Chapter 3 - The Man From the Mountain
Claire stopped breathing.
"That's him."
Gabriel turned.
The man in the doctor's coat saw Claire.
For half a second, nobody moved.
Then the stranger ran.
Gabriel was after him before Claire could speak again.
The hallway exploded into motion.
Noah shouted for security.
The stranger hit the stairwell door.
Gabriel followed.
Claire heard the heavy slam of metal two floors below.
Then nothing.
Dr. Shaw rushed toward her.
"Back inside."
Claire refused.
"Gabriel!"
No answer.
Her heart pounded.
The baby shifted hard beneath her ribs.
Claire placed both hands over her stomach.
"I'm okay," she whispered.
She wasn't sure whether she was talking to the baby or herself.
Two minutes later Noah's radio crackled.
"Roof access!"
Noah ran.
Claire stayed beside Dr. Shaw, furious at her own weakness.
For years Michael had told her she panicked under pressure.
That she needed him for difficult decisions.
That she was emotional.
Too trusting.
Soft.
Now the man who had tried to erase her was attending planning meetings for her funeral while she hid inside a private clinic.
Softness had not nearly killed her.
Trusting the wrong person had.
There was a difference.
Gabriel returned twelve minutes later.
A cut marked his knuckle.
"You caught him?"
"No."
Claire's disappointment showed.
"He had a motorcycle waiting."
"Who is he?"
"You tell me."
"I don't know his name."
"You saw him with Michael?"
She nodded.
"Where?"
"The overlook."
Gabriel closed the door.
"Start from the beginning."
Claire searched her memory.
Michael had parked near the overlook shortly after noon.
There had been another vehicle.
A dark SUV.
Claire had asked whose it was.
Michael claimed he didn't know.
Then, during their argument, Claire had seen someone in the distance near the trail marker.
A man.
Black jacket.
Gray cap.
Watching them.
"I thought he was a hiker."
"You saw his face?"
"Once."
"When?"
"After I fell."
Gabriel stared at her.
"You were conscious?"
"For seconds."
The memory surfaced.
Snow.
Pain.
Michael above.
Then another face looking over the edge.
The same man who had just entered the clinic.
"He asked Michael if I was breathing."
Gabriel's expression changed.
"What did Michael say?"
Claire closed her eyes.
"I couldn't hear."
"Try."
She forced herself back into the memory.
Wind.
Blood in her mouth.
Michael's voice distant.
Then words.
Two words.
"No pulse."
Claire opened her eyes.
"He said I didn't have a pulse."
Gabriel's jaw tightened.
"But he never checked."
"He didn't need to."
"Why?"
Claire stared at him.
"Because he wanted the other man to believe I was dead."
Gabriel understood.
Michael might have had accomplices.
But even they might not know Claire survived.
"That's useful."
"How?"
"If Michael doesn't know you're alive, he can't adjust his plan."
Claire looked at the photograph from the hospital.
"Somebody knows."
"Yes."
"But maybe not Michael."
Gabriel nodded.
That possibility mattered.
Noah returned.
"We found the doctor's coat. Fake badge. No prints."
Gabriel showed him Claire's description.
"Run every camera from the parking deck."
Noah left.
Claire watched Gabriel.
"You give orders like you're used to it."
"I am."
"Security company?"
"Partly."
"What's the other part?"
Gabriel looked toward the window.
"My father ran businesses that weren't always legal."
Claire waited.
"He died when I was twenty-four. I spent years cleaning up what he left."
"That's why you look like..."
"A mafia boss?"
She almost smiled.
"Yes."
"The tattoos don't help."
"No."
"Was he one?"
Gabriel considered the question.
"He would've called himself a businessman."
Claire understood enough.
"And you?"
"I left."
"For mountain rescue?"
"Eventually."
"Why?"
He looked at her bandaged hands.
"Because I wanted to start finding people instead of losing them."
Claire didn't ask more.
Some answers were too personal for strangers.
Yet Gabriel no longer felt entirely like a stranger.
By sunset Noah had identified the man.
Ethan Voss.
Former military medic.
Currently employed by Northbridge Risk Consultants.
Claire knew the company.
"Michael hired them."
"When?"
