The Heart of the Jungle, стр. 55
Frank gave him a reassuring wink. "Well, at least give your damn parents a call. They're worried sick."
Jason's heart warmed as he realized that, despite everything, he was loved. He wondered how much worse off he would be if his situation had been similar to Chris's. His parents were dead, and for many years, Chris had been estranged from his father---
His father.
"His father," he cried as a realization struck him---one that he had not considered until just this moment. "His father."
Frank was stunned by the sudden outburst, and his brows drew together. "Now what are you on about?"
"Chris," Jason said. "On the plane... Chris told me his parents were killed in a car accident. Mechanical failure or something." He rose from the chair, pacing, remembering. He was babbling as he followed his train of thought, the words running together, pouring out of him in staccato succession. "He was estranged from his father. Said he had some letters he'd never read tucked away somewhere---from his father." Frank too was rising out of his seat now, caught up in Jason's excitement. "When he told me about the accident, something struck me as odd, but I let it go. Those letters may have been the missing piece all along."
"You think there's something about the diamond in them?"
"Frank, what if Michael Blake found them? What if he's the one who told Brunner and started this whole thing in motion?"
Frank moved toward the door. "Hot damn. Pay dirt. Let's get the team looking into the elder James. See what turns up."
WHEN Brunner merged onto Interstate 5 from Highway 89---the winding two-lane road they had traveled across the state of California---
Chris breathed a sigh of relief. After what felt like a never-ending trek through raw wilderness, the wide expanse of interstate was a welcome sign of civilization.
After a short northward jaunt, they arrived in the city of Weed, California. In the moonlight, off to the south, Chris could see the snow-capped dome of Mount Shasta rising into the blackened firmament. For a moment, he could almost imagine that he was looking at Mount Rainier, so similar was the distinctive shield of the Pacific Rim volcano to the mountain that was a defining landmark of his Washington home. A lump formed in his throat, and tears threatened. He hadn't realized how much he missed it, and a rising dread that he might never see it again pulled painfully at his heart.
He involuntarily clutched Brianna more tightly, and she stirred in his arms, roused from slumber.
Brunner drove slowly through the small town and finally found a roadside motel on the northern outskirts that looked satisfactory to him.
He pulled into the parking lot, parked the car, and turned to face Chris.
"You're coming with me. I'm not letting you out of my sight."
Chris thought about protesting, but instead, he nodded in acquiescence. Now was not his moment. Soon, though. Soon.
"Don't think for a second I will hesitate to use my weapon if you make any move to escape. Act naturally and everything will be fine."
Chris closed his eyes, swallowed hard, and took a deep breath. "I already told you. I'm not going to try anything."
Brunner nodded curtly, climbed out of the car, and opened the door for him. Chris stepped out and drew a deep breath of the fragrant mountain air. It was cool and clean, invigorating. After long hours of confinement, this was a tiny pleasure and a happy relief. Without a word, he followed Brunner into the motel.
He stood patiently, silently, his eyes upon Brianna as he cradled and rocked her while Brunner transacted with the desk clerk. Fixing his attention on his sleeping daughter helped to keep him centered and calm.
Her placid expression, the tiny dimples as her lips curled into a smile at some dreamed happiness, were both a balm and a motive. Since she had come into his life, she had been his purpose. As she slept on, completely oblivious to the gathering storm, his resolve crystallized. Whatever else happened, whatever the cost to himself, she, at least, would be spared the horrible fate Brunner had planned.
Dangling the key before him, Brunner snapped him to attention and pointed toward the door. Mutely, Chris followed the man to the parking lot. "That was very good," Brunner praised him. "Keep cooperating just like this and you may yet walk away with your life."
Chris said nothing, biting back a smart retort. It was important for Brunner not to question his control. The more he felt in command, the more comfortable he would become. There would be a moment, Chris was sure, when Brunner would be vulnerable, and if the man's guard were down, seizing it would be easier.
The room was garish, decorated in shades of brown, amber, and green. It was, however, clean, a fact for which Chris was grateful.
Brunner allowed him and Brianna to use the bathroom and then said, "Put the girl on the bed."
As Brunner secured the door to their room, Chris placed Brianna on the bed and pulled the covers up around her. Her eyes were heavy, and it didn't take long for her to fall back to sleep. He helped her along by smoothing her hair and whispering soothing words to her. Once she was out, he stood and flexed his arms. They were stiffened and sore from long hours of immobility.
Brunner had been standing near the bureau watching him attend to his daughter. When Chris turned his attention away from her, he noticed Brunner removing his belt. He eyed Chris and said, "Come here."
Chris held back, unsure. He met Brunner's gaze with suspicion.
Brunner saw his hesitation and laughed. "Don't flatter yourself. You're not my type." He held forth the belt as if in explanation. "I'm not taking any chances. You say you're not going to try anything, and this is