He’d missed her second check-in call. The one opportunity he’d had to pull out his phone, it had reported
No Service
. They’d discussed what he’d do if she failed to contact him, but had made no plans in the event that he didn’t respond.
She was a smart woman, and not prone to hysterics. She’d be all right. He thought he would have heard gunfire, even at this height, if there’d been any trouble below. Of course, a small-caliber weapon with a silencer was another story.... He pushed the thought away and focused on inching farther down the slope. This next section of the climb was covered in deep snow, making it difficult to plan stable footing.
He stopped to rest, and to review his plans once he reached the house. He’d find cover, preferably with a view into the house, and try to locate Anne. If she was all right, he’d simply observe until she left safely, and he’d somehow make his way around to the road and back to the car. That was the most optimistic scenario, but not the most likely.
The most likely scenario was that there’d be trouble, probably when Anne tried to leave. Though her brother had promised a happy reunion and safe passage, Jake couldn’t believe Sam Giardino would give anyone who had betrayed him once—even his daughter—the opportunity to do so again. He might not kill Anne, but he’d make her his prisoner, and Jake would be the only one who could save her.
His determination renewed by this thought, he resumed his descent, pushing himself to move faster, to be bolder. He had no time to waste. If the Giardinos decided to move Anne to another location, he might lose her again, a chance he didn’t want to take.
Clinging to a rock handhold, he lowered himself onto a narrow ledge and checked his progress. He’d made it almost halfway. The house, a sprawling assemblage of glass and gray rock, looked much larger from this angle. If Jake moved faster, he could be to the wall directly behind the structure in another half hour or so. Encouraged, he positioned himself for his next step down.
The ledge gave way beneath him and he began to slide. He scrambled for a handhold in the rock, but found only loose dirt and ice. Snow filled his mouth and nose, and jagged rock tore at his clothes as he gained momentum, sliding and bouncing down the steep slope, unable to stop his fall.
Chapter Nineteen
The meal finally ended with coffee and brandy. Sammy had switched to scotch, despite the fact that it was only twelve-thirty. “I have to go the ladies’ room,” Anne said as they stood to leave the table. It was true, but she also hoped to use the opportunity to try Jake’s phone again, and to call Patrick.
“Show her where it is, Stacy,” Sam said.
Stacy, who was cleaning Carlo’s hands and face, looked annoyed, but she handed the boy to Veronica and motioned for Anne to follow. Sammy grabbed his sister’s arm as she passed. “Give me your phone,” he said.
“No!” She tried to pull away from him.
“We can’t have you sneaking off to call someone you shouldn’t. Now, hand it over.”
“Let go of me.” She kicked him hard in the shin. He grunted and lashed out, catching her on the side of the face.
Levi moved to intervene, pulling Sammy away. Anne glared at him, and straightened her clothes. Her father came up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. “You know I don’t hold with manhandling women,” he said. “But Elizabeth, I do need you to hand over your phone.”
“If I don’t check in with Jake, he’ll send someone after me,” she said.
“I’m sure we can deal with anyone who tries to get too close,” Sam said. “You may have noticed when you drove in that this place is well-positioned for defense.”
She’d counted six guards on the way in; there were probably twice that many out of sight, patrolling the grounds. They’d be well armed and well-trained, a private army sworn to defend her father from anyone he perceived as an enemy. Why had she and Jake ever assumed that Patrick had the forces at his disposal to take this place? Even if he could assemble a large enough force, he couldn’t move in without risking the lives of innocent—or mostly innocent—women and children.
“Your phone.” Sam held out his hand.
She surrendered the phone, then followed Stacy to the ladies’ room. To her surprise, the other woman followed her inside. “Are you supposed to guard me?” Anne asked.
“I wanted to talk to you.” Stacy glanced over her shoulder. “Alone.”
“About what?”
“Why did you come back here?” Stacy asked, keeping her voice low.
“I wanted to see my father. And I wanted to find out who has been trying to kill me. Sammy says it isn’t my father, and I think I believe him.”
“I don’t know anything about that, but you’ve stepped into the middle of a war zone. Your father and Sammy are at each other’s throats all the time. I’m sure they’re going to kill each other.”
“Sammy’s always had a temper, but he isn’t stupid,” Anne said.
“I used to think that, too, but now I’m not so sure. If I could get out of here with my son, I would. You were a fool to come back.”
On that note, she turned and left, slamming the door behind her.
Anne used the bathroom, washed her hands and stepped out into the hall once more. Levi was waiting for her. “I’ll take you back to your father, Miss Elizabeth,” he said. He spoke in the tone of some staid family retainer. If she closed her eyes, she might imagine he was a butler or footman from a fine home at the turn of the last century.
