Rachel turned back toward Frankel, her eyes filling with concern.

It must really look bad, thought Frankel. It certainly feels really bad.

“Enough of that!” roared Everett above him.

He waved the rifle at his brother. “Get her away from him!” he ordered.

Rachel moved down closer to the fallen detective.

Frankel nodded at her. “Do what he says, Rachel.”

She shook her head, refusing to stand up.

“You have to, sweetheart,” Frankel begged her. “Please.”

Suddenly, Grant was behind her. Frankel could see the Scotland Yard man had no choice but to help his daughter to her feet because Everett had the rifle trained on both of them.

With pain coursing through him, Frankel felt more helpless than ever as Everett grabbed hold of Rachel with one hand while poking Grant in the back with the rifle.

“Let’s go.” Everett motioned behind him. “You know where.”

As he backed them away, Frankel felt his chest seize up.

And then he saw Rachel’s lips part.

“I love you,” she silently mouthed.

Frankel did everything in his power to not wince as he softly answered her.

“I love you too.”

The next thing Frankel knew, they had disappeared around a corner.

Seconds later, everything went completely black.

IX

The snow was an endless field of white, untouched by a human soul.

If there had been a crater in sight, or if the full moon itself hadn’t been shining down from a star-filled sky, one might think they were on the lunar surface.

All of this was lost on Rachel as she was dragged out of the ice cavern by the lunatic she’d until recently thought of as her uncle—because all she could hear was herself screaming.

Her raking sobs and string of scathing epithets ranging from murderer to madman were the only sounds within hundreds of miles.

Until Everett threw her down in the snow and yelled. “Stop! Enough!”

Her uncle pointed the hunting rifle directly at her and slid his finger onto the trigger guard. Rachel felt herself beginning to tremble. And saw that Everett’s finger was doing so as well.

“Everett—no! You don’t want to do this!”

Everett swiveled to see that her father had emerged from the cavern.

The rifle didn’t budge an inch.

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t.”

“Because you don’t want her.” Her father raised his hands in the air. “It’s me.”

He took one step closer and immediately stopped when Everett turned the gun in his direction.

“I’ve always been the one you wanted.”

“It took you long enough to figure that out,” scoffed Everett. “The great Scotland Yard detective—outwitted at every turn.”

“You can do what you want to me. But this has nothing to do with her.”

“You still don’t get it, do you, Austin? Aren’t you wondering why I went to New York in the first place?”

“I don’t really care,” her father answered.