Spiral (The Salzburg Saga Book One) Read online

  SPIRAL

  The Salzburg Saga Book 1

  D. U. OKONKWO

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © 2015 by D. U. Okonkwo

  Published by A Few Words Press Ltd

  20-22 Wenlock Road, London N1 7GU

  ISBN: 978-0-9931617-4-2

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means – electronic, mechanical photocopy, recording, scanning, or other – except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles without the written permission of the publisher.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. Any similarities to any person, living or dead are purely coincidental.

  First Edition 2015

  www.duokonkwo.com

  Edited by: Jenny Sims at Editing4Indies

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  OTHER BOOKS BY D. U. OKONKWO

  RISE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Nina slipped her passport into her tan leather cross-body bag and zipped up her roller bag. The sharp slide of the bag’s zip punctuated the tense silence of the living room. After a moment’s hesitation, she flicked a glance at the man sprawled on the long cream sofa three feet from her.

  In ripped blue jeans and a too-tight white polo shirt, his gray-socked feet hanging over the arm of the sofa, Alex Riley raised his light brown eyes from his latest issue of Classic Cars, his eyes clashing with her blue.

  They eyed each other for several seconds. Alex eventually broke the stare, his eyes dropping resentfully to her luggage. “All ready then?”

  Though her lips thinned at his tone, Nina nodded and buttoned her sky blue ski jacket over a red wool jumper. “Yes, but, Alex–” She broke off. No, she would not succumb to another argument about this trip.

  “It doesn't bother you at all, does it?”

  She tightened her dark brown ponytail. “I can't let it bother me, Alex. Like I’ve said, this is a business networking trip. How could I ask to bring my boyfriend along?”

  “You could have asked Neil." Bitterness laced his words.

  Her teeth ground together. “This isn’t Neil’s trip; it’s Parker Drayton’s. You know he’s our biggest client. Besides, you don't even like him or his two sons that he’s bringing along.” In all honesty, she wasn't crazy about Justin and Hugh Drayton either, but Parker himself was fine.

  “Why must I like them?” Alex flipped a magazine page with a flick of his wrist. “While you network, I could be on the slopes. You said Parker’s rented a ten-bedroom chalet. Good enough for me. I don’t have to talk to him or his idiot sons.”

  Nina just looked at him. Typical. He’d fire insults behind someone’s back then take from them with a smile on his face. She glanced around her elegant living room. Located in Islington, it was the nicest place she’d ever lived in, and yet over the last six months, since Alex had moved in a year ago, it had become a hub of tension.

  “You're happy in your little palace aren't you, princess?”

  Her gaze whipped back to him. She hated it when he called her that. It wasn't a compliment. She knew it, and he knew that she knew it. “I work hard to keep us in this little palace, Alex.”

  His face reddened. “How could I forget? Nina Bishop, hotshot lawyer.” His eyes were hard, his lips thin. “Everything's always been so easy for you.”

  Easy for her? Nina almost laughed. He didn’t have a clue. And she hadn’t told him everything about her past because for some time she had realized he lacked the maturity to handle it. Turning away, she hefted her luggage onto her back. She understood how her being a partner in her own law firm, owning a nice flat, and driving a Mercedes looked as though it had come easily. Those things always looked like they came easily, when in most cases they came from hard work and grafting. “You didn't complain when you moved in last year, Alex. It’s a marked improvement from where you were before."

  As soon as the words left her mouth, she winced. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Too late. His face had flushed a dull red, shooting into the hairline of his light brown spiky hair. Sitting up on the sofa, he stared straight ahead. “No need to remind me that I can't afford a place like this. As my girlfriend, you’re supposed to be supportive.”

  “I am supportive.” On the rare occasions you do something worth supporting. “But I’m not responsible for you racking up a hundred thousand in debt.” She spoke slowly now as if speaking to cantankerous child. “I got you that position with the law firm Hayes and–”

  “It’s a position inferior to yours.”

  “You haven't passed the Bar." Anger blew up inside her, making her words curt and brittle and her fists clench at her sides. “I busted a gut getting you that position.” She’d called in several favors to get him into such a prestigious law firm. And for what? He’d barely shown any gratitude. This business trip would give them both the space they needed. And if she was completely honest with herself, it had been part of the reason she hadn't pushed to bring him along.

  A car horn beeped outside. The flat was located on the ground floor, and when Nina crossed to open the large window and draw up the blinds, her sister Hazel stood only feet from her front entrance. Crisp February air prickled Nina’s skin as she smiled at her younger sister. Hazel waited at the front door, bundled in a royal blue wool coat with a white scarf around her neck, grinning at her. Wisps of pale blond hair poked out from under her baker-boy hat.

  “Come in, Haze,” Nina said. “The door's open.” She snapped the window closed and turned to Alex. “Haze is here,” she told Alex.

  “Lucky us.”

  Her mouth tightened. “If it weren't for her, I wouldn't have a lift to the airport.”

  “I’ve told you that the wheels on my car need servicing.”

