The Mystery of Novak Manor - An Eleanor and Lydia Mystery

Chapter Fifteen

The moment the detective called for backup, the media flew into a frenzy of activity. The little mountain village in Eastern Europe glowed like downtown Tokyo with spotlights, police lights, headlights from automobiles, and search lights from the news helicopters. Three of them circled now--a few of the buzzards that chose to remain in the sky for the time-being. 

An officer had informed the crowd that an official statement would be issued momentarily from the front steps of the inn. 

The fact that the snowfall had increased substantially did nothing at all to deter anyone from coming. It seemed half the nation must have arrived since Eleanor last peeked out the window at the crowd. Soldiers now held everyone back. The police officers had been employed in escorting those who needed to come and go through the melee.

Eleanor catalogued the night's events. They got their evidence. The bad guys were in jail. The treasure was safely tucked away in its temporary hiding place. Not a single serious injury had been incurred by anyone. And yet... the stone in the pit of her belly refused to dissolve. 

She told herself it was the media presence. The present half-controlled chaos brought to mind the cameras and questions she'd faced when that boy had died.

But no one died this time. Everything is fine.

Her gut wasn't buying it.

Another car pulled into the circle drive directly in front of them and Lord Novak emerged from the back seat. The police officers gave him a wide berth and showed proper respect making it clear that this was the escorting of a royal dignitary, not the transporting of a prisoner. 

"It's showtime. You ready?" Eleanor asked.

Lydia raised her eyebrows as if to ask if the question was a joke.

The two women slipped out of the car and they ascended the front steps once again. Eleanor held onto her great-granddaughter with one arm. The knitting bag that had proved so useful dangled from the other.

The American with the little earring bullied his way to the front of the line. "Mrs. Albright, were you part of what happened tonight? Were you operating with official authority? Medical personnel were called to the jail. Why? Was someone injured? Did you have anything to do with that?"

Lord Novak turned at the top of the steps and met Eleanor's gaze. He reached out and shook her hand. Loud enough for the microphones to pick it up, he thanked her for her invaluable service to the nation. She forced a smile for him. Then he turned and nodded to the officer at the entrance. The doors were pushed open and the castle staff stepped out. The officer motioned for them to join the ladies standing off to the side of the staircase.

The cook came first, red-eyed and appearing bemused. 

Vlad Jovanovic stumped out behind him, scowling. The two created an exercise in contrast.

Anna Melnyk walked with chin held high, daring the world to challenge her.

Sasha Horvath brought up the rear, his body hunched, hands deep in his pockets. His gaze darted around the crowd and landed on Lord Novak. 

Eleanor saw the moment pain burst into the full bloom of hatred. She released Lydia's arm.

"You betrayed us," Sasha said. His voice rasped from his throat, the voice of a man who'd been weeping. "We trusted you. Believed in you. You were our leader, our father, everything and now--"

Eleanor moved toward him. "You don't understand. What you've been told was necessary for--"

The bright lights reflected from the glossy black gun the boy yanked from his coat pocket. The police leapt toward the little group. Someone knocked Lord Novak to the ground. Eleanor reached for the young man who was no longer Sasha Horvath in her mind's eye but another boy--the one who was dead and gone because of Eleanor and her feeble schemes. She threw herself toward that young life in exactly the same way others had thrown their own bodies over the crown prince.

The bullet slammed into her, taking her breath away. Pain exploded across her side. 

Someone's hands were on her. Turning her. Already tending to her. Lydia appeared with wide terror-stricken eyes. "Nana?"

Eleanor saw the officers haul the gardener to his feet and wrestle his arms behind his back. The boy was in a world of trouble, but he was alive.

The stone in her belly dissolved. She gave Lydia's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I bet that American reporter is having the time of his life," she said and then she passed out.