Chapter Three

An attempt on one's life was a shocking and highly upsetting experience. Hans had only escaped serious injury or death because of his years of training as a swordsman. He had dodged almost all of the flying knives, only being grazed on the arm by one of them. Now he sat on the couch in his manager's hotel room while the gruff man examined and bandaged the slice.

"And you have no idea who could have done this?" Lawton Colman had a deep, drawling voice and he deliberately imitated the actor John Wayne in his speech. Hans had never heard him speak any other way. Sometimes he wondered if Lawton even remembered how to speak another way.

"No," Hans retorted. "Not unless it's either someone from Arendelle or an irate fan of the movie."

Lawton straightened, tossing the rest of the supplies into the hotel room's first aid kit. "People are insane. It could be either or both. In any case, I don't want this getting out."

Hans was certainly no stranger to things being hushed up. He knew it could be done. Still, he gave Lawton a wary look. "Do you have the resources for that?"

"Money talks." Lawton stepped out into the hall and soon returned with all of the knives gathered in his thick hands. "We're not letting anyone know that you were attacked or that you're Hans Westergaard. The latter is what you want too, isn't it?"

"Yes. . . . For now, anyway," Hans said. He frowned at the knives. "But this might happen again."

"We'll stay on guard," Lawton insisted. "We don't need this kind of publicity."

Hans definitely didn't care for it, it was true. But he wondered if sweeping it under the rug was really in his best interest.

"Those sisters you were messing with," Lawton spoke now. "Would they send someone to kill you if they found out you were around?"

Hans started. "No!" he snapped with a vehemence that surprised him. "They're too honorable for that. And . . ." He clenched a fist. "I wasn't 'messing' with them."

"Yeah, yeah, you were controlled, I got that part." Lawton sounded bored. He had never believed Hans' story either, and indeed, Hans wouldn't have even told it if not for thinking the official version would be a deterrent to Lawton managing him. But Lawton only cared about money, as he told Hans multiple times in multiple ways. Hans actually being an attempted murderer wouldn't bother him one iota, which was honestly disturbing and made him wonder exactly what sort of person Lawton really was deep down. He knew the business and he was willing to manage Hans when others hadn't taken a chance. Otherwise, Hans would have preferred someone else.

It was useless to say more in his defense, so he settled for an icy glare that Elsa might have been proud of. "In any case, I know they would never be responsible for this."

Lawton grunted. "Whatever you say. Most people are pretty vindictive deep down, and Elsa's overly protective of Anna. That sounds like a perfect motive right there, whether you were 'controlled' or not."

Hans frowned. He couldn't deny Lawton really did have a point. Elsa must hate him even more than Anna did. But would she hate him enough to hire an assassin? He still couldn't really picture that. He wasn't an active threat at all and had made no contact with the girls since that horrible time. Elsa might be on guard for him, but trying to kill him?

"I still don't think it was her," he said at last.

"I'm sure she'd cover her tracks well," Lawton said. From his glinting eyes, he could tell that Hans' resolve had weakened a bit.

"Do you want it to be her?" Hans finally demanded.

"No," Lawton said. "I just think she's the most obvious suspect."

And he had a point on that too. But Hans didn't want to discuss it any further. ". . . What are you going to do with all the knives?" he asked.

"Clean them and try to trace who might have used them," Lawton said. "It's probably useless, though."

And useless it was. The knives had turned out to be common kitchen tools stolen from the hotel. There had been no way to trace them to anyone. The other attempts hadn't left any better clues.

Hans sighed in utter frustration and laid back on his bed in a different hotel. No matter how much he went over and over all the murder attempts in his mind, he couldn't come up with any clues that hadn't already been found or any suspects they hadn't already considered. He had talked to Trudge and Radley's group for ages about it and they had all run up against brick walls. By mutual agreement, they were taking a break for the night.

And he was still troubled by the question that had been brought up earlier. Could Lawton himself either be behind the murder attempts or just be waiting for one of them to succeed in order to claim the insurance money? They certainly weren't close by any stretch of the imagination and he knew Lawton had a mercenary heart through and through. Still, he hadn't even considered that Lawton might actually want him dead until it had been suggested. Now he couldn't stop thinking about it.

