Chapter 50
BLAKE
Silver Pines rises from the mountainside.
A monument made of timber and stone, looking more like something plucked from Colorado than the little Wyoming town I remember.
Snow clings to every roofline, smoke curls from massive stone chimneys, and strings of warm white light trace the covered walkways leading toward the entrance.
Hundreds of people mill around the plaza.
Children zip through the crowd carrying helmets bigger than their heads while skiers click awkwardly across the packed snow in rental boots.
Somewhere nearby, a group roasts chestnuts over an outdoor firepit, the sweet smell mingling with pine and woodsmoke.
The crowd gradually drifts toward the temporary stage erected in front of the resort’s main entrance.
Evergreen garlands wrap around the wooden railing, and an oversized red ribbon stretched across the stone walkway leading into the lodge.
Newscasters murmur into microphones as their camera people jockey for a position.
Walker scans the people from our spot to the side of the stage. He’s working security for the event, being the head of the police department. Levi and Santiago are here as well, along with Tessa and Ridge.
I got to tag along because I argued that this isn’t a crime scene. It’s a town event.
“Stay close,” Walker demands.
“I am close.”
He lifts a single brow. “You wandered off for a cinnamon roll ten minutes ago.”
I roll my eyes. “I wandered less than five feet.”
“You still wandered.”
The unamused expression on my face doesn’t sway him. Regardless, I slip my hand into the crook of his arm, which seems to satisfy him.
A burst of applause ripples through the crowd as a distinguished man in his early sixties steps onto the stage.
His silver hair is neatly combed beneath a black Stetson, and his tailored charcoal coat looks far too expensive for Wyoming winters.
He smiles with practiced ease, the kind that says he’s spent years shaking hands and posing for photographs.
Neil Redford.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Neil begins, his voice booming through the speakers. “Thank you for joining us today.”
The applause from the crowd dies down.
“For generations, Evergreen Falls has been a place people drove through on their way to a different destination. My hope is that Silver Pines gives folks a reason to stop, to stay, and to experience everything our little town has to offer.”
The crowd erupts into applause again.
Neil continues his speech, talking about new jobs, local businesses, and other opportunities the resort will bring.
I glance toward Martha, who is standing with Gus near the front with a few other business owners, and she’s positively glowing.
“So without further ado,” Neil says, reaching the end of his speech. He accepts a pair of ceremonial scissors from one of the organizers. “Welcome to Silver Pines Mountain Resort.”
The crowd cheers even louder than before as the scissors slice cleanly through the bright red ribbon.
Camera flashes burst like small fireworks. People surge forward toward the entrance, eager to be among the first inside.
Walker doesn’t move, which means I don’t move either. He watches the crowd instead.
The sea of winter coats bombards the plaza as people funnel through the open doors. Volunteers hand out trail maps while hotel employees welcome guests with steaming cups of hot chocolate.
Walker shifts beside me, his gaze sweeping methodically from face to face, disregarding the celebration.
His radio crackles on his shoulder.
“Walk.”
Without taking his eyes off the crowd, he presses the button on the side. “Go ahead, Jo.”
“We just got a tip of a suspicious man dressed in black.”
Walker lets out a slow breath through his nose. “Clothing isn’t suspicious, Jo.”
“The caller said he smells like gasoline,” Jolene continues. “He’s carrying a large duffel bag around with him and was last seen heading inside.”
Walker’s posture changes subtly. Every muscle in his body goes rigid. His hand drops to the radio again. “Tessa. Ridge.”
“Go ahead,” Tessa answers immediately.
“Circle the south side of the lobby. Approach from opposite directions,” Walker commands.
“Copy.”
“Levi. Santi.”
Levi’s voice comes through the speaker. “We’re here.”
“Take the west corridor. Check the conference rooms and ski lockers.”
“On it.”
Walker finally looks at me. “You—”
“If you tell me to stay here, I’m going to scream,” I warn.
His jaw flexes. “This isn’t the time, Baby Girl.”
I shoot him a glare. “If you didn’t think it was safe, why’d you bring me?”
Walker raises his brows. “Because I couldn’t leave you at home either.”
I hate that he makes sense.
Walker studies me for a second, and I keep my face stern. When he comes to a decision, he lets out a harsh breath.
“Fine. Come on.”
Victory.
“You stay right on my six.”
“I can do that.” I nod.
“Hand on my belt the entire time.”
“Aye aye, captain,” I say, giving him a salute.
His voice deepens. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
His expression says he doesn’t believe me, but I’m not leaving him with much of a choice.
Walker turns toward the resort entrance, reaching back for my hand and placing it on his belt.
“Let’s move.”
