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passed. As he released each branch, the load dropped on the ground with a soft plump. When we met in the dappled light, he regarded me with a questioning but stern expression, so I thought I’d better get in the first word.

“Why, Dr. Hauser, what a surprise,” I said, trying to coax out a smile, though I still wasn’t sure if he’d found our tracks. “We run into each other in the oddest places, don’t we? I thought you were in Nevada just now.”

“I told you I would come if I possibly could do so,” he said in a tone of mild irritation. “I’ve driven all night to get here.”

“So I guess you decided to loosen up from your trip by going for a spin on skis out here in the middle of nowhere?” I commented dryly.

“Ariel, please don’t play games with me. I went to your room as soon as I arrived at the Lodge—the sun wasn’t even up yet. When I learned you weren’t there, I was horribly worried about what might have become of you. But before sending up a general alarm, I went to the car park and saw that your car was missing too. It snowed last night: the only fresh tracks from the car park headed in this direction, so I came and found your car in the woods. I followed your ski tracks here. Now it’s your turn to explain what you thought you were doing skiing all by yourself, miles away from the Lodge, before dawn?”

Whew—so he thought I was skiing by myself, which meant he hadn’t reached our tracks. That rescued me from the next step, something I’d already been braced for: lying without compunction. But it still didn’t get me out of the woods.

“I was hoping a little exercise would help me work off some of that cognac your sister and I slugged down in my room last night,” I told him. And it was true.

“Bettina?” he said in amazement—so I knew I’d pushed the right button. “Bettina is staying here at the Lodge?”

“We tied one on,” I said, but when Wolfgang looked puzzled I translated, “We got drunk together, and I pumped her for information about you. Now I understand why you told me my uncle Lafcadio was just an acquaintance of yours, not a friend. But in our lengthy conversation on the topic of my family, you just might have mentioned that your sister has been living with my uncle these past ten years.”

“I’m sorry,” said Wolfgang, shaking his head as if he were just waking up—as he might well feel, if he’d truly been driving all night. He looked at me with cloudy deep blue eyes. “I haven’t seen Bettina in rather a long time. I suppose she explained that to you, too?”

“Yes, but I’ll bet I’d like your explanation better. I mean, why would two people like you and Bamb—like your sister—become strangers to one another, just because of the overdramatized histrionics of somebody like Uncle Laf?”

“Actually, I still see my sister from time to time,” said Wolfgang, not really answering my question. “But I am surprised to learn that Lafcadio brought her here from Vienna like this. He must not have guessed that I might be here, too.”

“He’ll know now,” I told him. “Let’s all have breakfast together and see what kind of fireworks start popping.”

Wolfgang stuck his poles in the snow and put his hands on my shoulders. “You’re very brave to plan such a meal. Have I said that I missed you, and that Nevada is a truly awful place?”

“I thought Germans always loved all those neon lights,” I said.

“Germans?” said Wolfgang, taking his hands from my shoulders. “Who told you—oh, Bettina. It appears you did get her drunk.”

I smiled back and shrugged. “My favorite interrogation technique: I learned it at the breast of my mother,” I admitted. “By the way, since it now seems that you and I are practically related, through this attachment of my uncle and your sister, I thought I might get more personal and ask things I want to know about you—like for instance, what does the ‘K’ stand for?”

Wolfgang was still smiling, but raised one brow in curiosity. “It stands for my middle name: Kaspar. Why do you ask?”

“Like Casper, the friendly ghost?” I said with a laugh.

“Like Balthazar, Melchior, and Kaspar—you know, those three wise Magi who brought gifts to the infant Jesus.” Then Wolfgang added: “Who suggested that you ask me that question?”

Boy, I might be terrific at interrogating the incredibly soused, but it seemed I was the world’s worst, myself, at handling unexpected questions. I tried a punt.

“I guess you don’t know I have a photographic memory,” I said—not really answering his question. “I saw your name logged into that sign-in book at the site, including all that Herr Professor Doktor business, and the fact that you’re stationed at Krems, Austria. Where on earth is Krems, anyway?” I rattled on blithely, hoping I could wriggle from beneath Wolfgang’s penetrating and rather suspicious gaze.

“Actually, it’s where you and I will be heading together on Tuesday,” Wolfgang said. “So you’ll be able to see for yourself.”

I tried not to do a double-take, since my head was starting to throb with the effect of what liquor I hadn’t managed to ski off.

“You mean this Tuesday?” I said, feeling slightly hysterical. This couldn’t be happening again—not now. Not after I’d just found Sam, and had no way to find him again until he found me. “Like, the day after tomorrow we’re heading to Austria?”

Wolfgang nodded, and when he spoke it was with a certain urgency.

“Pastor Dart phoned me in Nevada yesterday. He’d been trying to find us both—you and me—and he was relieved to learn I knew where you could be reached,” he told me. “Our plane to Vienna will leave New York late Monday night—tomorrow. In order to catch that flight, we must fly all day; that’s why I drove last night from Nevada to get here,

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