Chapter 27

Fry took one hand off the wheel to answer his phone and nearly lost control of the Jeep Patriot on the slippery road.

“Robar,” said the voice of his cousin at once. “A man has been killed in the village, but he does not look like any of the pictures.”

“That means they must have escaped. They’ve been at that location for more than five hours,” Fry said. “Anything else?”

“There was a struggle. This one came in from outside and was shot as he entered. Wait.” There was a long pause and Fry could hear a discussion between his cousins. The voice returned to the phone. “There is a man climbing up on the slopes from this direction.”

“Can you tell who it is?”

“His back is to us and his parka hood is up.”

“Follow him, but don’t move in,” Fry instructed. “Don’t try to apprehend him unless there is a threat. I’ll pick you up on the other side.”

“It will be good to stretch our legs. I hear the view from the top is wonderful,” said his cousin. “See you on the other side.” Fry disconnected and dropped his phone on the front seat of the car as he entered another all but deserted village, six kilometers north of the summit. He slowed to a stop and checked the GPS tracking device. The map showed up in brilliant color, but something was wrong. The dot representing Keith Drucker had stopped and Fry went right past him. Fry backed into a narrow space between two buildings and watched the screen. In a few minutes the dot started moving toward him again. If it passed on the main road he would get a look at who was in the car. But the car was not moving along the main road. Instead the dot was moving into the hills behind the town and heading back toward the mountain. Fry checked his gear and got out of his car. Before he could determine his route to intercept the moving dot, his phone rang again.