  “It’s needed servicing for the last three months. You–” She stopped when Hazel entered, and with a relieved smile, Nina went to embrace her sister. When they pulled apart, Nina caught Hazel’s barely concealed disdain as her sister’s hazel gaze swept over Alex. “Alex.”

  He didn't look up from his magazine. “Hazel.”

  Hazel gestured to Nina’s large roller bag. “Just this?”

  Nina nodded. “It's only a three day trip, besides, Parker suggested we wear as much as possible in order to keep our luggage light.”

  Hazel nodded at the ski jacket Nina wore. “Makes sense.”

  . “We better go. I don't want to keep the others waiting.”

  “I’ll go on ahead to the car.” Hazel began pulling it behind her as she strode for the door. “Thanks for your help, Alex.”

  He looked up then, face stiff with unconcealed annoyance. “We're on the ground floor, Hazel. You don't need a man for that.”

  Hazel stopped and glanced around the room in confusion. “Man? I don't see a man.”

  “Haze…” Nina gritted. She knew there was little love lost between those two, and she didn’t want them to get into anything now.

  “I'll wait in the car,” Hazel muttered as she slung Nina’s roller bag on her back and t
hen left.

  Alex stared after her with resentful eyes.

  Nina paused beside him. “Alex–”

  “Have fun,” he said dismissively, rising from the sofa. He left the room without a backward glance.

  On the balcony of his hotel suite, Parker Drayton’s gray brows had snapped together. “What do you mean a change of plan?” Taking a drag of his cigarette, he blew a stream of smoke out into the London skyline, watching as the wind prevented it from forming a perfect ring.

  “Just a minor inconvenience; we have everything’s under control.” To appease them both, Frank Gwynne, owner of the company providing the air transportation for the trip, spoke in soothing tones. On a sun lounger under the tropical rays of the Caribbean sun – blissfully a thousand miles from the grim cold of London – Frank picked up his second phone and pulled up Jake Rush's number. He wouldn’t allow himself to consider the possibility that Jake might have gone abroad for his annual leave. He himself had barely begun his own holiday before this nightmare had landed in his lap. He thought of Buzz again and his jaw clenched.

  “So who’s piloting our jet?” Parker asked.

  “Another of our top pilots, Jake,” Gwynne answered smoothly. “He’ll meet your party in Gatwick.” Please still be in London, Jake. “He's preparing everything as we speak.” Yeah, right.

  Parker tapped his cigarette on the balcony wall. Ashes fell to the cold cement ground before disintegrating. “I assume he's good?”

  Better than good, Gwynne thought, Jake Rush was his best. “He’s a seasoned pro and knows the Challenger fleet like the back of his hand. With his copilot Ben, your party will be in excellent hands. You’ll also have our best air stewardess, Emily, on board, too.”

  “Emily’s serving us?” Parker smiled, pleased. “She’s always very efficient.”

  “Precisely. Just as a side note, Jake will be breaking his holiday to do this.”

  “He is? That's kind of him.” At a sound behind him, Parker turned.

  His eldest son, Justin, leaned negligently against the doorframe. He’d pulled on jeans, but his dark hair remained shaggy and uncombed. His muscled arms lay crossed over his bare chest.

  “Hold on a second please, Gwynne.” Stubbing out his cigarette, Parker flicked it over the balcony then covered the mouthpiece of the phone. “You plan on traveling like that?” he demanded to Justin.

  Justin ignored the question, instead nodding at the phone Parker held. “Problem?”

  “No. Where's Hugh?”

  Justin arched an indignant brow. “When did I become my brother’s keeper?”

  Parker raised the phone to his ear again, his eyes still on Justin. “Gwynne?”

  “Still here.” Frank cleared his throat. “I’ll call you shortly when I have timings confirmed.”

  “Thanks.” Disconnecting, Parker slipped the phone into the pocket of his beige slacks.

  “Who’s in charge of the hotels while we’re away?” Justin asked, clearly in no rush to get ready.

  “Nick. Now will you please go and get ready?”

  “Nick?” Justin’s dark brows snapped together as he straightened abruptly from the doorframe. “Since when did Nick Egan become family? Hugh and I should’ve been your first choice.”

  “You and Hugh are on this trip with me, remember."

  "We didn’t ask to be," Justin reminded him in a testy voice.

  Parker sighed. "The three of us need to spend some quality time toget–”

  “Quality time?” Justin laughed incredulously. “On a business trip with your lawyers?”

  Parker held his son’s mocking gaze. “You and your brother have turned down every other suggestion I've thought of–”

  “Because it’s too late to start playing happy family,” Justin cut in. Without waiting for a reply, he spun on his heel and headed back into the suite.

  Parker started to call him back then stopped. Justin would only ignore him. Instead, he left the balcony, closing the door behind him, and went in search of his youngest son, Hugh.

  Whatever ‘fun’ his sons had had last night while he’d attended a business dinner had left its mark. Used cigarette butts, lipstick stained wineglasses, and soiled serviettes littered the rich wooden surfaces of the worktops. They hadn’t used coasters, and consequently, glass rings now stained the polished surfaces, making them appear dull and lifeless.

  He rapped sharply on Hugh's door. “Hugh?”