But when she opened her eyes, his muscular build and the shoulder holster he wore in plain view would give away his true role. And to think she’d grown up accepting this as a perfectly normal way to live.
He led her, not to the great room where they’d been before lunch, but to a smaller side room that served as a study or library. Her father sat in a leather chair before a fireplace lit by a gas log, and motioned for her to sit across from him. “Is this your office?” she asked, remembering he’d instructed the guards to have his guest wait there.
“No.”
“Don’t you need to deal with your visitor?” she said. “I can wait.”
“Don’t worry about things that don’t concern you.”
How many times growing up had she heard those exact words? Strangers coming to the house, phone calls in the middle of the night, the need to suddenly relocate for a few weeks or months—these were all deemed matters that were none of her business. The women in the family, including Elizabeth, were supposed to keep quiet, obey and never ask too many questions. She couldn’t believe she’d accepted this role for so long, though, as her father’s clear favorite, she’d been allowed more leeway than anyone else. Would he accept the same degree of rebellion from her now?
“Elizabeth, tell me what you’ve been up to,” he said.
She smoothed her hands across her thighs, and chose her words carefully. “I’ve been fine,” she said. “Staying busy.” She wouldn’t tell him she’d been living in a small town and teaching school; he’d think such things beneath her. All her life she’d heard how she wasn’t like “working people.” He might even become angry if she told him she’d become one of that despised lot.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said before,” he said. “About someone trying to kill you. I wonder if one of my enemies sent this DiCello fellow after you as a way of getting to me. Perhaps he wanted to frame me.”
“Can you think of someone who would do that?” she asked.
A ghost of a smile played about his lips. “I have many enemies, but I can’t think of one in particular who would take that convoluted approach to revenge. Or maybe DiCello knew about my outburst in court and thought he could impress me and work his way back into my good graces by doing me this ‘favor.’”
“I thought you said he left to be closer to his mother and sister.”
Sam waved his hand in dismissal. “We had a bit of a disagreement before he went. I thought his loyalties were too divided.”
“Between you and who?” Who else would one of her father’s men be loyal to?
“He and your brother had become good friends. Sammy thought he had the right to give orders to one of my people. I had to set him straight.”
She winced inwardly. She was sure Sammy wouldn’t have enjoyed that particular “lesson,” which probably involved humiliating him in front of the men.
“Did you say this attack in your home wasn’t the only one?” Sam prompted.
“After DiCello died there were two more attempts on my life,” she said. “The fire in the cabin, and the car that tried to run us off the road.”
“Two of my men disappeared last week, along with one of our cars,” her father said. “I’ve been too busy with other matters to trace them, but I wonder if there’s a connection.” He leaned forward and patted her hand. “Let me check into it and see what I can find out.”
Silence stretched between them while her father stared into the fire and Anne wondered how she was going to get away from here. “Would you please return my phone?” she asked.
“I’ll get you a new one,” he said. “One of ours.” Meaning a phone on which he could monitor the calls, she knew.
“It’s been wonderful seeing you again,” she said, making her voice as gentle as possible.
“It’s wonderful to have you back.” He took her hand between both of his.
“I hope I’ll see you again soon,” she said. “But I can’t stay.”
“I’ll send someone to your hotel for the rest of your things,” he said. “Until then, I’m sure Stacy has clothes you can borrow if you need anything.”
“Dad, I have to go.” She pulled her hand from his and stood.
“You don’t have to go anywhere,” he father said. “Not now that you’re back where you belong.”
She backed toward the door, knowing there were guards there to stop her, but determined to try. She wouldn’t quietly surrender to being made a prisoner. She would fight, and she wouldn’t stop fighting.
A heavy hand on her shoulder stopped her. “You always thought you could get your way, didn’t you?”
She smelled the scotch on her brother’s breath before she turned to look at him. “Perfect Elizabeth,” he sneered. “The child who could do no wrong. But you’ve done nothing but wrong lately. Starting with bringing a federal agent home and into your bed. You sold out your family for the sake of lust. Does that make you proud?”
“I won’t have you talking to your sister that way,” Sam said. “She’s made some mistakes, but now she realizes she was wrong—”
“She doesn’t realize anything. You didn’t see them, Pop, I did. Her and that fed, two cozy lovebirds, plotting to hand you over to the authorities. As soon as she walks out of here, the agents will swoop in and lock you in handcuffs.” He moved to stand between her and his father. “Don’t you see, she’s just here to betray you again. She’s not your perfect little girl. She’s a viper who wants to destroy you.”
Sam stared at her. “Is that true?” he asked. “Did you really come here to betray me?”
“No! I wanted to see you. And to find out who was trying to kill me and...” And to help Jake and Patrick arrest him again. To him, that was betrayal. To her, it was justice, but in this case they meant the same things.
