shortly.”
* * *
Once Sarah left the lights of Zurich behind, she zoomed south on the six-lane E41. Speed limits in Switzerland didn’t approach the insanity of those in Germany, but the 120 kilometers per hour max got her to the shores of Lake Lucerne in a little over forty minutes.
The city of Lucerne sat on the western arm of the lake. A modern metropolis with an ancient center, its proximity to the Alps had made it a favorite destination for tourists from the earliest days of the Hapsburg Empire. The Duchy of Karlenburgh had once constituted a minuscule part of that vast Hapsburg empire. As the lights of the city glowed in the distance, Sarah remembered that Grandmama had shared some of the less painful stories from the St. Sebastians’ past during their stay in Lucerne.
She wasn’t thinking of the past as she wound through the narrow streets of the Old Town. Only of her sister and whether whatever trouble Gina was in might impact their grandmother’s health. The old worries she’d carried for so long—the worries she’d let herself slough off when she’d gotten so tangled up with Dev—came crashing back.
It was almost 3:00 a.m. when she pulled up at the entrance to the Hotel zum Rebstock. Subdued lighting illuminated its half-timbered red-and-white exterior. Three stories tall, with a turreted tower anchoring one end of the building, the hotel had a history dating back to the 1300s. Even this early in the season, geraniums filled its window boxes and ivy-covered trellises defined the tiny terrace that served as an outdoor restaurant and biergarten.
Weary beyond words, Sarah grabbed her tote and purse and left the car parked on the street. She’d have a valet move it to the public garage on the next block tomorrow. Right now all she cared about was getting to her sister.
As promised, Gina had notified reception of a late arrival. Good thing, since a sign on the entrance informed guests that for safety purposes a key card was required for entry after midnight. A sleepy attendant answered Sarah’s knock and welcomed her to the Rebstock.
“Lady Eugenia asked that we give you a key. She is in room 212. The elevator is just down the hall. Or you may take the stairs.”
“Thank you.”
She decided the stairs would be quicker and would also work out the kinks in her back from the flight and the drive. The ancient wooden stairs creaked beneath their carpeted runner. So did the boards of the second-floor hallway as Sarah counted room numbers until she reached the one at the far end of the hall. A corner turret room, judging by the way its door was wedged between two others.
She slid the key card into the lock and let herself into a narrow, dimly lit entryway.
“Gina?”
The door whooshed shut behind her. Sarah rounded the corner of the entryway, found herself in a charming bedroom with a sitting area occupying the octagonal turret and came to a dead stop. Her sister was tucked under the double bed’s downy duvet, sound asleep.
A rueful smile curved Sarah’s lips. She’d raced halfway across Europe in response to a desperate plea. Yet whatever was troubling Gina didn’t appear to be giving her nightmares. She lay on one side, curled in a tight ball with a hand under her cheek and her blond curls spilling across the pillow.
Shaking her head in amused affection, Sarah dropped her tote and purse on the sofa in the sitting area and plunked down on the side of the bed.
“Hey!” She poked her sister in the shoulder. “Wake up!”
“Huh?” Gina raised her head and blinked open blurry eyes. “Oh, good,” she muttered, her voice thick with sleep. “You made it.”
“Finally.”
“You’ve got to be totally wiped,” she mumbled. Scooting over a few inches, she dragged up a corner of the comforter. “Crawl in.”
“Oh, for...!”
Sarah swallowed the rest of the exasperated exclamation. Gina’s head had already plopped back to the pillow. Her lids fluttered shut and her raised arm sank like a stone.
The elder sister sat on the edge of the bed for a few moments longer, caught in a wash of relief and bone-deep love for the younger. Then she got up long enough to kick off her boots and unbelt the cherry-red sweater coat. Shrugging it off, she slid under the comforter.
As exhausted as she was from her frantic dash across Europe, it took Sarah longer than she would have believed possible to fall asleep. She lay in the half darkness, listening to her sister’s steady breathing, trying yet again to guess what had sparked her panic. Gradually, her thoughts shifted to Dev and their last exchange.
She’d overreacted to his criticism of Gina. She knew that now. At the time, though, her one driving thought had been to get to the airport. She’d apologize tomorrow. He had sisters of his own. Surely he’d understand.
Sarah came awake to blinding sunshine and the fuzziness that results from too little sleep. She rolled over, grimacing at the scratchy pull of her slept-in slacks and turtleneck, and squinted at the empty spot beside her.
No Gina.
And no note, she discovered when she crawled out of bed and checked the sunny sitting room. More than a little annoyed, she padded into the bathroom. Face scrubbed, she appropriated her sister’s hairbrush and found a complimentary toothbrush in the basket of amenities provided by the hotel.
Luckily, she and Gina wore the same size, if not the same style. While she was content to adapt her grandmother’s vintage classics, her sister preferred a trendier, splashier look. Sarah raided Gina’s underwear for a pair of silky black hipsters and matching demibra, then wiggled into a chartreuse leotard patterned in a wild Alice In Wonderland motif. She topped them with a long-sleeved, thigh-skimming wool jumper in electric blue and a three-inch-wide elaborately studded belt that rode low on her hips.
No way was she wearing her red sweater coat with these eye-popping colors. She’d look like a clown-school dropout. She flicked a denim jacket off a hangar instead, hitched her purse over her shoulder and went in search of her sister.
She found Gina outside on the terrace, chatting with an elderly couple at the next table. She’d gathered her blond curls into a one-sided cascade and looked impossibly chic in pencil-legged jeans, a shimmering metallic tank and a fur-trimmed Michael Kors blazer. When she spotted Sarah, she jumped up and rushed over with her arms outstretched.
“You’re finally up! You got in so late last night I... Omigod! What happened to your face?”
Sarah was more anxious to hear her sister’s story than tell her own. “I got crosswise of a metal strut.”
“I’m so sorry! Does it hurt?”
“Not anymore.”
“Thank goodness. We’ll have to cover it with foundation when we go back upstairs. Do you want some coffee?”
“God, yes!”
Sarah followed her back to the table and smiled politely when Gina introduced her to the elderly couple. They were from Düsseldorf, were both retired schoolteachers and had