  When he received no answer, he knocked again, harder this time, and raised his voice.

  A moment later, the door creaked open and Hugh stood there in nothing but a pair of navy shorts. Red-eyed with stubble on his chin, he peered at Parker owlishly. He had his phone pressed to his ear. “What?” he asked as he raised a brow at his father.

  Grimacing at the alcohol on his son's breath, Parker slipped his hands into the pocket of his beige trousers; better there than around his son's neck. He looked pointedly at the shorts Hugh still wore. “Why aren't you ready?”

  “Will be. Soon.” Turning away, Hugh returned to his phone conversation.

  Parker stepped forward and swiped the phone from Hugh’s fingers.

  “Hey!” Hugh stared at him in disbelief. “Are you crazy?” Wobbling a bit, he grabbed the door handle to keep himself steady.

  Parker merely shot him a look as he lifted the phone back to his ear. The birdlike yapping that immediately assaulted his eardrum was enough to start a headache. Another one of his son's idiots, he realized wearily. He disconnected the call and tossed the phone onto Hugh’s unmade bed. “Please hurry. We can’t be late for a business trip that we’re hosting.”

  Hugh’s bloodshot eyes narrow in resentment. “I was talking to her.” He said the words slowly, but they still came out on a drunken slur. “She was about to give me her address. I didn't get it last night.”

  “Count yourself lucky.” Parker decided that he’d officially run out of patience and stepped out of the room. He cast a quick glance over at Hugh’s open back pack. “Make sure you remember to bring–”

  “You don’t need to tell me. I've been skiing before. And you weren’t there. As usual.” With that, Hugh slammed the door shut on Parker’s face.

  Jake Rush groaned when his work phone rang. Not while I’m working out. Why in the heck didn’t I turn it off? He was, he reminded himself, officially on annual leave. Bench press suspended in midair, he debated ignoring it, and then with a mutter at his own dedication to his job, he dropped the weights and sat up. Snagging a towel, he wiped the sweat from his face and grabbed the phone sitting on his latest issue of Plane and Pilot. When he saw the name flashing on the screen, he frowned and hit the answer button. “Frank?”

  “Rush. Thank God you're home. Sorry to call on your annual leave.”

  Jake’s dark brows lifted at his boss’ stressed tone. Frank Gwynne rarely stressed. As the founder and CEO of Jets by Gwynne, Frank was a man of wealth, experience, and influence. He paid others to get harassed for him.

  Something – or someone – had seriously messed up.

  Moving to sit on the edge of his unmade bed, Jake crossed his feet at the ankles. “Frank? Aren't you supposed to be on holiday, too?” The wail of a baby had answered Jake’s question before Frank did, and Jake smiled.

  “I'm on holiday, yeah. Hold on a second.” Frank paused to say something to someone. A moment later the baby’s noise disappeared though Frank still sounded stressed. “We've got an emergency with our new number one, Rush.”

  Jake’s mouth flattened. “You gave the new number one to Buzz.”

  “Buzz is the problem.”

  So what else is new? “You gave him the new number one,” he repeated.

  Despite being thousands of miles away, Frank’s sigh came across loud and resigned, the guilt still clearly weighing on him. “I had to throw him a bone, Rush. He was whining about never doing any Challenger runs.”

  “There’s a reason for that.”

  “I know, I know, but we have a problem
now, which involves a Challenger. I hate to ask you to break your leave…”

  But you will anyway. Kissing his carefree day goodbye, Jake ran his fingers through his sweat-dampened black hair and let out a sigh. “What do you need me to do? But first, for my own morbid curiosity, what's Buzz done this time?”

  Frank's words were bitten out like blocks of ice. "Eloped with a member of the flight crew."

  That would be Janine, Jake knew. So Buzz had made an honest woman of her. Walking to his wardrobe, Jake pulled out his pilot gear with his free hand.

  “It means our client doesn’t have anyone to pilot the jet.” Frank spoke matter-of-factly now; needed to take care of business and there was little time for pleasantries. “We need you to fly them to Salzburg. They have cars arranged to take them to Kitzbűhel, which is where they’ll be staying. I’ll email you the details. Once you’ve dropped them, you can fly right back and enjoy the rest of your annual leave. I’ll arrange another member of the team to pick them up. How soon can you get to Gatwick?”

  Jake glanced at his bedside clock. “They'll have to wait a bit. I'll need to shift a few things around.”

  “Naturally. Try to get those things shifted ASAP, won’t you? What can I tell the client?”

  “That I’ll get there when I get there.” When Gwynne met that remark with stoic silence, Jake sighed and relented. “I’ll aim to get there in two hours.” He lived close to Gatwick, which was no doubt one of the reasons Gwynne had called him.

  “Appreciate it. I've put Ben in front with you and Emily in back; you three always work well together.”

  “You had this all worked out, didn't you?” Jake asked in amazement. “You've told the client I'll do the job.” He headed for his small en suite bathroom.

  A smile came into Frank's voice. “Absolutely. I can always rely on you, Rush.” He chuckled at Jake's answering grunt. “Speak to you when you get back.” Frank prepared to hang up.