"Last year. Corporate security."
Gabriel leaned over Noah's laptop.
"Northbridge is more than corporate security."
"What does that mean?"
"They handle problems."
Claire stared at him.
"What kind of problems?"
"The kind that don't appear on invoices."
That night Gabriel moved Claire again.
No ambulance.
No records.
A private vehicle took them to a lodge owned by the Rourke family on the edge of a forest reserve.
Only Gabriel, Noah, Dr. Shaw, and two trusted guards knew Claire was there.
Claire slept for three hours.
When she woke, Gabriel sat at a table studying documents.
"You don't sleep?"
"Sometimes."
She slowly sat.
"What are those?"
"Everything Noah could find on Michael."
Claire looked at the photograph clipped to the top.
Her husband smiled from a charity gala.
Michael Carter had always photographed well.
That had been part of his talent.
He could make lies look respectable.
"Anything useful?"
"Debt."
Claire frowned.
"Michael doesn't have debt."
"He has eight million dollars of it."
She stared at Gabriel.
"Where?"
"Private lenders. Shell companies. Gambling accounts."
Claire felt sick.
Michael had spent years criticizing Claire's grandfather for controlling money.
Now she understood why.
"What else?"
"Northbridge received three payments from a company Michael controls."
"How much?"
"Nine hundred thousand."
Her fingers tightened.
"For what?"
"No service description."
Claire looked away.
Nine hundred thousand dollars.
Enough money to make an accident.
Enough to buy silence.
Enough to prepare a body?
"Gabriel."
"Yes?"
"We need to know who's in that coffin."
He nodded.
"I already sent Noah."
Claire looked at the clock.
2:13 a.m.
"My funeral starts in seven hours."
Gabriel closed the folder.
"You're not going."
Claire said nothing.
"Claire."
"What would you do?"
"If someone held my funeral?"
"If someone stood beside your mother and lied about murdering you."
Gabriel's expression didn't change.
"I'd probably make a very bad decision."
"Exactly."
"Which is why I'm qualified to recognize one."
Despite everything, Claire laughed once.
It hurt her ribs.
She winced.
Gabriel immediately stood.
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not."
"I've been better."
He handed her water.
Claire drank slowly.
Then she saw the silver bracelet on the table.
The one found beside her.
"What are the numbers?"
Gabriel picked it up.
"Four-one-seven."
"I didn't scratch them."
"Could Michael?"
"He never wore this."
"Whose is it?"
Claire studied the bracelet.
It wasn't hers.
Gabriel turned it.
Inside the clasp were initials.
E.V.
Ethan Voss.
Claire's stomach tightened.
"The man from the mountain."
Gabriel nodded.
"He dropped it."
"Then what does 417 mean?"
"We don't know."
Claire thought.
Michael kept dozens of passwords.
Dates.
Addresses.
Room numbers.
"Maybe a hotel room."
"Maybe."
At 4:30 a.m., Noah called.
Gabriel answered.
His face changed.
"What happened?"
Claire watched him.
"Noah?"
Gabriel put the phone on speaker.
Noah whispered.
"I'm inside the chapel."
Claire's heart slammed.
"Did you see the coffin?"
"Yes."
"Can you open it?"
Silence.
Then metal clicked softly.
Noah breathed.
"It's not locked."
Claire gripped the blanket.
Gabriel said, "Do it."
More movement.
Then Noah stopped.
"Jesus."
Claire stood despite the pain.
"What?"
Noah didn't answer.
"Who is it?"
Finally his voice returned.
"The woman in this coffin is pregnant."
Claire nearly dropped the phone.
"What?"
"About your age. Same hair color. Same build."
Gabriel's face hardened.
A substitute.
A body chosen to resemble Claire.
Noah continued.
"Her face is damaged."
Claire closed her eyes.
Michael hadn't merely attempted murder.
Someone else was already dead.
"Can you identify her?"
"I'm checking."
Papers rustled.
Then Noah went silent.
"Noah?"
Nothing.
Gabriel grabbed the phone.
"Answer me."
Claire heard footsteps through the speaker.
Slow.
Approaching Noah.
He whispered one sentence.
May you like
"Someone just entered the chapel."
Then the call disconnected.
