Page 57 of Mountain Struggle

Tess promised Damien she’d stay home, claiming she wanted to catch up on her writing. He wasn’t sure whether she was still scared or just wanted to reassure him.

As soon as he arrived in the office, Jens and Drake followed him inside. Both men looked like they hadn’t slept much, and Damien felt a moment of guilt.

“Any luck?” he asked, while he took off his jacket. He already knew from the men’s frowns what the answer was.

“We have a list of over eighty cars to go through still.” Drake cleared his throat. “But something arrived fifteen minutes ago—a letter.”

Damien stopped what he was doing and stared back at the men. “A letter?”

“Addressed to you, Commandant. It came inside a bigger box, and the letter itself was wrapped around a large rock. The mailroom team opened it and took it to the lab, but I have a copy here for you.”

Damien grabbed the photocopy. A large, almost childish scrawl stared back at him.

Five years ago, you ruined my life. Now I’m going to do the same to you. Nobody you love will ever besafe.

He flipped the paper around, forgetting it was a copy.

“There was nothing else, Damien, just those three sentences,” Drake confirmed, his expression guarded.

Damien sat at his desk, still holding the paper in his hand. His heart sped up as he reread the threat. He’d gotten threats before—not many, but a few. None of them ended up meaning anything. But this one felt different. It was too much of a coincidence, coming so soon after Tess’s accident—the two things had to be related.

“Yesterday we thought maybe that Russian billionaire was holding a grudge, but he got on a plane shortly after—claims he’ll never return to France, and is in fact thinking of suing the French government for false advertising,” Drake said. “And now, with the mention of something that happened five years ago …”

“Get Isolde Durant here, please.”

With a sharp nod that reminded Damien of his friend’s military background, Drake left the office. Jens stood there, looking at him sympathetically.

“The threat is growing. I’m calling in the team. We’ll meet in the conference room in an hour, but I’d like you to do me a favor. Go to my place and stay with Tess and Jamie today.”

Jens nodded, flexing his large muscles. “I’ll be their shadow, Commandant.”

Damien called Tess to let her know Jens was on his way and reiterate the warning for them to stay home. He was hanging up when he saw Drake escorting a curvy young woman towards his office.

That was quick.

It shouldn’t have surprised him—Isolde Durant’s office was on the top floor of the building. Damien had been there before—the windows were large, with a superb view of Mont Blanc. Apparently the view encouraged Dr. Durant’s patients to open up to her.

“Commandant,” she said respectfully.

“Thanks for coming, Dr. Durant.”

“Isolde, please,” she said quickly.

“Please sit, Isolde. Did Drake update you as to what happened?”

“Only the basics, but I’d like to hear the rest from you,” she said, looking behind her to see where Drake had settled. The man stood by the window, his back ramrod straight—Damien remembered now what he’d forgotten before, that Drake and Isolde had met before, and were not on the best of terms.

Over the next three minutes, Damien updated the police psychologist on everything that had happened to date.

She sat with her hands primly clasped in front of her, listening intently. Finally, she spoke. Her voice had a soothing tone to it.

“With all due respect, Commandant, I’m not sure how much help I’ll be. I’m a police psychologist—not a criminal profiler.” Her hands shifted inwards until she was pointing at herself. Damien’s gaze followed to take in her black pants, paired with a tunic-like pale blue shirt and black suit jacket that did nothing to disguise her generous curves. On her feet, she wore a pair of professional-looking black leather pumps.

Damien looked into her honey-colored eyes. “I know that. We’ll try to get a profiler from Annecy in as soon as possible.” He lowered his voice. “What I’m asking for here is a personal favor. I’d like to hear your opinion about this letter—my team and I need all the help we can get. Please, Isolde.”

“Okay,” she acceded. With her foot she pushed out the other visitor’s chair towards Drake, who took the hint and sat down as well. “I agree with you that it’s too much of a coincidence, coming right after the incident you just told me about. Whoever wrote this letter was angry.”

“How do you know that?” Damien asked. “Is it the scrawl?”