really doing here? Why go to Lhasa now? Nobody goes to Lhasa.”

“The Nazis have sent an expedition to Tibet.”

“Nazis!”

“SS officers. I’m to find out what they’re up to.”

She looked more puzzled than ever. “Why you?”

“I’ve been to the edge of Tibet twice before, on museum expeditions.”

“So the American, British, and Chinese governments send a curator?” It clearly made no sense to her.

“When we came before, we had an international group. One of the scientists was a German named Kurt Raeder. An able mountain climber, crack shot, and trained zoologist like me. It was a natural partnership.”

“You mean you know German?”

“Yes, but I mean I know Raeder. He’s the leader of this new Nazi group, coming back to a nation we visited before.”

“Ah. So you can approach him, as a friend, to learn what he’s up to.”

Hood gave a humorless smile. “Actually, he’s an enemy.”

This intrigued her. “Really? You had a falling-out? Tug-of-war over a carcass? Argument over the right scientific Latin name?”

She was teasing, but he decided to be honest. The truth was, she was risking her life just taking him there. And she was obviously intelligent. “Argument over a woman.”

“Ah.”

“Her name was Keyuri Lin. Her husband hired on as a porter and guide and she came with him to cook and clean. Raeder had his eye on her from the beginning; she’s very pretty. He and the husband were out one day and Mondro fell off a cliff. Or so Raeder said.”

“What do you mean?”

“Perhaps he was pushed. It was the first thing I thought, anyway.”

“That’s quite the accusation.”

“Maybe, but I didn’t like the guy. Too… driven.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“Raeder turned his consolation of Keyuri into something else pretty quick. He’s as striking as she is, and perhaps she’d encouraged him, either knowingly or unwittingly. You know how people are.”

“Lusty. Clumsy. Stupid.” Now she stretched out her legs. She had a fine set of them, and knew it.

“They no doubt hoped they could be discreet about the whole thing, but nothing is secret in an expedition camp. There was no evidence of murder, and ordinarily none of it would be my business. But then she began to look frightened.”

“Of what?”

“Raeder. I think there’s some Germanic dark spot on the man’s soul. He didn’t just want to possess her, he wanted to consume her, or hurt her, to make her a kind of slave. I warned him to be careful and he exploded at me, warning me off.”

“Is that so surprising?”

“No… but the change in his personality, the switch from dignity to rage, was so complete that I began carrying a loaded pistol even in camp. There’s something dark in him beyond the usual Nazi bravado. I was afraid he’d try something violent. Finally Keyuri crept to me at night and pleaded for rescue. She… showed me her body. There were cuts and burns and she feared for her life.”

Calloway gave him a sideways glance.

“I decided to fire him. But he was stirring the others against me, complaining I was trying to steal his woman, this fragile widow, and people began choosing sides. I feared it would rip the camp apart, and possibly result in violence. I… was wary of Raeder.”

“Chicken, you mean. And it’s been eating you ever since.”

Hood frowned at the assessment but didn’t dispute it. “So one night I simply took her and fled with some of the animals, leaving a note that my financial support of the expedition was over. Some blamed me for their failure to complete their scientific objectives. Raeder felt humiliated. And it was worse than that.”

Beth was enjoying the tale now, absorbed without pretending sympathy. Two men, one woman? Old story. “Worse how?”

“I fell in love with Keyuri myself. And eventually we made love, but we were all mixed up. The expedition had been derailed. She felt guilty about whether she might have played a role in the death of her husband. She was angry at Raeder, but embarrassed at having embarrassed him as well. The victim began to feel like the culprit. So one night she left me, too. It took quite a while to get over it.”

“And you are over it? This has nothing to do with why we’re flying to Tibet?”

“The last I heard, she’d entered a Buddhist nunnery.”

“So you’re going back to salt the wound.” It was a judgment. “Good move, college boy.”

“I’d just like to set things right.”

“You can’t set things right. That’s the whole point of history.”

“Well, this history is what you’re flying to, which is what you wanted to know. And maybe I can write the future.”

“What does that mean?”

“Keyuri is still there, as far as I know. I’m going back so Kurt Raeder doesn’t hurt anyone else, ever again.”

18

Hood’s Cabin, Cascade Mountains, United States

September 4, Present Day

T he last home of Benjamin Hood was a swaybacked cabin of weathered gray logs, its chinking as gapped as the teeth of a punch-drunk prizefighter and its mossy roof shaggy as a bear. The place listed like the Titanic, and Rominy thought its intention was to sink back into the earth. Her new property was not shelter, it was a trauma victim in need of emergency infusions from Home Depot.

Jake once more opened the pickup door from the outside-the need to do so made it seem like they were on some kind of ludicrous date-and then dug a lantern out of the toolbox in the bed of the pickup. While he did that, Rominy burrowed behind the seats to get the first aid kit again to re-dress her knees. A wink of brass caught her eye. It was almost entirely hidden under his camping gear, tucked at the edge of a floor mat. She instinctively reached. It was a small shell casing for a bullet, she saw, empty of powder.

Jake said he didn’t have a gun. A leftover from an earlier owner or outing? She considered asking but he was preoccupied in the toolbox. The casing tickled her memory, but she wasn’t sure why. She pocketed it for later.

“Come on, heiress!” He swung the lantern to help beat a path through high weeds and blackberries to the cabin’s sagging porch. When Rominy stepped up, a piece of deck broke through. Something furtive skittered away. Great.

“Another piece of my fabulous inheritance?” she said, pulling her heeled shoe free of the rot. “I should have worn waders.”

“Another piece of the puzzle, I hope. And I’ve got some spare boots in the truck I can loan you.”

“You have my size?”

“Maybe. Old girlfriend left ’em when she dumped me.”

“Now why would a woman do that?”

“That’s what I asked.” He stepped over some animal droppings and went to the plank door. “You never get an answer.”

“But now you’re Prince Charming and I get a hand-me-down glass slipper?”

“I’m on the trail of a story and you might need to walk in the woods.”

“Gosh, she was wrong. You are romantic.”

She’d joke with him now.

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