“No, why?”
“Where are you?”
“On my way to the helipad,” he says. “I was going to join the search party.”
“Stay outdoors while we’re on the phone.”
He catches my drift. “You’re afraid Kurt Ozzi bugged the palace? They swept it again as recently as yesterday…”
“Who?”
“Palace security and Carlo’s agents…” Max’s voice trails off and the penny drops. “You don’t trust Carlo anymore.”
“How many people know about my mission to find the third key?”
“A handful.”
“Exactly. How did Kurt find out I was going to be in that helicopter at that particular time and place? Carlo had the threat level at low.”
There’s a brief silence before Max speaks, “I hear you. Let me talk to Uncle Richard and Mother. We’ll devise a plan.”
“Whatever you decide, don’t involve anyone outside of the most trusted circle,” I say. “We should consider Carlo and MESS as compromised, all of it.”
“Understood.”
We hang up, and I return to Elise’s side, informing her that a search is underway for Darrel and Jordan.
“Darrel is indestructible,” I repeat like a mantra. “He’s alive. They’ll find him.”
“I have faith,” she says.
As we walk through the village, my mood lightens. I take in the smoke curling out of the chimneys, the snowmen in the front yards, and the variety of cute shops and cafés. We pass a skating rink full of townsfolk having fun. Even more fun is had on a nearby playground where children with red cheeks and dressed in puffy outwear pelt one another with snowballs or lay down and make snow angels.
We step into the lobby of the hotel Le Vosier. It’s warm and decorated like a ski lodge. It’s only then that I realize how much I’m in need of a shower. I book two deluxe rooms for the night, one for Theodor Delaroche and the other for his associate Elise Pontet. She shoots me a surprised look.
I believe I owe her an explanation.
Before heading upstairs, I take Elise to the hotel’s well-stocked souvenir shop, where I buy two sets of clothes and underwear for each of us, as well as some necessities and travel bags.
We agree to meet at the restaurant in an hour to read more letters over brunch.
Forty-five minutes later, I head across the lobby toward the restaurant. Stone fireplaces and wooden ceiling beams with chandeliers, combined with oil paintings and vintage skis on the walls, create a warm, welcoming atmosphere. I catch myself wishing I’d met Elise before my latest conversation with Heidi. In that case, I would not have hesitated to book the honeymoon suite so that we could enjoy one more night together.
In the restaurant, the maître d’ takes me to a table for two by a tall window that offers an amazing view of the Alpine peaks. I open the menu, enjoying the blended scent of coffee, fried eggs, and warm bread fresh from the oven.
Five minutes later, Elise arrives. The waiters bring us fragrant coffee and fresh-squeezed orange juice. We place our order.
“I’m starving,” I say.
“Me too.”
“Is the room to your liking?”
She nods, uncommonly subdued. “It’s great, thank you.”
“A bit more comfortable than our last night’s accommodations, isn’t it?” I try to joke.
Her lips paint a half smile.
