Kate Donovan - Exit Strategy

At the inn, there was less opportunity to practice, since it was only three floors high, with no elevator. Also, Kristie had made a point of requesting a room with a balcony, explaining to the front desk that Jennifer Aguilar had severe claustrophobia and needed to know she could get out into the open on a moment’s notice. Miranda had continued to make such comments upon her arrival, just in case Kell decided to check up on her.

If he did call the inn, they would probably tell him that the American tourist had spent the afternoon and early evening going for a run, then camping out on the balcony of her room, where she could be seen performing a martial arts routine in slow motion, or simply sipping her seltzer water and gazing at the spectacular view of the Rhone Valley afforded by the inn’s location on the side of a slope at the upper edge of the village.

She hoped she cut an intriguing figure, with her form-flattering wardrobe, elaborate makeup and carefully styled hair, all of which seemed designed to capture the attention of men, and did so successfully. But she ignored their advances in favor of spending time alone, and outdoors. Why?

Because she was a call girl on holiday who was already in love with one of her customers, so she had no reason to be looking for male companionship on this particular trip. And Kell would understand that her tiny room-the best the inn had to offer, and lovely in its own way-felt uncomfortably confining to her.

Or at least she hoped he would. Her plan was to spend at least a few hours with him, but her dream was that he’d invite her to stay at his fortress rather than the cramped quarters at the inn. His home was reportedly huge, built from the remnants of an old monastery about an hour outside the village at the top of an unpaved road. The innkeeper explained that the village residents had no reason to ever use the road, and the tourists-mostly hikers-who came to the area quickly discovered that it was a mistake to approach Kell’s gated sanctuary, wisely opting instead to take the cable cars at the other end of the valley that carried them to more hospitable glacial trails.

Awakening with confidence her first full day in Switzerland, Miranda still felt a pang of doubt when the car she hired reached the outskirts of Kell’s property. There she was confronted by the infamous gate, manned by two armed guards, one of whom walked toward the vehicle with his rifle aimed directly at the driver.

“Don’t worry,” she murmured in hesitant French as she opened her door and prepared to charm the guard. “This will just take a moment, and then you can go back to the village. I will call you to come back for me when I’m finished here.”

The driver frowned. “You are certain you wish to visit Monsieur Kell? He is a strange man.”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you.” She slipped out of the front seat, slung her oversized purse on her shoulder, and ambled over to the guard, announcing cheerfully, “I’m here to see Jonathan Kell. I would have called for an appointment, but no one in the village had a number I could use. Can you tell him I’m here?”

The armed man’s eyes narrowed. “Does he know you?”

“My boyfriend saved his life once, ten years ago. That practically makes us family, don’t you think?” She flashed a flirtatious smile. “Just tell him I’m here, sugar.”

He shook his head. “I’ll tell him, but if you don’t have an appointment, he’s not going to see you. Even when I tell him how-well, how harmless you seem.”

“Harmless?” She laughed. “I’ve been called many things, but never that. I must be losing my touch.”

The guard laughed, too. “Come on. Let’s see if you can charm the boss.”

Miranda trailed after him, pleased by his reaction. Apparently Kristie had been correct when she predicted that Kell’s guards, while well-trained, were undoubtedly bored senseless and eager for entertainment, particularly in the form of a sexy female. Unlike their counterparts, such as soldiers guarding military facilities, or private security for financial institutions, Kell’s men knew they were simply defending a delusional man against imaginary dangers. Twelve guards to do the work of one or two, with nothing to do all day but discuss their crazy employer and hope for something-anything-to divert them.

Punching in a code on a panel next to the main gate, the guard escorted her through a smaller entrance for foot traffic, where a second guard stood outside a booth, his rifle also poised and ready, his eyebrow arched. “We aren’t expecting anyone.”

“She’s special, Joe,” the first guard assured him. “Her boyfriend saved Kell’s life.”

“Yeah?” Joe shrugged his shoulders, then explained the gesture to Miranda, saying, “Kell made us send his own cousin away last month, so don’t get your hopes up. What’s your name?”

“Jennifer Aguilar.”

He scribbled it down. “And the boyfriend who saved Kell? What’s his name?”

“Ray Ortega.”

Joe nodded, then stepped into the booth, reminding the first guard, “Keep an eye on her, Mike. Or the boss will have a fit.”

In less than a minute, Joe called out for them to join him.

Miranda followed Mike into the booth, but when he started to close the door behind her, she made a point of asking that he leave it open. She could see from the glance he exchanged with Joe that he was offended by the implication that she didn’t trust them, but he complied with her request.

Joe motioned to an intercom affixed to the wall as he announced, “She’s here, boss. Go ahead.”

“Miss Aguilar?”

“Hi, Mr. Kell. Thanks for agreeing to see me.”

“I haven’t agreed to anything yet. What’s the purpose of this visit? Did Ortega send you?”

“No. He doesn’t know I’m here. It’s a surprise,” she explained, adding, “It’s a long story, but I think you’ll like it. After all, Ray saved your life, right? I’m sure you’d love to do something special for him. Wouldn’t you?”

“You’re telling me Ortega didn’t send you? And you have no way of proving to me that you’re his girlfriend, much less that I should allow you into my home?”

“But-”

“Go back to the village, Miss Aguilar. Don’t bother me again unless Ortega calls ahead to vouch for you. And even then…” His tone grew wistful. “I just don’t see any point to this.”

“I can prove to you I’m Ray’s girlfriend. And I can explain exactly why you need to see me. But I’d rather not give intimate details this way, over a stupid box. Can’t we talk face-to-face? Just for five minutes?”

“No. Joe, are you still there?”

“I’m here, boss.”

“Disconnect this call using the standard protocol. Understood?”

“Sure, boss. Right away.” Joe punched a button on the intercom, and Miranda noted that a green light on the instrument panel went out, replaced by a yellow one.

But not red, which she found curious. Yellow would seem to denote a standby mode. Was that what Kell meant by “standard protocol”? Was it possible he was still listening, either from curiosity or more likely, paranoia?

In any case, she had nothing to lose, so she sank down onto the only chair in the booth and covered her face with her hands. “I must have said something to offend him. Ray will be so angry with me! He and Mr. Kell went through so much together, they’re almost like brothers. This was supposed to be a wonderful adventure, and now look what I’ve done.”

“Our boss doesn’t meet with strangers. Period. It’s nothing personal, miss. You didn’t say anything wrong. I promise.”

“I should have told him about my claustrophobia. But it’s so embarrassing talking about it over a silly intercom. I just assumed he felt so close to Ray that he’d do this for him, no questions asked. I was so stupid, and now I’ve come all this way for nothing.”