Those who believed him guilty of deliberately trying to harm Anna and Elsa would no doubt think he deserved it and that it was very fitting. But unless he was fooling himself and refusing to remember things the way they had actually happened, he was a victim then as well as now. And he did not want to experience having someone betray him and turn against him, even if he didn't afford them near the amount of trust Anna had had in him.

He got out his phone, studying the series of text messages he had sent to Lawton. It had started with a simple If you heard about the explosion at the hotel, I'm alright. When there hadn't been a response, he had followed that up with, Where are you? And several hours later with, Are you alright? The most recent one he had sent said, I need to talk with you right away. Please answer me!

He had tried calling as well, of course, but it always went to voicemail. That was not usual and it bothered him. He had left several voice messages over the course of the last several hours too. Now, in the unsettling stillness of the night, he decided to try one more time.

This time there was a click and the phone apparently picked up, but whether it was answering itself or Lawton had answered, Hans didn't know. "Hello?" he demanded. "Lawton, are you there?!"

Still no reply.

"Lawton, if you're there and just not answering me . . ." Hans frowned. Everything sounded silent in the background, at least at first. If he strained hard, it started to sound like heavy breathing near the phone. Was Lawton laying hurt? Or had someone else commandeered his phone and was listening on it without speaking?

He scowled. If they were on the same cellphone plan, he could use the Find My app to track Lawton's phone. But they were not.

Still . . . if someone else was on the line, they surely wouldn't know that. Maybe he could run a bluff to try to find out.

"Alright, I've had just about enough of this," he declared. "I've needed to talk to you all evening. If you're not going to tell me where you are, I'm going to track you down with the Find My app."

Nothing changed. If someone was listening in, they either weren't intimidated at the thought of being tracked down or they knew he really couldn't.

He waited for what he hoped was a reasonable amount of time before speaking again. "I have your location now," he fibbed. "I'm coming out immediately."

Still nothing. The heavy breathing continued.

Now he was honestly concerned. If no one unwelcome was on the line, Lawton was either asleep or unconscious. And unless Lawton really was leaving him high and dry, he doubted the explanation was as simple as sleep.

Although they had learned he definitely had been at the Maverick casino. Surely he wouldn't have been there if he'd been hurt, and if he hadn't been hurt in the hotel blast, how would he get hurt otherwise?

"Lawton!" he called.

When there was still no response, he hung up in bewildered frustration. What was there to do? The police were all looking for him by this time and Hans had no further ideas of specific places to try. It seemed hopeless.

. . . What would Anna do?

What a bizarre thought to pop into his mind. Anyway, he knew the answer to that immediately. She would march right out and start looking herself and danger could go to blazes. Anna was reckless and unconcerned for herself when it came to people she loved.

Loved?

Well, he certainly didn't care that deeply about his mysterious, money-hungry manager. But Lawton still mattered to him and he was concerned.

He was skilled with a sword, could use a gun, and certainly wouldn't be defenseless if pounced upon . . . he hoped. But after four attempts on his life, each one using a different method, he was understandably leery. There would be little he could do if some methods were tried. Not to mention he really didn't know this city well yet. . . .

He rolled over with a scowl. He was just making up excuses and he knew it.

The police would not be pleased if he tried to leave, though. That was a fact. . . .

But they also wouldn't have the authority to stop him if he insisted.

Muttering to himself, he finally got up again.

Hopefully Lawton was worth this.

xxxx

Radley laid back on one of the beds in the hotel suite he, Kalin, and Scotch had taken out. He stared at the ceiling, his hands laced on his chest. They had just finished a very long telephone conversation explaining things both to the rest of the Bunch and to Yusei and how they were going to stay overnight in the City at least for tonight. Billy would bring a few more of the Bunch in the morning, while Yusei intended to meet them at the practice track.

"Honestly, who'd ever think Scotch's fan-obsessed ways would lead to this?" Billy had snorted.

Radley quite had to agree. Now they were all wrapped up in one of their most bizarre cases yet and even Lawton might be involved. He was almost 99 percent sure of that involvement, but he wasn't sure of the extent of that involvement. Nor was he sure what they would have to go through to find out. Any time their paths crossed with Lawton's, it led to disaster and heartache.

Kalin sank down on the bed too. With two beds in the suite, they would share while Scotch claimed the other. "What a weird day," he grunted.

Radley had to laugh at the understatement. "Only weird?" he quipped.

"Bizarre, insane, ludicrous . . . take your pick." Kalin rubbed a hand over his face.

