Page 5 of Mountain Shadow

“Sarah? Sarah Porter?”

“How—how do you know my name?” she said, wishing her voice sounded stronger. Her teeth were chattering.

“My name is Jens Melkopf. Lieutenant Jens Melkopf.” His voice was deep and lightly accented. She got the feeling he was purposely softening it for her benefit.

Is he German? Austrian?

“I’m with the Peloton de Gendarmerie de Haute Montagne. Damien Gray is my boss.”

Mont Blanc’s Search & Rescue team.

He knows Damien.

Sarah felt her legs give up on her. She slid down on the floor, her back against the door.

“Are you okay?”

He must have heard the thump.

Tears built up behind her eyes. She didn’t remember the last time she’d felt okay.

Focus on the facts, Sarah.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” she whispered.

When the answer came, his voice sounded closer. He seemed to have followed her voice, and was crouching down low on the other side of the door to speak with her.

“I also know Tess.”

He sounded so earnest, but there was still the other man to consider. This could be some kind of elaborate trick to get her to take her guard down.

“Please call her and put her on loudspeaker,” Sarah asked. “I need to speak with her, and my phone is out of battery.”

He sighed.

“I can’t call her right now. Open the door and I’ll explain everything, please.”

His voice sounded earnest, and Sarah wanted so badly to believe him, but her head throbbed. She needed to be cautious.

Why isn’t he calling Tess?

You can’t trust anyone else.

“No … I can’t … Please find Tess and Damien.”

“We met once, you know?” he continued, speaking softly once again. His calm, deep voice was almost hypnotic. “The first time you came to Chamonix. I was in the bar with Damien and the rest of the team when you came in.”

In her mind, Sarah groaned. Not her finest moment. She’d been worried about her little sister’s infatuation with Damien Gray, so she’d taken a detour during a trip to Paris and come to Chamonix. She’d found Damien at a bar and had tried to seduce him—just to see what he would do. In response, he’d driven her home to see her sister.

She was so caught in the embarrassing memory, it took her a few seconds to realize the significance of what he’d said. Which was interesting, because she was a quick thinker usually, fast to find connections.

One has to be, as a radio host.

God, she missed her job.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. She wanted to go back home, to London. To her garden flat, her early morning walks to the station. To the thrill of running her radio show and interacting with listeners. She even missed her Marks & Spencer dinners in front of the TV.

She kicked herself back to the present.