There was a moment after the waiter had taken their order. Yvetta had gone to the toilet and Stephan had seen friends on the other side of the room and had excused himself for a quick visit. Allison put her hand on Kaylee’s arm, leaned in close and said, very softly, “We’re here to help you.”

Instead of the thrilling excitement and relief that Allison had been looking forward to, Kaylee became an instant frostcicle.

Allison tried, “Elizabeth sent us.”

The moment turned worse, not better. Kaylee’s expression was immobile but her eyes radiated panic.

Soft, warm, and caring, Allison said, “We’re going to get you…and Leo…away.”

“You can’t,” Kaylee said.

“Isn’t that you want?”

No answer.

“What you need?”

Nothing.

“What Leo needs?”

A slight nod, almost a yes.

“Good.”

“That man, that you’re with,” Kaylee asked, “is he the one I saw in New York?”

“Yes.”

“I wasn’t sure. I only saw him for a few moments. And I didn’t have my contacts in.”

Allison was relieved. The goddess had a flaw. Yvetta returned. Then Stephan. Yvetta had a burger which she devoured with both gusto and deliberation. Stephan had a regional dish that involved potatoes and cheese. Kaylee and Allison had salads. Kaylee just picked at hers, too frightened to eat.

After lunch, it got worse. Instead of maneuvering to sit with Allison when they rode the lifts, Kaylee placed herself with Yvetta or Stephan.

—

While that was happening, I was trying to keep an eye on Grigor. He seemed distracted. He stopped to answer his phone. I had to ski on by. I was fairly sure Pavel, his oversized security guy, noticed me and made a check mark on his mental slate. I had to stay farther away.

About an hour later, Whomp, whomp, whomp…that chopper sound…Thicka, thicka, thicka…

Since I was keeping my distance from God and his guard dog anyway, I decided to ski down toward the helipad. Look around, scout it out, in case the impossible opportunity arrived and we did make a dash for it. A blue run named Madlochalm ran along above the landing place. It had cliffs on one side, the one I was on, steep hills on the other, and if we were going out that way, we’d sure as hell want good weather. The chopper was an AW109 again. Maybe the same one, maybe not. It looked like the same four men coming out. This time, only one car came to meet them. Two men got out of it. They were too far for me to make out their faces, but by their ski jackets and general look, posture and coloring and such, I was sure of who they were, Grigor and Pavel.