"It's only going to get stranger tomorrow," Radley said. "Can you imagine how starstruck Scotch is going to be if he actually sees Elsa and Anna at the track?"

"He'll try to chase them down with an autograph book and a camera," Kalin deadpanned. "And probably be caught by the royal guard."

Radley chuckled. "Poor Scotch." He placed his hands behind his head. "Of course, we won't let that happen."

"Can we stop it?" Kalin retorted.

"Oh, we can try." Radley turned onto his side and rested a hand on Kalin's arm. "What do you think has happened to Lawton?"

"I think he's left town," Kalin said. "And that's at best. At worst, he's just waiting for one of the murder plots to succeed so he can collect on the insurance."

"You don't think he's personally responsible?"

Kalin pondered the query and shook his head. "No. I don't think he'd take that risk."

"I kind of agree with you," Radley said. "But when it's Lawton, it just gets really hard to say."

Kalin sighed. He had to concede to that logic.

"If it's not him, though, who could it be?" Radley mused.

"Any one of a number of outraged citizens of Arendelle or viewers of Frozen," Kalin said tiredly.

"This is the first chance we've really had to talk in private," Radley said. "Do you think Hans is lying to us about the control?"

"Yes," Kalin said frankly. "It's ridiculous! Hardly anyone would actually believe something like that!"

"And yet we're some who actually might, given all we've seen," Radley said. "It's true, he certainly could be playing us for fools. In the movie, he is clearly capable of that very thing. But on the other hand, someone with his intelligence surely wouldn't make up such an idiotic story and expect everyone to believe him. He would figure out a better excuse."

"Truth is stranger than fiction, eh?" Kalin grunted.

"It sure seems to be for us," Radley remarked. He sighed. "I don't know what I think, though. Hans seems so completely sincere for most of the movie. His switch to villainy is so jarring. Yet if we're to believe the movie, he really is just that good at lying to everyone. It's chilling. Someone like that is someone to steer clear of."

"And instead, we're trying to help find out who's trying to kill him," Kalin said.

"Not to mention that we've been brought in as special investigators due to knowing Lawton," Radley said. "There's definitely not much likelihood that Lawton Colman isn't Lawton Coulter."

"I know. And that's more than enough reason for concern on everybody's parts," Kalin growled.

"We'll figure it out!" Scotch chirped as he bounded into the room with armfuls of snacks and plopped them into the large bowl on the coffee table.

Radley raised up to look. So did Kalin.

"What did you do, raid the vending machines?" Kalin grunted.

"Well, yeah!" Scotch said. "This stuff is epic!" He tore open a bag of Doritos.

Radley had to laugh.

"So what do you think about Hans' story?" Kalin asked Scotch, even though he was sure he knew what Scotch would say.

"He could be telling the truth!" Scotch said. "I mean, we've gotta consider that possibility, right?!"

"Of course," Radley said with a fond smile.

"Do you even like Hans in the movie?" Kalin wondered.

Scotch shrugged. "I like his voice actor! He seems like a real chill guy. Anyway, I just think it's amazingly epicly awesome that Frozen is real! And I want to help solve this mystery!"

Kalin sighed and laid back down. "Hopefully we really can."

Radley laid down too. He certainly hoped so himself.

xxxx

Hans was more than a little frustrated to have to return to the hotel in defeat. The police officers who had gone with him and trailed at a distance were no doubt just relieved he had given up and gone back, but he was highly displeased. He didn't know what to do or try next, but he walked very purposely into his suite and started to remove his coat.

The sound of a heavy footfall and a body slumping into the woodwork made him jump a mile and spin around with gun drawn, only to stop and stare in shock. "Lawton?!"

His manager was slumped against the doorframe, clutching his wounded chest as he breathed hard and looked at Hans with glassy eyes. Then he fell forward, collapsing on the carpet.

There was no time for wondering how on Earth Lawton had even found him there. Hans ran forward and knelt down, turning Lawton onto his back. The blood was everywhere.

Two police officers suddenly appeared in the doorway. "What happened?!" one exclaimed. "Who is this guy?!"

"My manager!" Hans replied. "He's badly wounded! Call an ambulance!"

The second officer swiftly dialed and spoke to a 911 dispatcher, while the first came in and knelt to give assistance. "I don't get it," he said. "Where did he even come from?!"

