Mountain Challenge (Mont Blanc Rescue #9)

Chapter 22

22

Ry

T here were two types of men in the Chamonix gendarmerie : those who wanted to make it to the top floor as quickly as possible, and from there on to one of the regional commands, or maybe directly to Paris, and those who never wanted to set foot on the top floor if they could help it. Ry was firmly in the second camp.

He had, of course, been to the top floor before. He knew where the colonel’s office was, and he knew Beau and Damien, the two commanders of the PGHM team, unavoidably spent time up here in meetings with the colonel and other top brass. But he’d never been invited to the large glass-walled meeting room before.

Ry knocked and walked inside. He looked around the large rectangular conference table, glad he had taken off his sling beforehand. Weakness was the last thing you wanted to project in a room full of sharks, and that’s exactly what this felt like.

He recognized the lawyer from that first encounter over a month earlier, looking slick in a navy blue suit and bright red tie. And the two investigators from Lyon, a man and a woman, their expressions as stony-faced as when they’d questioned him weeks earlier. The woman ignored him, her focus on the pad of paper in front of her, but the man nodded a careful greeting.

There was an empty seat between Beau and Colonel Pelegrin, which Ry assumed was for him. He sat down, sparing a glance at Mont Blanc outside the window. Tall, white, and majestic, it was the reason he’d first come to the Alps. But it wasn’t the reason he’d stayed. That had less to do with the mountain, and more to do with the man sitting next to him and the other men downstairs. His colleagues. His friends. It would kill Ry to leave them.

It might not come to that.

Only one seat remained empty. Ry knew who that one was for. The hiker. The plaintiff. Ry shook his head. That wasn’t the right word for it. This wasn’t a formal court case, even if it felt like one. Even if it held the power to destroy his life.

He forced himself to unclench his hands on his lap. Whatever happened, happened. He repeated the small mantra in his mind several times. He knew the decision had already been made. It reminded him of surfing. This felt like the moment just before catching a tall wave, when you felt like you were going to fall off a cliff, but he’d actually been riding this wave for years. The next few minutes would simply determine how long the ride would last.

“Ry. How’s your shoulder?” the colonel asked gruffly. It didn’t surprise Ry the colonel knew about his surgery. The colonel seemed to know everything.

“Fine, thank you, Colonel.”

Ry purposefully didn’t look at Beau. Ry had been told the investigation had concluded, but he didn’t know who knew what —Beau might not know anything, but if he did, Ry didn’t want to put him in an uncomfortable position. He could wait a few more minutes to learn his fate.

The door opened again, and the hiker came in. The first thing that struck Ry was how young the man was—much younger than he’d assumed back on the mountain. Today his face was clean-shaven. He wore a green sweater with smart black jeans, but it was the white neck brace that caught Ry’s attention. Fuck . There was no doubt in Ry’s mind that he’d done the right thing—he’d done what he’d done to stop the man from falling off the cliff, and in doing so he’d saved his life—but he hated to think his actions had resulted in a serious injury.

Ry stared into his pupils—not dilated. He wasn’t on anything today, or at least nothing like what he’d been on that day. Up close, the man’s eyes were the coldest blue imaginable—almost reptilian.

Introductions were made around the table, and the recording device on the table was turned on. Every meeting Ry had had with the investigators had been recorded. Ry wondered vaguely what they did with all those recordings. Somewhere in Paris, there might be a digital wasteland with his name on it.

It took him a moment to realize the conversation had moved on without him. Ry struggled to catch up. The investigators worked well together—this wasn’t the first time they’d done this. The woman went first, checking points off her notebook as she reconstructed what had happened on the mountain. Eventually, her partner came in to fill in the gaps.

Ry’s hopes soared as she got to the part where the hiker was pushed off the cliff by his friend. Ry knew the hiker had always denied that part, but if that had made it into the report, then there was a chance?—

“No!” The hiker stood up, his eyes shining with indignation. “That’s not how it happened! This man tried to kill me. He needs to pay.”

The woman stared up at him calmly. “Sit down, sir, or I will have to ask you to leave.”

The lawyer whispered quickly in the man’s ear, and eventually he sat back down. But his cold eyes stayed on Ry the whole time.

The woman’s colleague picked up where she left off, describing every interview they’d done, the blood test that showed the two men were under the influence of a potent combination of amphetamines and alcohol?—

Blood test? What blood test?

It appeared Beau had formally requested a blood sample be taken from the men at the hospital, and kept for future testing once they had the right to request such testing. Ry spared a quick look at Beau, grateful for his boss’s sang froid . Beau nodded at him, then jerked his chin back towards the other side of the table, where the woman had taken over the conversation again. “After reviewing all the evidence, we can conclude without a shadow of a doubt that there was no evidence of police violence, and that in fact Liutenant Harrison should be congratulated on his actions of that day.”

Some more formal words were said, but Ry barely heard them. No evidence of police violence. Of course he’d known they’d find no evidence of something that hadn’t happened, but to have it confirmed, was … it was everything.

