Midnight Jewels

the obvious places in the small room, Mercy took a motel envelope out of the desk drawer and addressed it to herself in Ignatius Cove. If she didn't return to Ignatius Cove within a few days, Dome would check Mercy's mailbox and see the envelope. Eventually the envelope would be opened by someone, hopefully someone in authority who would know what to do about such a bizarre situation.
    Following a few more minutes of consideration, Mercy wrote a carefully worded note listing everything she knew or suspected about Gladstone. If she were making a mistake by going into the lion's den, then this note and the film might conceivably still be used to expand the options for her survival as well as Croft's.
    When she was finished, she took it down to the motel lobby, bought a stamp and dropped the envelope into a mailbox. One could only hope that the U.S. mail was still relatively sacrosanct. Then she inquired about renting a car.
    After filling out the paperwork on the car, Mercy bought a small bottle of glue at an old-fashioned general store a few blocks from the motel. She spent several precious minutes regluing the tear in the leather spine of
Valley
. When she was done she looked at it critically and decided the quick fix would probably pass inspection as long as someone wasn't looking too thoroughly. The glue dried quickly.
    A few minutes later she was on her way to meet Isobel Ascanius in an isolated mountain meadow.
    It was unfortunate, Mercy thought, that she really disliked small aircraft. But she was learning that one terror could counter another. Her fears about what might be planned for Croft were more than enough to control her fears about flying in the helicopter.

    Mercy heard the relentless chopping sound of the rotor blades within minutes after she parked her car amid the trees as Isobel had stipulated. She got out slowly and watched as Isobel set the helicopter down in the middle of the meadow with absolutely no regard for the wildflowers.
    Croft would not have approved.
    Clutching
Valley
, Mercy moved toward the idling helicopter. Isobel sat inside, signaling imperiously for Mercy to hurry. The cabin door on the passenger side was open. The blades created a wild, violent wash of air that caught at Mercy's hair as she ducked instinctively and climbed into the cockpit.
    "You have the book?" Isobel said loudly, eyeing the packing in Mercy's arm.
    Mercy nodded and reached for the seat belt. Her stomach twisted abruptly as Isobel lifted the helicopter back into the air. The meadow fell away beneath Mercy's feet and the peaks of the mountains stood out like teeth against the sunset. It would be so easy for those teeth to snag the small craft and drag it down from the sky.
    The trick was to focus on something else, Mercy thought. She tried to remember what Croft had said about meditation. You had to clear your mind, concentrate on a centered, focused image—
    "Is Croft all right?" Mercy asked, wrenching her mind away from images of shattered aircraft.
    "You will soon see for yourself." Isobel's classical profile was not marred in the least by her reflective sunglasses. They just served to give her an added touch of exotic mystery. Her hair was in a chignon and somehow the khaki jumpsuit she wore seemed to be the height of fashion.
    "You'll never get away with this, you know," Mercy called above the noise of the rotor. "I know that probably sounds trite under the circumstances, but it's true."
    "Get away with what? The book is ours. We are merely retrieving it."
    "You tried to kill us!"
    "Nonsense. You both got drunk and went for a joyride down the mountain at midnight. You're lucky you both survived."
    "Tell me something, Isobel. Do you like doing this kind of thing for a living?"
    "You tell me something, Miss Pennington. Have you ever been so dirt poor that you had to sell your body to a man for the night in order to have enough to eat?"
    "No, and I don't believe you've ever been that poor either. There are always alternatives."
    "You don't know what you're talking about. You're a sheltered, naive little creature. Well, I have been that poor and I am very determined never to be that poor again. I am determined that no man will ever use me again. I am the one who will use them. One of these days I will be controlling people like Erasmus Gladstone and his kind. I will do whatever I must to achieve my goals."
    Mercy heard the conviction in her voice and decided there was nothing more to be said. She sat back in