Mistletoe Magic by Fern Michaels (25)

They all agreed to meet at Snow Zone at ten o’clock. Claire’s entire family plus a few extras had all accepted her invitation when she asked them to come skiing last night. Part of her was beyond excited for her family to meet Quinn, and another part of her was afraid they wouldn’t like him. She hadn’t told them about his wealth, and she certainly hadn’t mentioned they flew to Telluride on his private jet.

On the slopes, everyone was having a good time. Claire assumed Quinn could ski since he knew how to do most everything else, and he hadn’t said otherwise. The downside: He’d insisted they have separate hotel rooms when they arrived yesterday. She’d told him about Max’s owning the resort. Though she’d fantasized about spending the night in Quinn’s arms, it would wait. And they both decided it wouldn’t look good if someone were to catch them sleeping in the same hotel room. Claire had thought it old-fashioned and courtly. She hadn’t met a man quite like Quinn, and she didn’t want to take a chance on anything. If he wanted to wait a while before they took their relationship to the next level, she was perfectly fine with it, however much her hormones said otherwise.

So here she was, all decked out in the latest ski fashions, courtesy of Stephanie and Patrick. When she realized she was planning a ski meet with no gear, they’d opened up the shop after hours and let her choose whatever she wanted and insisted it was on the house. She seemed to be getting a lot of things on the house lately.

But now here she was. Almost ten o’clock, and there was no sign of Quinn or her family members. Had she said ten o’clock? And they were all supposed to be here at Snow Zone. She went inside, expecting to see Stephanie but saw a young girl working the register. She must be Candy Lee. Amanda and Ashley talked nonstop about her whenever she spoke with them on the phone.

Bing Crosby billowed throughout the ski shop. The scent of warm chocolate filled the air. A giant Douglas fir was decorated with mini skis, tiny scarves, and hats. Red and green lights twinkled on the tree. Claire took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of fresh pine. This was almost too perfect, she thought as she walked up and down the aisles. All the jackets and ski pants were perfectly stacked in neat piles. Mittens, hats, and the usual ski supplies filled up the shelves next to the register. Claire knew the office was in the back of the store. But it wasn’t much larger than a closet, so there was no way everyone could fit in the office. And why would they be in there in the first place? There was no reason for any of them to hide. She’d simply got the time mixed up. She was a few days shy of her normal sleep pattern, plus the high altitudes. She’d spend her time looking at all the goodies the place had to offer. Briefly, she thought of purchasing a few gifts while she was here, but no one would appreciate them since they all had their own gear, and it was always top-of-the-line. She wished she could send for those three suitcases packed with gifts, but she’d have to wait and send them when she returned to California.

The thought actually depressed her. For the first time in her legal career, she wasn’t excited about her work. While she would always practice law—it was in her blood—she didn’t want to go back to work for Brock Ettinger. He’d betrayed her when he’d given out her personal information to Donald Flynn. There was no way she would work for a man like him anymore, not the new Claire.

As she poked around the shop, she suddenly realized that Quinn’s last name was different than his uncle’s. Shouldn’t they share the same last name if his father was Donald’s brother? She really hadn’t thought that much about it until now. She was sure there was a reasonable explanation for the difference in their names. Checking her watch, she saw that it was already ten thirty. Taking her cell phone from her pocket, she called Patrick since he seemed to be the one who always answered his cell.

“What’s up, Claire?”

“Aren’t we supposed to be meeting this morning? I thought I said ten o’clock.”

Silence. Unusual for her brother. “Patrick.”

“Uh, yeah, you did.”

“Then where is everyone? I’m usually the one who’s late.” Claire felt the first stirring of fear. Something wasn’t right, she could feel it in her gut. It couldn’t be good if her entire family was missing.

“I take it you haven’t seen the news.”

She’d slept in, not bothering with the television. “Patrick, if you don’t tell me what’s going on right now, I’m going to kick your ass. You’re scaring me.”

His intake of breath sounded raspy as though he were congested, or maybe he’d been . . . crying? “Okay, some whack job is in the main dining hall right now. Look around you.”

She did. The lifts weren’t running. The usual array of skiers who dotted the mountainside were gone. As a matter of fact, the only person she’d seen since she’d been up was Candy Lee. “Hold on, Patrick.” Claire went to the girl, who sat behind the register reading Suzanne Collins’s latest. “Aren’t you Candy Lee?”

The girl looked up from her book. “Yes, sorry I just get so involved when I’m reading. Is there something I can help you with?” she asked.

“Where is everybody?”

Candy Lee glanced out the front of the store. “Wow, no one is out there today. I wonder what gives?”

“Patrick, you better tell me what’s up. There is absolutely no one on the slopes, the lifts aren’t moving, and the only person I’ve come in contact with since I got up at nine thirty is Candy Lee. I want to know what’s going on, and I want to know right now! If you guys are playing some kind of silly prank, then just quit it because I don’t like this. I have a very bad feeling.”

