Two Crosses (29 page)

The Alpilles dotted the horizon, while directly below them lay dozens of fields outlined by the tall cypress trees. “If I weren’t so cold, I’d love to stay here all day,” Gabriella commented. “As it is, let’s see these ruins and get back to warmth.”

“Gabriella! I’m surprised at you. Where’s your sense of adventure?” He grabbed her shoulders and rubbed his hands vigorously up and down the sleeves of her coat for a few seconds. Then he took her hand and led her along the plateau. It was fifty feet wide, with either side walled in with the castle ruins. They stepped over a low wall of stones into the facade of what had been a large square room. Ducking their heads, they made their way through a doorway and down a short flight of stone steps into the skeleton of another room. Gabriella grabbed on to the stones as a gust of wind pushed her backward.

“The mistral must be nearly a hundred kilometers an hour,” David calculated, but his eyes shone with pleasure, as if he would challenge the wind and conquer it.

Gabriella shivered beside him. “How can you be enjoying this? We’re nuts to be out here. There’s not a single soul up here besides us.”

“Patience, Gabby. We’ll just go to the end and climb up to the dungeon ruins. I don’t want you to miss the view.”

They pressed on, up narrow steps and down others, following the jagged outline of the fallen castle. At the farthest end of the ruins, David pointed to a steep set of steps that led up to what had been the second story of the dungeon. A wrought-iron guardrail had been placed beside the steps for the tourists. Cautiously Gabriella mounted the steps, with David close behind. She clung to the rail for support against the force of the wind and flattened herself against the wall. They came around the corner, where they could see the outer wall of the dungeon built into the mountain.

“Look below!” David shouted through the screaming wind. “This is where Raymond did his deed.”

Gabriella peered down, barely daring to look. But indeed the wall ended abruptly, and all that was left was a deep abyss.

“Horrible!” she yelled back. “Let’s leave.”

Jean-Claude watched the progress of the two young people like a hawk contemplating its prey. He stayed forty feet behind them, hidden within the ruins. As they rounded the corner of the dungeon, slipping out of sight, he gleefully scaled to the top of the cliff and perched ten feet above them. He waited for Gabriella to peer over the ledge and laughed. “You’re perhaps with me in this little game, David Hoffmann,
non
?” The position was perfect. Eyes blazing, he rubbed his hands together in a frenzy, as if he himself were the ghost of Raymond de Turenne come back to haunt the castle.

He would hardly have to push the rock. The wind would do the work. He kicked his foot against a loose stone the size of a soccer ball and moved closer to the couple, the large stone now in his hands.

Gabriella stood to the right of David, clutching the rail as she peered into the valley. She let go momentarily. Jean-Claude stepped out of hiding and with a grunt threw the stone forcefully at her feet. It hit her hard and bounced off into the ravine. Jean-Claude waited to hear the woman’s chilling scream above the mistral’s fury. Then he raced to the top of the dungeon wall and hid in its shelter, laughing till tears ran down his face.

Gabriella had just turned to retrace her steps when she felt a large rock hit her hard in the shin. She screamed as she stumbled. David lurched toward her outstretched hand, but she had fallen through the railing, past his grasp.

“David!” she shrieked, grabbing the jagged stones of a narrow ledge leading to the precipice. Dust blew into her eyes as she hung awkwardly on the ledge. Heart pounding, she managed to pull her chest onto the rock. Her feet dangled in the air. One shoe came off and fell into nothingness, swept by the wind into Raymond’s territory.

It was no use to cry out. Who else would hear? David was bending down from above, reaching toward her. She thought of the strength in his hands. Yet he had nothing to grab on to himself. Before them the whole valley stretched like an opened mouth, ready to swallow them whole. David was on his stomach, reaching, leaning across the pale-yellow boulder. He wedged one foot in between a split in the rock. It was all there was to hold him in place.

Gabriella watched his hand. The wind blew as if it were in a battle with David for her life. It pushed against her with the brute power it had gained running across the plain. She felt her hands sweating in the freezing air, slipping from the jagged rock. Her eyes met David’s, and for that moment she read his thoughts louder than the howling wind.
Hold on!

With a heave he pulled her up, against the craggy, pointed rocks that ripped deep into her coat and legs. She fell onto the narrow ledge and lay breathless beside him. The roaring wind stung her eyes, bringing tears and drying them in the same effort. She was planted on the ledge in fear, not daring to move. David’s arms gripped her tightly, pulling her against him, so that his back sheltered her from the wind.

“Can you get up, Gabby?”

She felt his hot breath against the back of her neck as he spoke in gasps.

