Chapter Three #2
She turned her attention to the row of kennels. Each bore a tag with a name—Sky, Shelby, Darth, Farley and Daisy. “Do they ever have to rescue people?” she asked.
“Sometimes.” He snapped on Farley’s leash. “Let’s go.”
They threaded their way through crowds of skiers at the base of the main lift, past a row of shops and around the side of a hotel, until they reached a large, mostly deserted parking lot.
Connor unclipped the leash, and Farley bounded ahead across the lot.
He raced to a dumpster at the far end and began sniffing around it.
“There’s a fox that likes to visit that dumpster, and Farley is fascinated by it,” Connor said.
“You don’t think he’d hurt it, do you?” Stacy asked.
“He might if he got the chance, but the fox is too fast and smart for that. In any case, he won’t be there this time of day. We’ve only seen him early in the morning. We saw him New Year’s day, in fact.”
Farley sniffed around the dumpster, then suddenly whirled and raced toward them once more. He skidded to a stop at Stacy’s feet and looked up, a goofy grin on his face.
“Good boy!” she said and patted his side. “I think he likes me,” she told Connor.
“He likes everybody.” He looked away and gestured toward a low stucco building. “That’s the munitions magazine.” He moved ahead of her, and Farley hurried to catch up.
With amusement, Stacy noted that dog and owner bore a resemblance. At least, they both had reddish curly hair and melting brown eyes.
“I’ll show you where the thieves broke in,” he said and led the way around the side of the building. They walked along the back until they reached a sheet of plywood screwed on to the wall. “There’s a hole under there, two feet by three feet. Looks like it was cut with a saw.”
“How did they saw through a wall without someone hearing?” She looked around them. There weren’t any buildings close, but a sound that loud would have carried.
“If they did it on New Year’s Eve, there were fireworks, with loud music.”
She studied the plywood and said nothing.
“Has this group you’ve been tracking done something like this before?” he asked. “Stolen explosives?”
“Not explosives, but they tried to break into a research laboratory in upstate New York. They triggered an alarm, and that scared them away, but not before they did some damage.”
“What kind of research?” he asked.
“Biological research. I wasn’t on the team then, so I don’t know a lot of details.”
“That’s all there is to see out here,” he said. “Let’s go inside.”
They walked around to the front of the building, where he unlocked two locks, pushed open the door and flicked on an overhead light. Cardboard boxes were stacked along one side of the single, concrete-floored room, each box marked Danger: Explosives.
“They took the explosives from back here,” Connor said and led her down a narrow aisle between boxes.
At the wall, he turned and squeezed into another narrow space.
“There isn’t supposed to be any space between the boxes and wall here,” he said.
“They were able to pull the boxes right out the hole.”
She studied the void. “So, how many boxes are missing?”
“I think four, but we won’t know for sure until we count.”
They returned to the front of the room. Connor picked up a box and shoved it at her. Surprised, she grasped it, straining against the weight.
“That’s one,” he said. “We’re going to stack everything in the empty space on that side.” He pointed behind her.
“That doesn’t seem very efficient, to move every box,” she said.
“If we move every one, we won’t miss any. And we’ll know right away from the weight of the box if they took anything out and sealed it back up.”
She nodded. “I see your point.” She carried her box to the far wall and set it down, then returned to accept a second box.
They worked quickly. She couldn’t tell if he was really that fit or just showing off. After a while, Farley laid down on a pile of packing blankets and fell asleep. Arms aching, Stacy consoled herself that she wouldn’t need to hit the gym today. Maybe not all week.
“How did you end up with the FBI?” Connor asked when they were halfway through the stacks of boxes.
“I was recruited in college,” she said. No need to mention that she had already decided to apply to the Bureau when they showed up at a campus job fair.
“Were you studying law enforcement?”
“No, I was an accounting major.”
He laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“I guess you really can count.”
“I can add, subtract and divide too.” She added another box to the growing stack. Connor was ticking off each box on a sheet on a clipboard.
“How does that apply to working for the FBI?” he asked.
“Accountants are generally methodical and detail-oriented.”
“Do you like the work?”
“I do.” She admired the way his shoulders looked as he hefted another box. “How did you end up as a ski patroller?”
“I was looking for a job. I like to ski.”
“But how did you end up in charge of explosives?”
“Handling explosives was part of my job in the army. The resort was looking for someone with my experience, and they gave preference to veterans. It seemed like a good fit.”
“And has it been a good fit?”
“Yeah. It has.” He paused. She was gratified to see that he was breathing hard, his face flushed from exertion.
“Three years ago, I had a chance to be part of the avalanche dog program. I bought Farley from a breeder who specializes in search and rescue dogs and started training him. I’d never get to do something like that if I had a regular desk job. ”
She looked at the remaining boxes of explosives. “Tell me about this stuff. What is it? What does it do?”
He tapped one of the boxes. “These contain two-pound cylinders of an explosive called Pentex. It’s a chemical compound that acts like nitroglycerine.
It’s used a lot in mining. And for avalanche control.
The explosive is very stable under most conditions, and it works even when wet—useful when you’re dealing with snow.
To use it, you have to install a detonator—a blasting cap—and a fuse.
Light the fuse and throw the cylinder. Boom!
Hit the right place, and you can clear a dangerous buildup of snow with one or two charges.
” He hefted another box. “We have almost a hundred potential slide paths inbounds here at SkyCrest, so during a big storm, we can go through a lot of these.”
She accepted the box. “But whoever stole this would need the blasting caps and fuses, too.”
“We’ll count those, too,” he said. “I’m betting we find out at least one box is missing.”
In the end, there were four boxes of cast boosters and one box of detonator assemblies that couldn’t be accounted for. “They could do a lot of damage with all of that,” he said. “But I don’t get how blowing up something will stop the resort’s expansion plans.”
“The people we’ve been tracking don’t care about Blaine Mountain or the wilderness,” she said.
“They thrive on destruction for destruction’s sake, hiding behind the idea of a just cause.
It’s how they get otherwise innocent people to do their dirty work.
They’ll think of some way to sell the explosions as furthering their cause.
They’ve had a lot of experience manipulating people. ”
“So how are you going to find out what their plans are and stop them?” he asked.
“I’m going to a meeting of the local protesters tonight,” she said. “Want to come?”
He shook his head. “I don’t care to get near those folks. Not to mention I don’t think Doug would be too happy if the head of ski patrol was seen fraternizing with the enemy.”
“You’re entitled to do what you want on your own time. Besides, it would be good for my cover to have you along. I can tell Doug it’s important for my investigation.”
“Guess you’ll have to handle your cover without me for window dressing.”
She winced at the bitterness behind his words. “I didn’t mean it that way,” she said. “We could have a good time, hanging out.”
“Not a good idea.” His eyes met hers, and she felt the heat of his gaze all the way to her toes. “After all, you made it clear you’re not going to be around for long. I’m a man who likes to finish what he’s started.”