Mammoth Lakes, California
STEFAN WHIPPED ONTO the Interstate 5 Highway heading north out of Los Angeles. He glanced over at Penelope, who sat huddled in the passenger seat, her head still pressed into her hands.
“I have a place five hours from here,” Stefan said. “It’s quiet and secluded, and I promise the paparazzi can’t find you there.”
Still clutching her face, Penelope only whimpered.
“Shall I take that as a yes?” Stefan rubbed her arm.
She nodded.
Stefan threaded the SUV through heavy traffic with an expert eye. He’d made a snap decision, but he knew a person could hold up only so long under intense pressure. Even some of his buddies, highly trained Navy SEALs, had reached eventual breaking points. As soon as he saw the warning signs, he’d learned to diffuse the situation.
Touching her arm again to comfort her, he said, “It’s going to be okay, just relax.”
He knew Penelope well enough to know the strength of her spirit. The fact that she didn’t even care where he was taking her, and hadn’t even asked, was another sign that she’d reached her threshold.
She’d shared her childhood history with him, and it wasn’t as happy as the version she shared with the media. Beneath her artistically glamorous exterior, Penelope was a private person. While she was growing up, her mother had battled depression and anorexia. Her father worked long hours, so she was often left alone to care for her mother, even as a young child. Penelope had told him that after she’d left home, she’d learned more about her mother’s condition and sought help for her.
That evening in New York, he’d listened to Penelope’s speech, and he knew it came from a deeply personal place. Penelope was one of the most genuine-hearted people he’d ever known. It pained him to see others intent on hurting her—Monica included. He glanced across at her and saw that she had dozed off. That’s for the best, he thought. She was working hard to recreate her life.
Traffic lightened when he turned onto the 395 toward Mammoth Lakes, California. This was a part of the state he loved. He slowed to look for the Tule elk that inhabited this area of the vast Owens Valley. Peering to the east, he saw antlers bobbing across a meadow where the herd was grazing.
These elk, they’d made a comeback, too, he thought.
From a population of half a million, the elk population had declined until they were thought extinct in the 1800s. A breeding pair was found, and a small herd had been relocated to this area just a few decades ago.
He pulled to the side of the road to watch them. It was a simple pleasure and ritual he had, one of many that formed his memories of this region.
Penelope stirred. “Where are we?”
“About halfway there.” He brushed her hair from her forehead.
“Hmm.” She turned away and went back to sleep.
Before taking off again, he tapped a quick message to Josh. Find out who Kristo is. Was the guy an extreme romantic or was he dangerous? Where’s Monica? Did she know anything? And finally, Any news from New York? Phone service was spotty in the Sierras. If the weather was bad, he might be off the grid for a few days, but Josh could make headway in his absence.
Stefan wheeled back onto the road and continued driving. An early snowfall had already dusted the peaks of the mountains that ran on either side of the Owens River Valley. The Sierra Nevada mountain range ran to the west, and the White Mountains rose to the east.
He’d been coming to this part of California since he was a little boy. He slowed again as he passed Lake Crowley, where he’d often gone trout fishing with his father. It was still too early in the season for the lake to be frozen, but it wouldn’t be long.
Penelope stirred again when he slowed to the speed limit as they passed through the town of Bishop before beginning the long incline that would carry them into Mammoth Lakes, a village nestled in the Sierra Nevada Mountains at nearly eight thousand feet above sea level. The nearby ski mountain rose another three thousand feet, and it was one of his favorite places to ski in California.
The road to his cabin had been cleared of snow, and it was still early in the season, but that could change overnight. When the cabin came into view, his mood instantly improved. He rolled down his window to let the crisp air flow onto his face. The scent of pine trees and fresh snowfall filled the air. He pulled the SUV to a stop in front of a log cabin and cut the engine.
Stefan sat still, appreciating the silence. Overhead, birds squawked and squirrels scurried through the trees. He loved being surrounded by nature. Reaching out, he ran his hand along Penelope’s arm. “Hey, sleepy head, we’re here.”
“Mmm.” She stretched in the seat. Sitting up, she glanced outside and her eyes widened. “Mountains, snow. Where are we?”
“At my parents’ cabin in Mammoth Lakes. Well, mine now.” He cranked the brake. Not a day went by that he didn’t miss his parents, both of whom died far too early.
“What?” She folded her arms around her torso. “It’s freezing up here. Are you crazy? I haven’t got a thing to wear.”
