had always come back fighting.
She pulled into a spot in the parking lot near the trees, where she figured her car wouldn’t be that noticeable, and turned off the engine.
The rain seemed to fall harder, with gusts of wind blowing it sideways across the windshield. She debated waiting to see if it was going to let up. Yeah, right. She wished she’d thought to grab an umbrella. Or at least a rain jacket. But she’d been thinking of sunny beaches, because she had no intention of ever going back to Seattle unless it was to catch a plane to a warmer clime.
She sat for a minute just gawking at the hotel. Never in her life had she ever stayed at anything more than a cheap motel, let alone a place this fancy. Maybe after she got the package from Jenna, she’d stay the night. What would it hurt to make Lorenzo Dante wait?
She knew the answer to that one. But there was little that scared Charlene anymore. She’d seen the worst of it in other men like him. Nothing could scare her now. Not even Lorenzo. He could hurt her physically, kill her, make the last few minutes of her life pretty miserable, but in the end, he couldn’t take anything else from her because she had nothing worth taking. Death would be a welcome relief.
Not that Charlene had any intention of dying anytime soon. Nope, she’d put away any money she came across. Hidden it. She had added to her nest egg with the money Lorenzo had been giving her to spy on Jenna.
And now she had a car and was about to add twenty grand to what she called her “freedom fund.”
She was a lucky woman, she thought, as she waited for the rain to let up. She had overcome obstacles that would have killed most men. And with no education or a husband or many prospects, she’d found ways to take care of herself.
Not that she was proud of spying on Jenna. She liked the woman, related to her. But this was about survival. And Charlene Palmer was determined to survive—no matter what she had to do.
It was a lesson that Jenna Dante still had to learn.
“PICKING UP SOME WIND,” the pilot said as Raymond
Valencia’s helicopter neared the hotel. The chopper began to shake, buffeted by the gale. Fog rushed by, and suddenly rain splatted off the helicopter like bullets off bulletproof glass.
Through the rain and fog, Raymond Valencia caught a glimpse of Fernhaven and was instantly filled with an unexplainable dread. He’d read about the hotel being rebuilt on the same spot where fifty-seven people had died in 1936, after a fire had swept through the original hotel. This place was said to be identical.
A fierce cold seemed to envelop the helicopter. He shivered and looked over at the young pilot, wondering if it was only his imagination or if Harrison felt it, too.
Harrison was frowning, seemingly intent on flying the chopper, and having some difficulty.
“You should be able to put it down in the parking lot,” Raymond said. Thunder cracked, so close he felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Right behind it came a loud boom.
The pilot had to yell to be heard over it. “No way are we putting this baby down up there. The chopper’s too light for the kind of wind coming down off that mountain. It would be suicide to try to land up there.”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Raymond demanded when Harrison started to turn the chopper around and head back the way they’d come. Raymond could see the clearing. They were too close to turn back.
He pulled his gun from the holster and pointed it at Harrison. “Fly this chopper as if your life depended on it and take me to the hotel.”
Harrison looked from Raymond to the gun in his hand and smiled, while still fighting to keep the chopper in the air. “I knew when I woke up this morning this wasn’t going to be my day.”
Raymond looked out. He couldn’t see the lights of Fernhaven through the pouring rain. “You think I won’t shoot you?”
There was a loud thunk and the engine sputtered. “Shooting me might be the kindest thing you can do right now,” Harrison said as he fought the controls.