Chapter Seventeen
The ride from the airport to the mansion felt almost as long as the flight to Aspen. Wilhelm called Gunther to reassure himself everything was fine. When Gunther didn’t answer, he started to dial Juliette, but his phone rang before he could finish it. Detective Frasier sounded like he might be in a bar.
“We’ve got him,” he said. “The guy who shot at you spilled everything—how he’d been paid to rig your brother’s car and then eliminate you when you weren’t willing to hand over the kids. Combined with Ralph Marcoby’s financial records, it won’t matter if he fights it to the end. We’ve got him.”
Relief washed over Wilhelm. “Thank you, Detective.”
“Considering he made an attempt on your life today, he’s not going to get approved for any kind of bail, so he’ll be sitting in a cell until trial. And depending on how hard he lawyers up and how many motions they file, that could be a couple of years.”
He couldn’t wait to tell Juliette that the nightmare was over. And it relieved him even more that right after telling her about Ralph’s threat to take him to court to get custody, he could explain how that was impossible now.
That relieved him even more than the idea that his brother’s apprehended. In a couple of short days, he’d grown so attached to the twins, he couldn’t imagine losing them.
He hung up, and thought about calling Juliette, but they were only a couple of miles away from the mansion. News like that was best delivered in person.
He sniffed the air, curling his nose at the acrid scent of smoke. He was already weary of the scent, but this was different. This wasn’t from the morgue in Aspen. There was smoke in the air.
“Wilhelm!” Sven’s hands white-knuckled the steering wheel as he stared ahead, agape. They were a hill and a few curves away from the mansion, but the black smoke cloud hanging in the air was directly above where it must be.
No. No, no, no.
They rounded the last curve that would bring the mansion into sight, and Wilhelm’s heart stopped in his chest. It looked like someone had scooped the building out with a giant-sized shovel. The top half of the front face of the mansion was completely gone, and what was left was in flames.
The driveway was lined with emergency vehicles. Police cars, fire trucks, an ambulance. They blocked in the black Mercedes Gunther drove along with a white Toyota.
Juliette’s car.
Wilhelm opened the door and leapt from the car while it was still rolling, pushing aside the first police officer who grabbed his shoulders to stop him. Another shouted “Sir!” and grabbed his arm, but Wilhelm slung him away like a rag doll, his only thought to get inside that house.
“Juliette!” he bellowed, fighting through the police and firefighters intent on blocking his way. “Juliette!”
Flames shot toward them, something exploding inside the house, and Wilhelm knew he couldn’t make it through that fire, not even for Juliette. Not even for the babies.
The babies.
Juliette.
“My family’s in there!” he shouted, his voice breaking as he pushed forward again, deciding that he didn’t care how hot the flames were, he’d get through them or die trying. Oh my God, Juliette . . .
His tiger howled as Wilhelm roared her name and tried to disentangle himself from the men shouting that he couldn’t go in there, that he needed to calm down. Grief and horror overwhelmed him, and he dropped to his knees, at least eight men hanging onto him in case he bolted forward.
“Wilhelm!” A sweet voice came from behind him, far behind him. “Wilhelm, we’re here!”
They let go of him enough that he could turn, and on the far curve of the driveway Juliette and Gunther emerged from behind an ambulance, each holding a baby. A healthy, whole baby. Juliette handed Leah to Gunther and ran for him.
“Juliette,” he breathed, then tore away from the hands that held him. In a few great bounds he reached her. He wrapped her in his arms and lifted her off her feet as he buried his face against her neck and sobbed. “Oh God, I thought I’d lost you. I thought I’d lost you all.”
“No,” she cried. “We were leaving when it happened. All of us are okay.” Her voice shook with emotion that tore at Wilhelm’s heart. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t warn you. My phone died after we called for help and all these people just arrived and—”
Wilhelm kissed her, cutting off her explanation. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was she was there now, unharmed. He cupped her cheek in his hands. “All I care about is that you’re safe.”
He stroked her face, unashamed of the tears that streamed down his own. “The thought that you—that the babies—I thought I’d lose my mind. But you’re here. You’re all here.” He kissed her again, then lifted and spun her for the sheer joy of holding her close.
His family was safe. They were safe, and everything was going to be okay.