Walker pushes through the revolving doors first, his hand hovering near the grip of his holstered gun. I do as he instructed, keeping my hand on his belt.
Warmth rushes over me as we step inside, carrying with it the scent of cedar, fresh coffee, and cinnamon. The soaring lobby, which looked so peaceful from the outside, is now packed shoulder to shoulder with tourists checking into the hotel and hauling skis toward the rental counter.
Chatter bounces off the vaulted ceiling, blending into a constant roar that makes it impossible to focus on any one voice.
If someone wanted to disappear, this would be the place to do it.
Walker moves us through the space as he checks everything.
The balcony, the staircase, people, hands, bags.
The radio comes alive again with Levi’s voice. “West corridor clear.”
Santiago next. “Conference rooms clear.”
Ridge chimes in as well. “South entrance clear.”
Walker answers without looking away from the crowd. “Keep moving.”
The tension in Walker’s body, the clipped instructions, and the procedural sweep has the seriousness of the situation settling into my bones.
My heart starts to pound.
Walker’s breathing slows.
I don’t know if his calm makes this all better or worse.
“Walk,” Tessa radios in. “I have a possible visual.”
“Location,” Walker replies.
“Main lobby. North side. Standing beneath the chandelier.”
Walker’s hand reaches back for me, landing on my wrist as if he’s making sure my grip is secure as he moves faster through the crowd.
“Converge on Tessa’s location,” Walker demands.
Everyone around us suddenly feels six feet tall. Puffy coats, wool hats, ski helmets all seem to be closing in on us.
I stretch onto my toes, trying to see above everyone’s heads, but Walker’s broad shoulders block my view.
Tessa gives the person’s description. “Male approximately five-ten. Black jacket, gray beanie, carrying a large black duffel.”
Walker’s hand settles on his pistol, not yet drawing the weapon. He stops and takes a deep breath, speaking quietly into his radio. “Hold positions.”
My stomach twists into knots.
The people around us continue on, laughing, sipping warm drinks, and excitedly waiting in line, completely oblivious to the potential danger.
I lean to the side, trying to get my own visual.
My eyes snag on Abbott.
I didn’t know that he skis.
A tear rolls down his cheek as he blinks.
My lips purse as I attempt to understand what’s wrong. He doesn’t seem to be with anyone.
I follow Abbott’s line of sight, turning my head.
Neil Redford stands a few feet away, shaking hands with guests and laughing.
Did Neil say something to him?
My head cocks to the side. “What the—”
A scream reverberates above the chatter.
“He has a gun!”
A deafening crack tears through the lobby.
Chaos ensues. People run in every direction. Glass shatters. Parents grab their children and run for cover. Furniture gets knocked around.
Walker whips around, shoving me behind a nearby stone pillar with one arm. “Stay down!”
Walker runs out of view.
“Tessa!”
“Drop the gun!”
“On your knees!”
I peek around the pillar to make sure Levi, Santiago, and Walker are okay.
Santiago shoves people so they’re covered.
Another crack.
Walker sprints forward.
Levi tackles someone to the ground.
“Walk!”
My head turns toward the shout.
Tessa sits against a wall. One hand pressed to her abdomen.
My feet are moving before my brain catches up. “Tessa!”
I skid to a stop in front of her and drop to the ground. “Tessa, look at me.”
Tessa’s chest moves rapidly as she struggles for air. I move her hand so I can look at the damage.
A bullet is lodged in her bulletproof vest.
“It caught the plate,” I inform her.
“I’m okay.” Tessa winces. “Mostly.”
Walker lands on his knees next to me. His hands are shaking.
“Talk to me.”
I’m not sure if he means Tessa or me, but I answer him anyway. “No blood. Her vest caught the bullet.”
Walker lets out a breath, his shoulder relaxing.
Tessa coughs. “Damn, that hurt like a bitch.”
A laugh bubbles up in my throat, and I’m unable to hold it in. Walker joins me, but when Tessa lets out a laugh, she flinches from the pain.
EMTs rush in, arriving quickly, having been on standby for the grand opening.
I move to make room, but Tessa catches my wrist. “Hey.”
Turning back to her, I place my hand on hers.
“Take care of him.”
My face scrunches in confusion, and Tessa nods to Walker, who is helping Santiago and Levi with the suspect.
“He acts tough.” Tessa flashes me a painful grin. “He’s not.”
Tessa releases me, and I finally step back as the EMTs work on her.
Unsure of where to go, I awkwardly shift on my feet. I know my guys don’t want me near the shooter, and the EMTs need space. It’s not like there’s a good place to sit, either.
I shuffle to the side and choose to hold up the wall.
The guys get the suspect cuffed and haul him to his feet.
My breath catches.
Abbott?