The Haviland Touch by Kay Hooper

Author:Kay Hooper
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin USA, Inc.

SPENCER HAD NEVER been to Austria and, knowing that she probably wouldn’t have time to do any sightseeing, tried to see as much of Innsbruck as possible from the taxi as it conveyed them from the airport to their hotel. She immediately felt an affinity for the valley city, particularly the older sections with their narrow streets and tall Gothic buildings, and she loved the spectacular view of mountains that ringed the city.

Drew had told the driver where to take them—his German was as fluent as his French—and told Spencer that he’d chosen an inn for them in the section of the city nearest the area of mountains where they hoped to find the cross.

“You’ve been here before,” she noted.

“A few times. I have at least a couple of contacts in the city, so we may be able to get some information.”

Spencer looked at him curiously. “Wouldn’t whoever’s after the cross be cautious? I mean, how could your contacts know anything about it?”

Drew smiled and took one of her hands. He’d been touching her almost constantly since the interlude on the jet, and if the touches seemed casual and undemanding Spencer was still highly aware of them. “People who deal in antiquities,” he said, “or even have knowledge of them are very adept at reading signs. They notice certain questions or actions, or an unusual preoccupation, and take note. After all, it could be something they’d be smart to go after themselves.”

“Innsbruck is a big city,” she commented, still looking at him.

“Yes, but the community of people interested in antiquities is relatively small, even worldwide. Most of us know each other, certainly by name and usually by sight. Aside from that, to find something hidden in the mountains, whoever’s after the cross—including us—will need certain supplies and equipment the tourists don’t bother with, and that’s a signal which an expert would read quite accurately.”

Spencer was fascinated “You mean that if I had come here alone and didn’t ask a single question of anybody, but just rented a horse and bought supplies—?”

He answered dryly, “At least two people that I know of in Innsbruck would hear of it within an hour. And once your name was known—which would be fairly quickly—there would be a dozen or so people across Europe speculating frantically that you were in search of the cross.”

“I hadn’t realized so many people knew about Dad’s obsession,” she mumbled somewhat dazedly.

“He hasn’t exactly kept it a secret during the last fifty years,” Drew reminded her. “Even the collectors who didn’t believe it existed were interested, not only because of intrinsic and historical value, but because there are so few disputed relics left to find. Collectors want one-of-a-kind objects, Spencer, and the more elusive they are, the greater their value.”

He should know, she thought, and said, “You’re a collector.”

“I enjoy the hunt as much as the find,” he responded lightly.

Spencer didn’t say anything else on the subject, because they arrived at the inn. It was a beautiful old building, Renaissance in style, with such a gracious, Old World atmosphere that Spencer was instantly enchanted.

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