“We were supposed to meet at ten, you’re right. Candy Lee was late getting to work. Stephanie and the girls called and said for me to have everyone meet in the main dining hall. I’m still at the house, Claire. The rest of the family is in that dining hall, and there is a man in there. He has a gun. No one has been hurt, but you need to stay inside. The police have the place surrounded. It’s on the news. Tell Candy to turn the TV on. Go on, do it now.”

Claire’s hands shook uncontrollably. “Turn the TV on now!” she screamed.

Candy Lee practically jumped off the barstool she was sitting on. “Jeez, give me a sec.” She found the remote and clicked the portable television set on. The scene on the monitor instantly became familiar. Candy Lee placed her hands over her mouth, her book dropping to the floor.

“This is here! What’s happening? Oh my gosh!” Candy’s eyes filled with tears.

Claire looked at the screen and saw several police cars with their lights flashing yet the sirens were off. It was eerily silent. Her hands continued to shake, but she knew she had to get control of herself. She and Candy were the only two, as far as she knew, who were free right now. Though the anchorwoman’s mouth moved, Claire couldn’t hear what she was saying. “Turn the volume up.”

Candy did as instructed.

“Patrick, are you still there?”

“I’m here, I’m listening. Hang on.”

Claire listened to the anchorwoman, who stood in front of the main dining hall at Maximum Glide.

“Oh my God.” Claire was stunned. Here, in Telluride, at this small but luxurious ski resort. “What happened, Patrick? Why did you fire this guy?”

“First Max has a zero drug policy. If you’re caught with anything, you’re history. No second chances. Last night, when I went to the kitchen to meet with the night manager, I saw Jeb acting strange, like he was trying to cover something up. He was using the table we use to roll out our bread dough to snort coke. He had a mirror and two lines of coke all nice and straight, ready to go right up his nose. When I asked him what he was doing, he looked at me and said, ‘What the F do you think I’m doing?’ I fired him on the spot and slapped the damned mirror where he’d laid his drugs, the coke went flying, the mirror broke. I told him he had two minutes to get off the property before I called the police. He left, and now it seems he’s returned. God, I could kick myself for not calling the cops when I had the opportunity. If something happens to those people in there, and most of them are our family, it’s all my fault. Stephanie and the girls are inside. Mom, Dad. Mark and Colleen, their boys. You and I are the only two, besides Candy Lee, who aren’t in the building. Quinn is there, too, you know that, right?”

Claire could only shake her head. “I assumed he was when I didn’t find him at Snow Zone. Of all days for Candy Lee to be late for work.” Claire lowered her voice when she said the last words. It wasn’t her fault, but had she arrived at work on time, maybe her family wouldn’t be trapped inside with that madman. “Have you heard anything from anyone inside? They all have cell phones. Has anyone tried to contact you?”

“No, and I thought they would at least try, but we don’t know what that crazy bastard’s likely to do. He may have taken their cell phones. Most likely that’s what’s happened. I just bought Amanda and Ashley cell phones to be used in an emergency. Stephanie and I both told them if they ever found themselves in trouble and couldn’t call, we made sure they know how to send a text message. I’ve checked my phone repeatedly, and there’s nothing.” Patrick sounded defeated, as if the very life had been sucked right out of him. Claire understood, as she felt the same way. Though she was new to this love thing, that didn’t make it any easier.

“So we wait? Isn’t there something you can do? A back door the cops can use to slip inside? Something that kook in there isn’t aware of?”

“Not that I know of. Give me a minute, let me think.”

Claire watched the anchorwoman, but she simply repeated what she’d just said minutes ago. There was nothing new to report. She hoped and prayed that was a good sign.

How could such a perfectly good plan go awry? Claire was having a tough time comprehending the sheer insanity of the situation, the odds of something like this happening here, in Telluride. Candy Lee shook with sobs, and Claire wanted to comfort her, but she was afraid to put her phone down for fear she’d lose her connection with Patrick. She knew he could talk, text, and answer incoming calls on his iPhone. She hated her old outdated BlackBerry just then and wished she’d purchased something new when it was all the rage. What a stupid thought to have at a time like this. Though she’d heard somewhere that when people were under extreme stress, their thoughts tended to be a bit haywire. She totally understood that now.

“Claire, are you still there?”

“I’m here.”

“I think there might be a way for the police to get inside without Jeb’s knowing.”

“Then hang up and call them now! Hurry!”

“I’m going to put you on hold, don’t hang up, okay?”

“I won’t,” Claire said, her eyes focused on the TV. Something was happening. The anchorwoman kept messing with her earpiece like she was having trouble hearing something, or someone. She turned around to look behind her. Claire and Candy Lee both stared at the scene unfolding live on the air.

“Oh my Gawd, that’s him!” Candy Lee said, pointing at the television set. “That’s that insane psycho, Jeb Norris!”

Captivated by the scenario Claire almost had a heart attack when she saw her mother and father being held at gunpoint out in the parking lot by the madman! The anchorwoman raced to get as close to the scene as the police would allow.

Jeb Norris couldn’t have been a day over twenty if that. He was medium height but much too thin. Claire saw the signs of drug abuse all over his face. The sunken cheeks, dark circles under his eyes, the manic way he stared into the camera. “Listen up!”