Eventually, after a few more minutes of back and forth, the lawyer and his client were invited to leave. As soon as they did, the tension in the room went down a notch. “It’s over?” Ry asked, looking around him. “Really over?”

The woman looked up at him, her lips curling up in a small smile. The first one he’d ever seen. She looked happy at the outcome. “It’s over.”

“Good,” Beau said stoically. Ry stifled a laugh. Good? This wasn’t good . This was everything .

“Can he appeal?” Colonel Pelegrin asked in that quiet manner of his that was impossible to ignore.

“He can, but his lawyer will be the first to tell him he has no case. This case was … the most black and white we’ve seen in a while.” She pursed her lips for a moment, as if wondering how much more she should or could say. “I would not worry about that happening,” she finally added.

She looked experienced, and Ry wanted nothing more than to trust her. “Thank you.”

“We only did our job, Lieutenant Harrison,” her partner said.

“I know. I’m grateful anyway.”

“If we’re done here,” the colonel said gruffly, “let’s all get back to work. We’ve wasted enough time on this.” As the colonel stood up, everybody else followed, as if on a spring. Because you didn’t remain sitting when the colonel stood.

“Thank you,” Ry said to Beau once they were finally alone. “If it hadn’t been for the blood test you ordered …“

“It would have worked out anyway, Ry.”

Ry nodded. “I’m surprised they gave their consent to get their blood tested.”

“They didn’t,” Beau said. “That’s precisely what helped us. If Getty hadn’t filed a complaint, we wouldn’t have been able to test the blood specimen. But once he did, they no longer had a choice, unless they wanted to be guilty of an offence.”

“I’m still grateful.” He let out a breath. “I admit I was worried.”

“I know you were, and I’m sorry I couldn’t set your mind at ease before.” Beau sighed, looking tired. “Now go home and get some rest, Ry. I want you back in the office as soon as the doctor clears you.”

“I can work, Commandant .”

“Not until you’re cleared.”

“Val will clear me,” Ry said, cheekily.

Beau laughed. “Go talk to her, then.”

Ry shouldered his bag. He’d do that, but first, there was somebody else he needed to call. “Isla? Where are you?”

“Ry.” She sounded a bit breathless. “I’m right outside the gendarmerie.”

Isla

Ry bounded out the door.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Is everything okay?”

“I didn’t want to leave you alone,” she said. Just in case . But she didn’t need to finish that thought. Even if she hadn’t been able to see the way his bright green eyes shone with happiness, she would have known, just from the way he walked—the way his shoulders looked like a heavy load had lifted from them—that everything had gone well.

His arms opened up, and Isla flew into his embrace. He kissed her forehead, her cheek, her nose, and she raised her face to help him find her lips. Their smiles met for an instant, then her lips sought entrance into his mouth, which he gladly gave, giving as good as he got. He tasted of mint and relief.

“It’s over. I’ve been cleared,” Ry said, squeezing her. “The investigators found there was no merit to Getty’s claims, and he’s been encouraged by his lawyer not to appeal.”

“Good.” She squeezed him back, careful not to press too tightly against his shoulder. “I knew you would be.” He cocked his head sideways. Well, she hadn’t known —that’s why she’d waited for him, in case things went south. But she’d certainly hoped for this outcome.

“Let me take you out to lunch,” she said, smiling.

His arm went around the back of her waist. “It’s only eleven.”

“An early lunch, then.”

If she hadn’t been looking at Ry, she might have missed the way his smile suddenly froze, his eyes tightening at the corners. She followed his gaze to see two people emerge from the gendarmerie . One was a slim, middle-aged man, dressed in a navy blue suit. He was saying something to a younger, angry-looking man wearing a neck brace.

Then the younger man looked up in their direction. She knew who he was. Hatred shone bright in his eyes, making her shiver. And she hated the fact that she hated him back. She’d never imagined she might hate someone she’d never even met, but to think of the way he’d treated Ry, the pain he’d caused him … all in a quest for money … it repulsed her.

She held herself very still until the two men disappeared into a black car.

“Hey. It’s okay,” Ry said, squeezing her hand. “It’s over.”

Isla’s mouth opened in shock. He was trying to comfort her ? After everything that had happened?

Ry smiled. “I can tell you’re angry.”

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” she said, because she felt someone had to say it. She’d seen how much it’d hurt him, over the last weeks, and he’d had to deal with it on top of his injury. “I’m sorry because?—“

“Thank you for being upset on my behalf. But it’s over,” he repeated. “And it doesn’t change anything. I will not let it change anything. Most people aren’t like this. I refuse to be scared every time I go out there.” He squeezed her tight. “But thank you for having my back.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she would always have his back, but something made her hold the words back. Because the word always was a big one, and one they’d never said to each other, and her last always hadn’t ended well in the past.

“So … lunch?” she said, smiling brightly. Coward .

His smile was blinding. “I’m not that hungry, but I’m always in the mood for dessert.” He took her hand in his much larger one and pulled her forward, towards her car. “Come on, let’s go celebrate.”