Page 8 of Saving Mr. Bell

Rudolf had called it a kidnap, but it wasn’t. Not really. He’d come round to the idea once he’d sobered up and had some proper sleep. I started the tour in the room we were in, most of it dominated by a large, comfortable sofa, and a small dining table with two chairs. It doubled as a kitchen, the stove and everything else you’d expect to find in one situated toward one end. “Living room and kitchen,” I said.

I led him into the next room, flicking a hand at the king-size bed. “Bedroom.”

“One of two, I presume?” Rudolf asked.

I winced. “No, there’s only one.”

Rudolf said nothing. He didn’t need to, his body language saying it for him. The bathroom took little explaining, given there was nothing but a bath with a built-in shower, a toilet, and a washbasin. I led him into the last room, the one which had sealed the deal. The owners of the cabin had set it up as a games room, complete with a billiards table. That wasn’t what had twisted my arm, though. It was the piano at the front of theroom. I ran a hand along its black polished lid, the instrument quite the beauty. “This is why I chose this place. I thought you might appreciate having one here, that it was worth the sacrifice of an extra bedroom.”

Rudolf stared at the piano for long enough that I wondered whether a person could fall asleep with their eyes open. Finally, he turned away from it. Without touching it. Without running his fingers over the keys and checking whether anyone had tuned it. It was, because that’s one of the first things I’d done when I’d gotten here. “You should have saved yourself the bother and gone for the extra bedroom.”

He went back into the living room and I followed, Rudolf looking completely out of place in his club gear as he stood in the middle of the room. I didn’t know what reaction I’d expected from him when he saw the piano. Joy? A smile? A look of fondness, perhaps. But it hadn’t been a complete detachment. For all the attention he’d shown it, it may as well have been a chest of drawers.

Was I reading too much into it? He was tired and from the way he’d reacted earlier, no doubt still recovering from a huge dump of adrenaline into his system. Could I have gone about things in a better way? Revealed my identity earlier so he wouldn’t have panicked as much as he had? Probably. Getting away from Salzburg and from all the people around despite the late hour had been the priority, though, if I didn’t want to get caught. Anyway, there was no changing how events had unfolded now; there was only dealing with the aftermath.

“You should go to bed,” I urged. “Get some sleep.”

“And where will you sleep?” Rudolf’s voice was tight, and he avoided looking at me when he asked, his discomfort broadcasting the direction of his thoughts.

“On the sofa. It’s plenty big enough.” He gave a jerky nod and turned toward the bedroom. “Use anything that’s in thebathroom. Toiletries, towels, shaving stuff, I mean. What’s mine is yours.”

“Too kind.” His tone didn’t say he thought I was kind. His tone said fuck you. I was going to have some serious explaining to do once he’d slept.

After collecting bedding—luckily there was plenty going begging—I lay on the sofa under a blanket and listened to him potter around the bathroom. He took a shower, which I guess wasn’t a surprise when he’d been clubbing. He’d been in the club too long not to have danced. Had he had sex with anyone? And why did that matter? It was none of my business. He’d left on his own, so if he had hooked up with anyone, it had stayed within the confines of the club. Was Rudolf the type of person who got down on his knees for someone in a bathroom stall? It was more likely, given his celebrity status, that someone had gotten down on their knees for him.Why was I still thinking about this?

I turned on my side and closed my eyes as Rudolf came out of the bathroom, listening to his footsteps as he went into the bedroom. There was the softsnickof the door closing and then silence. Exhaustion had me succumbing to sleep not long after.

Memories of what I’d done came slowly the next morning, or as I discovered when I checked my watch, nearly lunchtime. Not surprising when it had been nearly five before I’d gotten my head down. Had I done the right thing? I guessed only time would tell. Rudolf hadn’t exactly greeted me with open arms the previous night.

The cabin was silent. Silent enough that I struggled free from the mound of blankets, shot to my feet, and made sure the cabin door had remained locked. It was. Padding barefoot across tothe bedroom door, I pressed my ear to it until I heard soft snores coming from the other side.

Not wanting to miss Rudolf getting up, I showered, shaved, and dressed quickly. I needn’t have bothered rushing—the bedroom door still firmly closed when I came out of the bathroom. I tamped down on the temptation to open it an inch and check on him. It was doubtful he’d thank me for it.

When I looked out of the window with coffee mug in hand, it came as something of a shock. The snow had continued throughout the night, reaching a depth where the tires of the car were barely visible.

It had stopped snowing for the time being, the sun almost blinding as it reflected off the untouched powder, but the damage had already been done. It was hard to think of it as damage, though, when it was so beautiful. Especially at this time of year. What more could you want in early December than a picture-perfect postcard world right outside your door? I might not have planned for it, but I’d appreciate the hell out of it now it was here. I only hoped Rudolf would feel the same. How could nature at its finest not stir him? He’d have to be dead inside not to look upon it with awe.

I made a start on breakfast while I waited for Rudolf to join the world of the living. Despite not having anticipated being snowed in, I’d gotten enough supplies to last until Christmas. Probably longer if you didn’t mind making your own bread and using powdered milk instead of fresh. There were plenty of logs to keep the wood burner going, and an axe and larger logs in the storage shed adjoining the cabin for when they ran out. I was looking forward to getting in touch with my caveman side and wielding an axe.

The decision on whether to wake Rudolf once breakfast was ready was made for me when the bedroom door opened just as I was dividing the bacon, eggs, sausage, tomato, and mushroomsbetween two plates. I’d made toast as well, the unsliced loaf lending itself to slices as thick as doorstops. Well, that and my lack of skill at wielding a bread knife, which didn’t bode well for the axe. “Perfect timing,” I said cheerily as Rudolf came to stand on the opposite side of the breakfast bar. He’d dressed, his club gear not looking any more at home in our rustic surroundings than it had the previous night.

His hair was all over the place, but then it was most of the time, artful messiness, his trademark look. He looked pale, the hangover I’d suspected might hit him presumably in full flow. I held the plate out. “You’ll feel better once you’ve eaten this.”

He didn’t take it, passing me by to crouch and look through the kitchen cupboards instead. Shrugging, I carried both plates over to the small dining table, before returning to pour him a coffee. I placed it next to his plate, along with a glass of water and a couple of painkillers. If he really couldn’t eat, that would do the job just as well. By the time I sat, he was still going through the cupboards. “Come and sit down.” No response. “Maybe if you tell me what you’re looking for, I can help.”

“Alcohol. There must be some.”

Ah! So Rudolf was more of a hair of the dog that bit him type person, was he? “I brought a couple of bottles of wine with me, but I thought better of it and got rid of them.”

Rudolf straightened to glare at me. “Why?”

I waved a hand, the gesture meant to encompass his frenzied search. “So this didn’t happen.”

“Got rid of them where?”

I stared at him. He was obviously hoping for an answer that would reveal a retrievable place, like I’d thrown the intact bottles in the bin. “I poured it down the sink and then threw the bottles away. There’s not a single drop in the cabin.”

Rudolf thought hard for a moment. “I’ll ask the neighbors.”

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