"I'm still trying to figure that out myself," Hans admitted. "And how he found me in the first place! No one was supposed to know we'd relocated here! I didn't tell him in my voice messages, just in case he was the one after me."

". . . If he's this other Lawton, could he have been trailing his old enemies?" the officer suggested.

"I'd think he'd want to stay as far away from them as possible," Hans frowned.

A door down the hall opened and Radley and Kalin stood there, with Scotch right behind them. "What's going on?" Radley frowned.

"I went out looking for Lawton," Hans said. "I came back and he staggered into my room and collapsed! It looks like he's been knifed!"

Radley stared in shock. Immediately he hurried across the hall to the open doorway and looked inside. The person laying on the floor was definitely Lawton Coulter. Beyond that, Radley didn't understand any of what was happening.

Kalin strode over and knelt down too. "Lawton!" he called in a commanding voice.

Lawton slowly opened his eyes, registering shock at the familiar voice. He definitely hadn't been trailing Kalin and company.

"What happened?" Kalin demanded. "Tell me!"

". . . Hans," Lawton mumbled. "He really didn't do it. He was telling the truth. Who knew?"

Now Hans was staring in shock. Lawton believed him now? What had happened out there?!

"Did you find who it was that controlled me?!" he asked.

Lawton opened his mouth, for a moment acting like he might speak. But the only thing he managed was a whisper under his breath before he fell still.

Scotch stared. ". . . Is he dead?!"

Hans bent low over him. ". . . I can't feel a heartbeat. . . ."

Radley's stomach twisted. Would he have to go back to Malcolm and report again that Lawton was dead? They had only thought it before, without his body as proof. But now . . .

"Did anyone catch what he said?" Kalin demanded.

"It sounded like 'Raisin,'" Scotch said.

"That doesn't even make sense," Hans retorted. He struggled, pressing on Lawton's chest as he frantically tried to restart his heart.

Radley stood and watched, still stunned by what was unfolding. Lawton was dying . . . or dead . . . after surviving falling into the water from high above on a castle ledge and also later tricking Kalin and the others by pretending to fall off a cliff at the mine. But this wasn't any trick. All the blood testified to that. One well-placed knife had taken him out.

The paramedics were arriving now. Hans looked up, stumbling out of the way to allow them room to take over. He stood, staring down at his blood-covered hands in a sort of daze.

Scotch looked at him worriedly. "Did you care about him?"

"I . . ." Hans wasn't even sure how to answer that. But . . . he wouldn't have been out looking so long when he hadn't had to if there wasn't some level of caring there.

"Yes," he said at last.

"Maybe he'll be okay," Scotch said. "He never really seems to die. . . ."

"Do you think he cared about you?" Kalin bluntly asked.

"He cared about himself and about money," Hans said. "That was all."

Radley sighed. "It sure seemed that way." He flinched as the paddles were brought out and placed on Lawton's chest. The thought of any electric shock, even one meant to help, filled him with terror after what he had been through in the mines. He stepped closer to Kalin.

"He probably never cared about his brother!" Scotch chimed in.

"According to Malcolm, he did once, but he changed." Radley frowned. That was a horrible, haunting change.

The body jerked from the electricity, but there was no indication it had worked. The paramedics tried once, then twice more. Finally their equipment registered a heartbeat.

"We've got him," said the first in relief.

Radley's tense muscles relaxed as the paddles were put away. "It's strange to think that one knife wound could come so close to killing him after everything he's survived when he's tried to hurt us," he remarked.

The paramedic looked up at him. "Oh, this isn't just one knife wound," he said. "There was poison in the wound!"

"Poison?!" Hans exclaimed in disbelief. "Why would anyone go to that much trouble to kill him?!"

"I can think of a lot of reasons," Scotch said.

"Yes, under the name Lawton Coulter," Hans said. "But is this even about that or was he attacked as Lawton Colman?"

At that moment his phone rang. Having cleaned his hands with a tissue from the complimentary tissue box in the room, he quickly answered it. "Hello?"

"Do you get the message yet, Westergaard?" an unfamiliar, raspy voice intoned. "Give back what you have of mine or maybe next time I'll use a stronger dose . . . on that red-haired princess you still care about!"

Hans went stiff. "Who is this?" he demanded. "What are you talking about?! What do I have that's yours?!"

The phone clicked in his ear.