Page 55 of Mountain Summons

Amaury’s expression didn’t change, but he expelled a small sigh. “Thank you for coming today, Tristan, and for letting us meet the lovely Lena. It meant a lot to me and to your mother.”

“Happy birthday,” Tristan replied. His fingers tightened around Lena’s hand, and together they left.

22

Lena

"Lena? Don’t come home.”

Lena sat up from where she’d been slouching against the car window, half-dozing, when her phone had started ringing. “Papa? What’s going on?”

“Somebody broke into the house last night.”

“What? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I was working late and slept in the office. A neighbor called me this morning when he noticed the door was open.”

“And Beaujoulais?” Lena’s voice was full of fear.

“Beaujoulais is fine,” the colonel said. “I knew I’d be late from work, so I dropped him off at Alexandre’s house yesterday. They’ll keep him for a few days.”

“Beaujoulais is my father’s dog,” Lena explained quietly to Tristan. She rubbed her eyes. “How far away are we?”

“About fifteen minutes away,” Tristan said.

“We’re almost there,Papa. I’ll see you?—”

“Is that Lieutenant Devallé? Put me on speakerphone, Lena.”

Tristan didn’t bother to mention he could hear both sides of the conversation already.

“The gendarmes are here,” the colonel said. “I don’t want Lena anywhere near the house.”

“Until they leave?” Lena asked. But Tristan knew better. That’s not what the colonel meant.

“She can stay with me, sir,” he said.

“Good.”

“What? No.Papa. I should be with you.” She turned to look at him. “Take me home, Tristan.”

“I’ll call you later,” her father said. “And, Tristan? Thank you.”

“You’re driving me home,” Lena said, placing the phone back on her lap.

“No.”

Lena sputtered, her face turning red. “No?”

“Your father’s right,” Tristan said, striving to keep his tone calm. “Until we know what’s going on, the safest thing is for you to stay away.”

“I said, take me home,” Lena repeated. “Take me home, or stop the car right here. I can walk.”

Tristan turned to look at her for an instant before bringing his attention back to the road in front of him. “How many break-ins do you think there are in Chamonix every year?”

“Eh … I don’t know.”

“Not many,” he said. “Add in the fact that your father is Colonel Pelegrin, and I don’t think it takes?—“

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