The Heart of the Jungle, стр. 60

"Shh, shh, Chris," George said. "I know you didn't. We need to get you back here and out of the reach of that madman. Then we'll figure out what to do."

"George, I don't know what's going on."

"I think I do. I'll explain when I get you back here safely."

Chris sniffled. "How are you going to do that?" He could hear George typing on the other end of the line.

"There's a municipal airport in Weed. I'll charter a flight to Snohomish and meet you there."

"Snohomish? But why?"

"Chris, I want you to stay where you're at. Do you have your mobile phone?"

"No," Chris said. "Brunner took it away and smashed it."

"Where are you calling me from?"

"It's... it's a payphone outside of a service station."

"Read me the number in case we get disconnected."

Chris gave him the number. A heady sense of relief washed over him. George's clinical calmness was soothing. Chris had been sure he'd know what to do. For the first time since Brunner took him from the Bellagio, it seemed as if things might actually be okay. For the first time, he dared to hope that he and Brianna would make it out of this alive.

"Chris, I want you to stay on the line with me. If you see anyone, let me know right away."

"I need to call Jason," Chris said. "I have to let him know I'm okay."

"I'll call him as soon as you're on your way," George promised.

"Okay," Chris agreed.

He listened as the other man went to work. George made several telephone calls in rapid succession. First, he located a suitable charter and arranged for a flight with the promise of an outrageous sum of money. Once the flight was secured, he called a taxi company and gave instructions for Chris to be picked up and transported to the airport.

When he came back on the line, he instructed, "Stay with me until the taxi arrives."

"George, why Snohomish? What is this all about? You said you thought you might know."

"It's your father, Christian. He's left you a diamond called the Heart of the Jungle. Brunner learned about it from Michael. Remember those letters you gave me to hold onto for you? Your father apparently wrote about the diamond in those. Michael must have purloined them from my safe and told Brunner all about it."

"Dad left me a diamond?"

"It's in a safety deposit box at Snohomish Trust. The box can only be opened by you or your duly appointed legal representative. Your father gave very strict instructions. As soon as I learned about it, I went right over there, thinking I might retrieve it in case we needed to bargain with Brunner, but they will not release it without your signed authorization. Damn small-town banks and their gentlemen's agreements."

"I didn't know anything about it, George. If I had, I would have given it to him without a second thought. I don't care how valuable it is."

"I know, Chris," George said. "I just... I can't believe David never told me about it."

"You know how Dad shunned you in the end, all because of me. If he was so ashamed of me, so disappointed, I don't understand why he would leave me the thing in the first place."

"Chris, I sent your father's letters to the FBI. I read them. I was desperately worried, and... David was a very good friend whom I loved dearly. He was deeply ashamed, but not of you. He was ashamed of how he'd treated you. He writes of it in the letters. It was his way of saying he was sorry and how much he loved you. I guess that fight I had with him knocked some sense back into him and Marie. They planned to make amends... until the accident took them from us."

Chris was stunned, his heart breaking anew over the loss of his parents. Discovering that they had planned to reach out to him, to atone for casting him out, that despite their strong convictions, they still loved him, tore open that old wound, and a new freshet of tears spilled out.

"I... I can't believe it," he stammered.

"Nor could I." George fell silent as Chris mulled over this new revelation. "Chris, is there anything you need?"

"I left my wallet in Vegas," Chris complained. "I don't have any money or identification. And I need shoes," he added sheepishly. "I didn't stop to grab them when I ran off. My feet are killing me."

"You'll need ID to recover the diamond," George said. There was a hint of irritation in his voice.

"My passport is in a desk drawer at my house. You have a key."

"Good. I'll go over there before I head to Snohomish," George promised. "I'll also grab a pair of shoes to send with Charlie. He can give everything to you when he picks you up in Snohomish."

Just then, a taxi rolled into the parking lot. "The taxi is here."

George's sigh of relief on the other end of the line was audible.

"Go," he said. "We'll talk about this further when you're safely home. I'll have my security people meet you at Harvey Field."

"George," Chris said softly before disconnecting, "thank you."

"You're like a son to me, Christian," he said tenderly. "I'd do anything to get you back here." There was a pause. "I'll see you soon."

Chris hung up the phone and rushed to the taxi. Everything was going to be fine now. It really, truly was.