61
The media beat Peter Reiniger to the
airport in Sonora. The flash flood—and the rockslides, the station
wagon that washed into the river, and a school bus that had nearly
been swept away—had brought news crews to the Sierra foothills.
Through the window of the G5, Reiniger saw reporters and
photographers and a TV crew from Sacramento, with its television
cameras, its microphones, its van with the microwave dish on top.
His private jet was the most exciting thing to land in the
pine-covered hills for at least half an hour.
The plane eased to a stop. Reiniger opened the door
himself while the engines were still screaming. Waiting outside the
terminal building was Autumn.
The steps came down. Reiniger climbed out and ran
across the wet runway. Autumn stood solemnly, her curls rising in
the wind like a corona. The morning sun reflected from the
rainwater on the ground, blinding gold. She was wearing a jean
jacket and hiking boots he didn’t recognize. She was pale. She had
dark circles under her eyes.
Where was Dustin? Reiniger would have expected to
see him holding Autumn up. Instead, Lark was beside his daughter.
Autumn hugged the chubby girl, said something to her, quietly. Lark
squeezed her back. Autumn turned and strode toward him.
He crossed the distance in seconds. The jet’s
engines wound down behind him. He grasped Autumn by the shoulders,
fighting emotion. The media was watching.
“Thank God.” He embraced her. “You’re safe. It’s
over.” He squeezed her hard. She felt edgy and exhausted and
resistant.
She pulled back. “I’m safe.”
Her eyes were dry. She stood as stiff as a door.
Was she still terrified?
“It’s okay. You don’t have to be afraid anymore,”
he said.
He glanced at the crowd outside the terminal. Lark
was sensible and grounded. If Autumn lost it, Lark could pick up
the pieces. Lark could get Autumn to hold it together.
“Where is everybody?” he said.
“Didn’t you hear?”
He smiled. “Hear what?”
She looked astonished. “Don’t you know? Dustin’s
dead. Grier’s dead.”
Reiniger felt all the heat in his body
evaporate.
“It was Dane Haugen,” she said.
Reiniger’s hands wouldn’t seem to work. Or his
tongue. He tried to take Autumn’s hand and couldn’t raise his arm.
He felt frozen.
“You knew it was Haugen, didn’t you?” she
said.
Her gaze felt like raw heat. He nodded. “He wanted
me to ransom you.”
“It was revenge, wasn’t it? Because you fired him.
Because he freaked out on an Edge Adventures weekend.”
“Autumn, not here.”
“You’d been letting him do whatever he wanted until
then. But he couldn’t cut it in your playground, so you cut him
loose.”
“Not here,” he said, glancing at the news
crews. But she wouldn’t move. Finally, Reiniger said, “He’s a bad
man.”
“He’s dead too. And so is the Bad Cowboy. I killed
him.”
Reiniger felt the words go through him. They made
no sense. “What do you mean, killed him? Like, a game? You got him
out of your system?”
“I shot him with Haugen’s three-fifty-seven
revolver.” She waited, frosty and implacable. “We have to call
Grier’s family. And Dustin’s.”
He rubbed his forehead. “Right.”
“You didn’t pay him the money, did you?” she
said.
“No. I didn’t.”
“What did he want you to do?”
He didn’t want to discuss this. “It’s irrelevant.
It’s done now. You’re safe.”
“He was going to make a killing in the market,
wasn’t he?”
“Autumn. Enough. You’re out of it. You don’t know
what you’re saying.”
“But you were willing to pull all kinds of dirty
tricks to buy my way out of there, right? And let Haugen fly off in
your jet?”
“I’m your father. I’d do anything to save you.
Anything.”
“That’s the problem.”
She turned and headed toward the small terminal.
Cameras and microphones perked up and swung their way. Reiniger
hurried after her.
“Where are you going?” he said.
“Leaving.”
“So get on the jet.”
“No. We’re driving back to the hospital to see Noah
and Peyton. Then we’re going to talk about your money.”
“Autumn—”
She turned, slowly, with great deliberation. “Did
you pull cash out of Reiniger Capital?”
“Yes.” He was hot now. “It can’t be undone. I’m on
the line for all of it.”
“Good. Because you’re going to take the proceeds
and put them toward Noah’s recuperation, and Peyton’s. And money
for scholarships in Grier’s and Dustin’s names. And we’ll find out
from the sheriff’s office what they need, and you’ll set up a trust
fund in memory of the deputy who died last night. And another for
the family of the rancher who was killed.”
Autumn stood in front of him, dirty and exhausted,
and wearing it like a badge of honor and rage and friendship. Lark
watched her with open pride in her eyes.
Reiniger hesitated, incredulous. His daughter was
steel.
“Have the Edge game runners been found?” she
said.
He nodded. “They’re all alive.”
“Great.” She looked relieved. “That’s wonderful.
Put them on the payroll at Reiniger Capital.”
“Excuse me?”
“They’re going to need new jobs.”
He paused. “I think you’re confused—”
“They’ll need new jobs, because you’re going to pay
whatever it takes to buy Edge Adventures. And shut it down.”
“Autumn. Get real.”
Her smile was chilly. “Right. Real. In that case,
you buy Edge. And I’ll shut it down.”
She put an arm around Lark. Reiniger stood on the
runway like he’d been struck by lightning. He watched Autumn walk
away.