The Hunt Club

And Juhle knew that he had lost.

"I am his mother," she went on. "I would never let any harm come to him. I will protect him. I am his mother," she repeated.

Juhle, sickened and depleted, pulled himself up to his feet. "As a matter of fact," he said, "you're not even that."

35

Hunt's base camp was up a side road that began a few hundred feet north of the Manions' driveway and wound up the western slope facing the château. It was a place Mickey knew of-he'd come up here a few times with female companions to make out-where a turnout that coincided with a break in the topography gave them an unimpeded look and more importantly walkie-talkie access across to the valley, the promontory, and to the California oaks, which grew amid the boulders at the very crest of the ridge beyond the Manions' roof.

On a line, they were less than a half mile from the main house.

Hunt's Cooper and Mickey's Camaro, both excessively visible on the Silverado Trail, were parked on the shoulder of the road. Jason, back from the Meadowood, had parked his purple PT Cruiser well up the street, so that the random Napa County cop, should one appear, wouldn't become suspicious.

Amy and Jason, Hunt and Mickey stood in a tight group in a patch of shade. Juhle had been in the house across the way for about a half hour, and the small talk in the clearing had gotten smaller and smaller until finally it had disappeared altogether. Suddenly, Mickey, who hadn't taken his eyes off the château the whole time, said, "Happening."

Hunt lifted his binoculars and was watching as Juhle appeared at the front door on his way out. His body language alone told the story, affirmed when nobody accompanied him out.

Juhle got to his car door and opened it, Hunt lowered the binoculars, got his telephone off his belt, and handed it to Wu.

"You ready?"

She'd been game all along. Though her task was simple and straightforward enough, she and Wyatt had discussed it in some detail, and now she took the phone without any hesitation. Still, she did have a question. "You're sure you don't want to wait until Devin gets up here?"

"I'm sure," Hunt said. "Whatever else happened with Dev and her, you can bet he delivered the message, so we hit her now when it's still in her craw, before she can digest it. And I'm damn sure Dev doesn't want to see this next part. He won't even want to hear about it."

Mickey said, "The dude's in this far, Wyatt, he's following your lead, he ought to get over it."

Hunt shrugged. "Yeah, well, it's his job. Everything he's done up to now, it's in his little manual of what he's allowed to do. As we all know, he's got these due-process issues, which fortunately I don't have to worry about."

"Yeah, but for the record, Amy and I are officers of the court, too. In fact, last time I looked I was a DA." Jason, all nerves now, wasn't complaining, just stating a fact. "So Wyatt's idea that we don't talk about it, that might be a good thing to remember when this is over."

Amy put a calming hand on his arm. "Understood. I think everybody gets that, Jason. Let's get this done. Wyatt, what's the number?"

Hunt gave it to her, and she punched it in, the three men standing around her in various attitudes of tension. Hunt, arms crossed, the muscles in his jaw working. Mickey shifting from foot to foot. Jason, hands in his pockets, high color in his face, although his dark eyes were hooded, almost brooding; he chewed at the inside of his lower lip. Nobody said a word.

Amy affected being cool, but her eyes darted from the trees to the sky to the men around her while she waited for the first ring and gave away the state of her nerves. A breeze freshened and blew some of her hair across her face, and almost angrily, she brushed it away. Suddenly, with an audible sigh of relief, she nodded. "Ringing," she whispered.

Then she nodded. Someone had picked up.

"May I please speak to Carol Manion?" Wu's eyes were closed in concentration. "Yes, I understand that," she said, "but this is an emergency. I need to speak with her personally." Another pause. "That won't be possible. Would you please ask? It's actually really urgent. Yes." And finally, the coup. "Tell her it's Staci Rosalier."

Wu's knuckles were white on the cell phone. She opened her eyes, caught Hunt's steely gaze, and nodded again imperceptibly. Carol was coming to the phone.

When it came, the voice was far from the refined contralto Wu had noted at the auction preview. Everything that had happened to Carol Manion today, first with Amy and then evidently with Juhle, had as Hunt predicted finally managed to erode the surface veneer of control and sophistication. The voice rode a wave of dread now that broke and churned in her throat. "Who is this?"

Hunt had told Amy to get right to it, not to give her a chance to hang up. Wu spoke in measured, even tones. "It's Staci Rosalier, Carol. Staci Keilly. Todd's mother."

"Who is this? Is this the police again? This is pure harassment."

"It's not the police, Carol. You know it's not the police."

"Who is it, then? What do you want?"

"I want my son back. But it's too late for that. I'll settle for Andrea Parisi."

"I'm hanging up."

"I'll leave you alone if you lead me to Andrea."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do, Carol. Don't make me threaten you. I don't want to take Todd and force you to trade, but I will if I have to."

Now through the line, Carol came across in a clear panic. Wu heard her yelling back through the house. "Todd! Todd! Where are you? Come in here. I need to see you. Right now!" She ended in a shriek.

Other noises sounded in the background. Male. Concerned.

Now, back into the phone, no mistaking it, Carol's fear bled out and over into her voice. "He's here. He's fine."

"I know that. I'd never hurt my own son. But I would take him from you."

"Tell me who you are!"

"I've told you that. Where is Andrea?"

"I said I don't know! I don't know."

"All right," Wu said. "I've warned you. Look out your back windows. I'll call back in exactly five minutes."

In the dining room off the kitchen at the château, Carol stood holding the phone, breathing hard, her face gone pale. Ward had come in with the earlier screams, followed by Todd along with the security guard who'd admitted Juhle earlier, and Todd's na

Looking at the phone as though surprised that she still held it, she put it down into its receiver and turned back to the rest of them. "Oh, Todd," she said, moving toward him, arms extended. "My baby. Are you all right? Tell me you're all right."

"I'm fine, Mom. I'm good. Are you okay?"

She was down at his level, hugging him tightly. "I'm good," she said, but her voice broke. Her shoulders heaved and then heaved again. She tried to stifle a desperate sob.

"Carol." Ward was down next to her. "What's this about? Talk to me."

But instead she gathered herself, stood, and faced the guard. "Has anyone been here to the house today besides Inspector Juhle?"

"No, ma'am."

"You're sure?" Her voice snapped at him. "Don't look at Todd! I want your answer. Was anybody here?"

Stu

Ward reached out his hand. "Carol…"

She held up a warning finger to her husband, came back at the guard. "When we drove up, he was outside. Juhle. Had he been out there alone for long?"