They did. The television, while live, was totally silent.

“These two are gonna be the first to go. I’m startin’ with the oldest ones first.”

Claire watched in horror as her father was shoved to the ground. Her mother tried to help him up, and when she did, the madman slapped her hard, sending her flying to the ground, her back slamming against the icy pavement. Tears fell from Claire’s eyes. She could not watch her parents die. Someone had to do something, and from what she could see, no one was doing a damned thing. She laid her phone on the countertop. “Stay on the line. If Patrick comes back on the phone, tell him I’m going for help. I can’t just sit here and watch my parents die on live television!”

Before Claire had a chance to reconsider, she flew out the door. She didn’t know what she would do, but she had to at least try. She raced around to the parking lot, where the fired ex-employee had her parents. Several police cars surrounded the area.

“Ma’am, get down!” a police officer called out to her. “This is a hostage situation. Stay where you are!”

Claire dropped down on the wet, icy pavement. “Do not move!” came another voice.

She wasn’t going anywhere, and now she realized the folly of her impulsiveness. She had to try, she told herself as she lay on the cold concrete. She couldn’t live with herself if something were to happen to her parents.

“Claire.” A loud whisper came from an area beneath the steps that led to the back door of Snow Zone. She turned to find Patrick huddled under the stairs. “What the frig are you doing out here? I told you to stay inside! Damn it, Claire, you don’t always have to be the one in control of things. You’re going to get us both killed lying out here in the middle of the parking lot where that nut job can see you!”

Tears fell from her eyes. He was right. She had always wanted to be in control. Of everything. Why, she didn’t know, and now it didn’t matter. She should’ve listened to her brother.

“Try to slide over toward me, okay?”

She nodded, then carefully moved her body like an inchworm until she was just a few feet away from the back entrance. Jeb Norris was still standing in the middle of the main hall parking area, and from what she could hear, her parents were still on the ground, unharmed at this point.

A loud voice, which sounded like it was coming through a megaphone, filled the air. The negotiator, Claire guessed.

“Jeb, if you give up now, you can walk away from this. You haven’t injured anyone yet. There is no need for you to keep the other hostages inside. Let them go, and you and I will talk.”

Claire breathed a massive sigh of relief; and then she prayed, something she hadn’t done in a very long time. She tried to catch Patrick’s eye. She did and saw that he’d heard what she had. No one was injured at this point. Thank God. But who knew what this drugged-out crazy kid would do before all was said and done.

“I want to talk to that son of a bitch Patrick O’Brien. This is between me and him! This is all his fault!”

“Listen, son,” the negotiator said. “This isn’t anyone’s fault. From what I’ve been told, you’ve got a bad cocaine habit. I can get you some help, but in order for me to help you, you have to help me out. You can start helping both of us by letting all the hostages go.”

Claire strained to hear, but nothing was being said.

“How do I know you won’t try to shoot me?” Jeb Norris said. Claire knew this was a good sign. He was beginning to ask for help in his own sick way.

“I am a man of my word. If I tell you I will see that you get help for your addiction, then that’s exactly what I will do. But you have to help me, too, remember? You can help us both right this very minute, Jeb. All you have to do is let all those innocent people leave. They’ve done nothing to you, right?”

Claire and Patrick waited for him to respond.

“I don’t trust you,” Jeb called out.

“Jeb, listen to me. I am all you have right now. I’m the man that’s keeping you alive. As soon as I give up on you, they will, too. We have professionally trained sharpshooters. They can take you out right now if I give the order, but I’m not going to do that because I know you’ve got problems, and I know that you need help. Take it while I can still offer it, Jeb. I’m just doing my job, you understand? I don’t want to see anyone hurt. I don’t think you do, either. It’s Christmas. You know that there are kids inside that dining hall right now, don’t you? Kids who still believe in Santa Claus? Kids whose lives you’ll be responsible for ruining if you don’t let them go home to their mothers and fathers. Where’s your mother, Jeb? Think she’s watching this on TV right now? I bet she is, and I bet she’s crying her heart out. What do you think?”

“My mom ain’t got nothing to do with this! You leave her out of this, you hear me?” Jeb’s voice was trembling now.

“I’m running out of patience, Jeb. Seriously. My boss tells me I’ve got ten minutes, after that . . . well, remember what I said about those sharpshooters. They can take you out in a split second. And I think some of them want to. They’ve got kids, and they don’t like to see little children frightened or threatened in any way. You think about that, Jeb? Okay, I want you to think about it.”

A loud crashing noise, then the sound of crying as Jeb Norris dropped to his knees. Before he had a chance to make the slightest move, he was handcuffed and lifted off the ground, then escorted to a cruiser.

The next hour was pure pandemonium. Claire rushed to her parents’ side. They were unharmed, thank God. One by one, the police officers escorted the remaining hostages out of the dining hall. When Claire saw Quinn, she ran toward him and threw herself in his arms. “I was so afraid for you,” she said, as they walked arm in arm to the temporary tents the police had set up. There were twenty-three people who’d almost lost their lives. It was going to be a very long day for all of them.