Lucy’s hands. She leaned in and kissed him. A warm swell of love lapped over him. “Do you have a headache?” she asked again.
He moved his head side to side gingerly and didn’t reply.
The front of his head, his temples, began thudding, hard. Truth was, he had a terrible headache. Like his brain was sliding back and forth in his skull. The pain seemed to be centered just behind his eye sockets. The thudding kept time with his heartbeat. If he could only grab the front of his head and detach it at the temples, he felt as if he could remove the headache and hold it, blood-slick and throbbing, in his hands.
“Seriously,” she said.
“Yeah, some,” he said.
Everything was bright and blazing with fierce color. He saw a few men in red-and-black parkas marked with white first-aid crosses, obviously members of the Aspen Mountain Ski Patrol. A few others he didn’t recognize mulling around. Galvin standing behind them, his bright yellow down jacket unzipped.
Next to him, in a black parka with the zipper partway down, stood his driver, Alejandro. He was an odd-looking man, Alejandro. His head was unusually wide, but his face was narrow, the features clustered close together. A pale line in his upper lip looked like the trace of an old scar. His necklace of green and black beads had a pendant dangling from it that looked, from this distance at least, like the Virgin Mary.
But it was the black parka that chimed something in his memory.
Danny noticed his ski boots had been removed. He was in stocking feet.
One of the men in the red-and-black parkas leaned forward. “Your pupils look normal, and your vital signs seem to be fine,” said the raspy-voiced one who seemed to be in charge. “You passed all the cognitive tests. Except the one about the president.
“Fact is, you got knocked out. Might have been for only a few seconds, but you were disoriented for a long time afterward, and that’s something you have to take seriously.”
Danny nodded, carefully. It hurt to move his head.
“You’re a very lucky guy. Your friend here happened to see you and called us immediately.” He glanced at Galvin. “If it wasn’t for him, you might have frozen to death out there.”
“Thank Alejandro, not me,” Galvin said. “He’s the one who found you.”
Danny turned to look at Galvin, then at Alejandro, and then back to Galvin. He remembered a black parka and a black ski mask. Galvin said something to his driver, and Alejandro left the ski patrol hut.
Something about the black parka stirred a vague, fragmentary recollection.
The ski patrol guy said, “We’re going to give you a ride over to Aspen Valley. You might have a skull fracture or internal bleeding, so you need to have a CAT scan at the very least.”
“I think I’m okay. I hate hospitals.”
“You don’t want to fool around with head injuries.”
“I understand. But I think I’ll be okay. Thank you guys so much for everything.” He looked at Lucy. “Where’s Abby?”
“The girls are skiing with Celina,” Lucy said. “Let me help.” She reached for his elbow.
“Really,” Danny said, “I’m fine.”
Galvin said, “Alejandro’s getting the car. I’m going to take him home. We’ll see you guys in front of the lodge.” He gave a quick wave, a flip of his hand, and went outside.
“I’m sorry,” Lucy said to the patrollers.
Even though he didn’t need any support, he took Lucy’s hand. She helped him put on his sneakers-she, or someone, must have retrieved them from the rental area.
“You don’t look so good,” Lucy said when they were outside. “Do you hurt all over, honey?”
He smiled. “Just my head.”
“I know you hate hospitals, but you should go. If you start babbling nonsense, I’m taking you in. No debate.”
“You sure?”
“About what?”
“Sure you’ll be able to tell if I’m babbling nonsense? Worse than usual, I mean.”
“You have a point. Any idea how you got knocked out?”
“I really have no idea, Luce. I can’t remember much of what happened.”
But he did remember, more than he wanted to say. He hadn’t fallen. He’d been knocked out.
By the man in the black parka and the black ski mask.
Who must have been Galvin’s driver, Alejandro.
He needed to sit down. The throbbing behind his eyeballs started up again. If he kept his head steady as he walked, he found it hurt less. It didn’t feel as if his brain was thumping back and forth.
“Are you feeling sleepy?”
“Not sleepy. Just… I don’t know, crappy.”
The black Suburban was idling at the curb in front of the Little Nell. Tom Galvin got out of the front seat and opened the middle passenger door. Lucy came around between Danny and the Suburban to help him in. “I’m fine, really,” he assured her.
When he was seated, Lucy began climbing in, but Galvin stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Would you mind staying with the girls?”
“I think I should stay with Danny.”
“Celina needs to meet a friend for coffee for some fund-raiser they’re cochairing. She’s not crazy about leaving the girls out there on the slopes alone. Don’t worry about our boy. I’ll get him straight home. He’s in good hands.”
She gave Danny a kiss on the lips, one that lingered a few seconds longer than usual. Her eyes, meeting his, radiated concern. “All right,” she said, and reluctantly waved good-bye.
When they’d pulled away from the curb, Danny waited for a long moment. The only sound was the purr of the Suburban’s 320 horsepower and V8 engine.
Then he said: “We both know what happened.”
Galvin didn’t reply. Danny wondered if Galvin had heard. Maybe not.
He was about to say it again when Galvin turned around and looked right into Danny’s eyes. “I think it’s time we talk.”
48
Galvin gave his driver a sidelong glance. Alejandro nodded, barely perceptibly.
Danny’s forehead thrummed as fast and as violently as his heart.
“You’re right,” he said. “It’s time.”
Another long silence. The Suburban pulled into a gas station parking lot, bypassed the pumps, and executed a U-turn. No one said anything. After a moment, Danny noticed the terrain changing, unfamiliar. “Aren’t we heading back to the house?”
“Not just yet,” Galvin said. “There’s some Motrin back there in the seat compartment. You should probably drink some of that water there. You’ll feel better.”
“I’ll be fine when I get some rest.”
“First we’re going for a drive,” Galvin said.
Danny felt his stomach flip over. He started to protest, then sat back in his seat.
He heard the whine of the Suburban’s automatic transmission as it shifted gears.
They were heading northwest on Highway 82, Danny noticed. Galvin didn’t speak. Neither of them did.
Finally, when the silence had gone on long enough, Danny said, “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere we can talk in private.”
“You want to talk, let’s talk. Pull over.”
A long pause. “There’s a place I want to show you.”
“Some other time.”
He wondered whether Galvin was planning a talk. Or something else. He tried to suppress a surge of panic. He thought about texting Slocum and Yeager to let them know what had happened, how he’d been knocked out…
Which reminded him about the camera Slocum had given him. He was pretty sure he hadn’t taken any pictures of Galvin meeting with whoever he was meeting with. He hadn’t gotten the chance before someone-was it in fact Alejandro the driver?-struck him, knocked him out. Which meant the camera was still in his pocket. He patted the pockets of his down parka, then rummaged through them but found nothing. The camera wasn’t in the zippered pocket. Or had he been holding it when he’d been knocked out? Probably so.
Making it likely that someone-Alejandro?-had taken it.