“My mom had some clothes here that will probably fit you. She was tall, too. Whatever else you need, we can buy. Come on.”
She gazed at him, and at last, a smile grew on her face. “Thanks for getting me out of L.A.”
“That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
She nodded and then stepped from the SUV into the soft fallen snow that surrounded the cabin. Tilting her head up, she held her arms out and rotated slowly to avoid slipping in her heels, her eyes on the sky. “It’s incredible up here. I’m free, I’m free.” She started laughing, and then sank to her knees against a snowdrift, tearing up again as she had in the office building before they’d left Beverly Hills.
Stefan raced to her side. “Hey, it’s okay. Let’s get inside so you can lose those high heels.” She was displaying all the classic signs of prolonged stress. He pulled her to her feet. “Have you been sleeping okay?”
“Hardly at all since New York.”
“You’ll have a chance to catch up here.”
They climbed the steps, and Stefan opened the door. Like the exterior, natural logs comprised the interior of the cabin. A fireplace anchored one side of the rustic living area, and the kitchen spread out on the other. It was a modest place, but he liked it. There were two bedrooms, each one with a fireplace.
“You’ll find some warmer clothes in the closet. Help yourself.” He took an old teapot from the stove and filled it with water. Striking a match, he lit the burner and adjusted the flame.
A few minutes later, Penelope emerged wearing jeans and a red plaid flannel shirt with a funny look on her face. “I feel like a lumberjack.”
Pouring hot water into two cups of cocoa, he looked up and grinned. A gorgeous lumberjack, he thought to himself.
She held out a foot. “I found some old boots.”
“Glad they fit. Looks like you wear the same size Mom did.” He scooted a mug of hot cocoa toward her. “This should warm you.”
Penelope slid onto a wooden stool and picked up the mug. “Did your wife—”
“Ex. Never came here. Too remote for her taste.” He pulled a cranberry-red wool sweater his mother had knitted for him over his shirt and pushed up the sleeves. “I’ll build a fire shortly. Have to bring in some wood.”
“So what do you do up here?”
“Are you kidding?” Stefan laughed. “You’ve been living in Hollywood too long.” He sipped his cocoa, studying her over the rim of his mug. She seemed to relax a little, but he could see dark smudges beneath her fatigue-rimmed eyes that he hadn’t noticed before. She’d probably been covering the dark circles with makeup.
“I’m serious,” she said. “Do you ski?”
“Sure. Downhill, cross country, snowboard. In the summer, there’s great fishing, hiking, and mountain biking.”
“Swimming?”
“In the lakes. Pretty cold, though. Snow melts from the mountains.” He pushed the drapes open, revealing snowy mountain views. When he turned around, she was staring into the distance, her chin cupped in her hand.
“Think I’ll ever have a normal life again?”
Stefan shrugged. “If that’s what you want, why not?”
“When I saw all the cameras going up around the house, I began to feel claustrophobic. I can’t step outside with people snapping photos.”
“You can here.”
Penelope sipped her cocoa. “I couldn’t live in a place like this.”
“It’s your choice.” When she looked doubtful, he said, “Really, it’s a choice you can make. At any time, you can walk away. What could you get for your house in the Hollywood Hills?”
Penelope nodded thoughtfully.
“You’re feeling like people have control over you. In a sense, they do. But you can change that. I just wanted to show you that you still have the power to make choices in your life.”
“That sounds like the lawyer in you talking.”
He laughed and stretched his hands to clasp hers. “I want you to know that you’re safe here, and I have no expectations of you. I brought you here to recuperate. L.A. is a pressure cooker for high profile people. You needed a break.”
She raised her eyes to his. “How’d you become so wise?”
“Just learned a few things along the way.” He drained his cocoa. “Need to get some firewood.”
Leaving her inside, he stepped out to collect firewood he’d split the last time he was here. He filled his arms, wondering if this visit would be the complete undoing of them, or if it would bring them closer.
Perhaps he had been selfish in bringing her here, but at that moment in the hotel lobby when she’d pleaded with him to get her out of there, this cabin was the only thought that entered his mind. He’d never brought a client here before. Or any other woman.
Stomping snow from his shoes, he thought about Josh, hoping he would have some answers to his text when they returned. Suspicions simmered in his mind. Who would stand to benefit from Penelope’s death? Or from the media circus that surrounded it?