“I’ll hold you. Only a few feet and you’ll have the railing. Can you grab it now?”

He loosened his grasp on her and she slid through his arms, forcing her body over the short distance to grab hold of the railing above her. Her head swam. She felt dizzy with fear.

David had raised himself from the ledge, gently pushing her up to safety. As she sat, clinging to the railing, he pulled himself back up beside her. They inched their way around the corner of the castle and rested their backs against the wall. The mistral buffeted them in its fury, but they did not move. Nor did they see a lone figure running across the plateau, swept along by the wind like a dust ball in a ghost town.

The way back was much easier as the wind pushed them along, back across the plateau. David held Gabriella in his arms. She didn’t protest. He felt her body shiver against him, felt the low sobs that racked her fragile frame. Her coat was torn and her stockings full of runs. Blood held them against her legs. He looked at her stockinged left foot and felt a shudder rip through his soul. Somewhere at the bottom of the ravine, where the bones of less-fortunate victims once rested, lay a woman’s low-heeled tan pump.

It didn’t make sense. He had glimpsed the rock that hit her before it fell over the mountain. Even the bitter wind could not dislodge such a rock. It had come from nowhere. It was as if something, someone had pushed it. But the place was desolate except for them.

He let himself out the iron gate that led back into the village. Two hundred yards down the cobblestone road he set Gabriella down on a curb.

“Here, we’re at the restaurant. Do you want to go in?”

She looked up at him with her chapped, tear-stained face. Her hair was a mass of red tangles.

“We can go on to the car if you’d rather. I only thought you might wish a place to wash up.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, let’s go in.”

They entered the small restaurant, which smelled of thick soups and strong cheeses. Its empty tables were covered with bright-blue Provençal print, and warmth hung in the air. A young, stocky woman with short brown hair greeted them with a smile. Then she noticed Gabriella’s disarray. “
Mademoiselle
is hurt?” she asked.

“An accident, yes,” David whispered. “Could you show her to the
toilettes, s’il vous plaît
? And would you have a towel or cloth she could use to wash up?”

“
Bien sûr
,” the woman replied, taking Gabriella by the arm. “You may come into my apartment. It’s here, just behind the restaurant.”

David watched Gabriella limp along beside the woman and disappear behind a bright-red curtain. He ran his hands through his hair. He removed the knapsack from his back, but his shoulders still sagged under some unseen weight. He thought back to Aix and the young man he had knocked out as he followed Gabby. David hadn’t found any identification on him. Just a camera.

But today he had been sure no one was around. He had been so careful. For ten minutes his eyes stared blankly at the menu as his mind wandered.

Gabriella came back through the curtains. Her face was washed and her hair brushed. She wore slippers on her feet and carried her coat and shoe in her arms. “
Merci. Merci, mille fois
,” she said, smiling at the young woman who accompanied her to the table.

“Shall I bring you two bowls of la soupe au pistou? It is delicious—potatoes and vegetables and cheese.”

David and Gabriella nodded simultaneously, and something in that small gesture made them both laugh. As the waitress left their table, they looked at each other.

David took her hands. “Gabby, I’m so sorry. Forgive me, will you? I never dreamed … It was foolish of me to take you up there in this wind.”

“I must admit, we had quite an adventure. Enough to last me awhile!” She thought for a moment, then said, “Enough to cover last week’s nightmares over with the fear of today.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“One lost shoe, a pair of ruined hose, and numerous scrapes and bruises. Nothing very exciting, really, to show for what I’ve been through.”

“The lost shoe is the proof,” he said, smiling, but immediately his face clouded. “Gabby, it’s time I explained a few things to you. Do you want to know? You’re not afraid?”

“I
have
to know, David. Surely whatever this secret business of yours is can’t be more dangerous than the little accident I just had.”

“Yes, you’re right. But I can’t tell you here.” He covered her hand with his.

The young woman brought them two earthen bowls of thick, steaming soup, and they ate in silence.

David and Gabriella rode back toward Montpellier with the wind whistling outside the car. David kept glancing in the rearview mirror. No one was following them.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Gabby, I’m not quite sure how to start. I … I’m afraid that somehow what happened today wasn’t an accident.”

“I knew you were thinking that.”

“I was sure you suspected the same. Every time we’ve gone somewhere, there’s been trouble. In Aigues-Mortes you sprained your ankle, in Aix there was the man following you, and now …”

“But, David! That’s crazy. Aigues-Mortes was just an accident. I was clumsy, and then Jean-Claude helped me—” She looked up at David, sudden recognition in her eyes. “Jean-Claude! He knew I was coming here today. I didn’t see what harm it would do … He knew!”