Page 50 of Mountain Struggle

“Did you get the license plate number?” he grunted.

Over Tess’s shoulder, Drake rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I wrote it down for you before diving out of the way,” Tess snapped.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I was just wondering if you noticed anything about the car.”

“It was a black car, one of those large Porsches that people seem to be so fond of here.”

A Porsche Cayenne.

Anywhere else, that might be an easy car to find. Unfortunately, in Chamonix they were a dime a dozen—both rented and owned.

“I saw one number, a seven. And it was a French plate, if that helps.”

“It all helps,” Damien said encouragingly. “Did anybody else notice anything about the car?” he asked, looking at Drake.

“Madame Riquier was walking her dogs—she saw the entire thing, but unfortunately she wasn’t wearing her glasses. She agrees the vehicle was dark.”

“Black. It was black,” Tess said firmly. “The driver was large—I didn’t get a good look at him, just the impression of a large shape behind the wheel.”

Damien reached out to remove a twig from her blond hair. He realized his hand was shaking. Tess could have died—again.

He’d been too lax. He’d wanted to believe the kidnapping incident was an isolated incident, that Tess and Jamie had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Damien’s hands curled into fists. Someone wanted to hurt his family.

Tess seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“I’m scared, Damien. Normally I would have been walking back with Jamie. It was random luck that he wanted to stay at camp a bit longer with his friends. I told him I’d grab a coffee and pick him up a little bit later.” Her upper lip trembled. “I just don’t understand why somebody would want to hurt us—”

“Let me take you home, Tess. We’ll pick Jamie up along the way.”

#

Tess

Tess shivered as she recalled the moment she’d realized the car was coming straight towards her.

She’d been distracted, immersed in her plotting, thinking about the moment her main character finally discovered her father wasn’t dead after all. It was going to be a big turning point in the novel, but Tess still had to figure out how to thread it together in a way that wasn’t obvious to the reader.

She’d been so busy with that problem, she hadn’t seen the car until it was almost too late. She thanked her lucky stars and quick reflexes, as well as the lamp—she’d jumped out of the way like an extra in an action film, except in this case there’d been no soft pad to soften her landing. Just rough, hard tarmac.

She winced as she attempted to move her right arm. Under the bandage, the skin of her arm and shoulder was scraped raw. It felt swollen and tender, a constant reminder of how lucky she’d been to hit the road. A four thousand pound car would have done a lot more damage.

The medic had instructed her to reapply antibiotic ointment that evening, reminded her to check in at the hospital the next day just to be safe, and suggested she take it easy.

Easier said than done.

Tess leaned back in the car seat, struggling unsuccessfully to find a comfortable position.

“Dial John,” Damien said. Moments later, Jamie’s grandfather’s voice came on the car’s speaker.

“Tess and I are in the car, Dad. We’ll be at your place in fifteen minutes.”

“Is Tess okay?” John asked, his voice cautious.

“She’s okay. It could have been a lot worse. Is Jamie okay?”

“He’s playing with Gael. Why don’t you take Tess home and take care of her? I’ll bring him by in time for dinner.”