“I already told you, I had nothing to do with those attempts on your life,” he said. “You’re my daughter, and you always will be.”
“It would be better for all of us if you were dead,” Sammy said. “I should have gone after Jake from the beginning. With him out of the way, you never would have survived the fire, or the drive to Telluride.”
Anne stared at him, stunned and sick to her stomach. How could her brother, whom she’d loved, speak such hate-filled words? “Are you saying you were the one who was after me?” she asked.
“Samuel, what is the meaning of this?” her father demanded.
“I was doing it for you, Pop,” Sammy said. “She didn’t deserve to live after what she did to you. And with her finally out of the way, we could move on. You’d stop worrying about her and focus on me.”
Her father’s face was ashen. “You had no right,” he said.
“I had every right. I’m the one who stayed home. The one who remained loyal. But it didn’t mean anything to you.” His voice shook, and his eyes were dilated, wild.
“Sammy, calm down,” Anne said.
“No! I’m tired of waiting around for what is rightfully mine.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a pistol.
“Sammy, no!” she screamed.
But it was too late. Sammy fired the pistol, the report deafening in the small room. Sam clutched at his chest, blood spurting between his fingers while Anne looked on, horrified.
While Sam was still falling, Sammy turned the gun on Anne. “You won’t get away from me this time,” he said.
She screamed, but the scream was drowned out by another gunshot. Sammy jerked back from the force of the blow, then sank to his knees. Anne stared at the window behind her father’s chair, the glass shattered in a thousand pieces. Jake stepped through the opening, his gun fixed on Sammy. “Are you all right?” he asked Anne.
She nodded, too shocked to speak, then knelt beside her father just as her brother collapsed beside her.
* * *
T
HE
DEEP
SNOW
had saved Jake’s life, and delivered him to the house in record time. He’d ended up tobogganing down the slope on his belly and landing in an avalanche of thick powder at the base of the rock wall behind the house. He was banged up, with a rip in his pants and a gash in his leg that oozed a thin line of blood, but he was alive and whole—and apparently no one had noticed his spectacular descent.
He stood and brushed off as much snow as he could, then drew his gun, removed the safety and checked the load. All around him was quiet, and he saw no one. Keeping low and out of sight of the windows, he reached the back of the house, then crept around the side toward the sound of raised voices. Before he could identify the speakers, a gunshot shattered the silence.
Jake rushed forward, in time to see Sammy turn his gun on Anne. He fired, shattering the window and striking the younger man in the middle of the back. He didn’t even remember stepping through the broken glass and moving to Anne’s side. “Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded, and knelt beside her father, but he was beyond help, his face forever frozen in an expression of surprise.
Jake turned to Sammy, who lay gasping on the rug, blood seeping from a hole in his chest. “We should call an ambulance,” Anne said.
Jake thought it was too late for that, but who was he to say, considering how he himself had defied the odds? He looked for someone to make the call and found himself face-to-face with three men with guns, all of them pointed at him.
“Call 9-1-1,” he ordered, ignoring the weapons.
No one moved. “Put those guns away and call for help!” Anne shouted.
The men looked at each other. “All right, Miss Elizabeth,” one said, and the rest followed him out of the room.
Anne moved to her brother’s side. He stared up at her, vacant-eyed. “Sammy, hang on,” she pleaded, gripping his hand.
“I just...wanted him...to be proud...of me,” Sammy gasped.
“He was,” she said. “I know he was.”
Sammy’s eyes closed and Anne choked back a sob. Jake pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he said. Not sorry he’d protected her, but sorry she had to go through this, to lose her family, no matter how bad they were.
Shouting and the sounds of running feet came from the front of the house. Jake stood, and pulled Anne to her feet behind him. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Jake! Anne!” a man bellowed.
“Patrick!” Anne called. “We’re in here.”
The U.S. marshal, dressed in black fatigues and carrying an assault rifle, appeared in the doorway of the room, flanked by two similarly clad officers. He took in the two men on the floor. “Sam Giardino and his son?” he asked.
“We need an ambulance,” Anne said. “Sammy—”
Thompson was already kneeling beside the younger Giardino. “It’s too late for an ambulance,” he said. He moved to Anne. “Come with me. I’ve got a team ready to relocate you right away, before anyone here even realizes you’re gone.”
“I...” She looked around the room, confused. “Sammy’s dead?”
Thompson nodded. “Come on,” he said, one hand on her shoulder. “We have to go.”
“Wait!” She wrenched away from him. “Senator Nordley. You’ve got to stop Senator Nordley.”
“What about Nordley?” Thompson asked Jake.
Jake shook his head. “Is the senator here?” he asked Anne.
“He arrived while we were eating lunch and my father told one of his men to put him in his office to wait.”