Chapter Six #2
“Our new friend here has just shared that ski patrol at SkyCrest is understaffed.” Shane nodded at Connor, who looked decidedly uncomfortable. “More crowds on a holiday weekend will mean more accidents. Maybe too many for patrol to handle comfortably.”
“We have extra staff on holidays,” Connor said. “We’ll handle everything.”
“Not if there are more accidents than usual,” Shane said.
“What are you proposing?” George spoke up. “Are we going to booby-trap the runs or something?”
A murmur rose from the crowd. Shane held up his hands. “I’m not suggesting anything illegal,” he said. “I don’t want to see anyone unnecessarily hurt.”
The word unnecessarily had Stacy on high alert.
The crowd calmed. Shane studied them. He had intense blue eyes, and a charisma Stacy could feel.
“What if everyone here tonight also decided to ski that weekend?” he asked after a long pause.
“And not just those of you here. I’ve put the word out all over the state, inviting others to join us here at the ranch that weekend, to help protest this taking of public land away from the public. ”
A cheer rose from some in the crowd. Shane smiled.
“So the plan is just to have a lot of people around, criticizing the resort?” someone in the crowd asked.
“I’m suggesting people deliberately seek out the most crowded runs,” Shane said. “Maybe we ski a little slower than usual or stop more often or lose our balance getting off the chairlift.”
“We impede traffic, you mean?” someone asked.
“Exactly. And if anyone says anything or anyone collides with us, we complain loudly about the resort not having enough staff. They can’t handle the crowds.
They can’t take care of the terrain they already have.
Adding more is irresponsible. They’re not interested in their guests. They’re merely greedy.”
“You know, it could work,” someone behind Stacy said.
“Might be fun,” added someone else.
“Sounds dangerous,” said a third person.
“It does sound dangerous,” Stacy muttered. George gently squeezed her arm, and she shot him an annoyed look.
“No one needs to do anything they feel uncomfortable with,” Shane said.
“If you don’t want to ski that weekend, think about joining us in the village square for another peaceful protest on Sunday afternoon.
We’ve got some local musicians who have agreed to play, and it will be a chance to talk to people and explain to them our point of view about the proposed expansion.
All nice and friendly.” He smiled. “That’s all I have to say tonight.
We’ll have another meeting before MLK weekend.
In the meantime, think about what I’ve said and tell your friends to join us.
We can save Blaine Mountain for everyone to enjoy. ”
Voices rose in agreement, then the group began to break up, people making their way back to their cars.
“I want to talk to Shane some more,” Stacy said and moved toward the organizer.
Shane looked up at her approach. “You’re just the people I wanted to speak with,” he said.
Shane’s words indicated he wanted to talk to all three of them, but he looked right at Connor when he spoke.
Connor met his gaze with a steady look of his own. Odd, he wasn’t as nervous about this charade as he had expected to be. Maybe because a lot of what he had said reflected his true feelings. He still didn’t advocate violence, but he didn’t think the resort expansion was a great idea.
“You seemed pretty serious about your dislike of SkyCrest,” Shane said.
Maybe he had laid on the criticism of the resort too thickly. He’d only been trying play the part of the keen revolutionary. Time to dial back a little. “I love the ski area,” he said. “But I don’t necessarily like the way the corporation handles things.” All true.
“I’m with you there,” Shane said. “We don’t want to harm SkyCrest. It’s an asset to the area.
It brings in lots of jobs. But the resort honchos have gotten too arrogant.
They think they make or break the town, and that’s not right.
The people want to take back what’s theirs and remind SkyCrest that it’s locals who made them what they are today. ”
“How are you going to do that?” Stacy asked. “Are protests and rallies enough to sway corporate opinion?”
“We have something special in mind for MLK weekend,” Shane said.
“Do you mean the disruptions on the ski runs?” George asked. “That is certainly going to snarl things up for skiers.”
“Something in addition to that,” Shane said. “Something to drive home our point about the expansion plans not being safe for visitors.” He returned his attention to Connor. “How long have you been with ski patrol?”
“Six years.”
“So you’ve done a lot of avalanche mitigation?”
The fine hairs on the back of Connor’s neck rose. “Yes.”
Shane stared at him, expression intent. “Then you can help us out.”
“Help you how?” Connor asked.
Shane looked around. “I’ll fill you in more later. Now isn’t the right time.” He clapped Connor on the shoulder. “I’ll be in touch.”
He started to move away, but Connor caught hold of his arm. “Does this have anything to do with the explosives that were taken from ski patrol?” he asked.
Shane went rigid. “What do you know about that?”
“I’m the one who found out they were missing,” Connor said.
Shane shook his head. “I can’t say I know anything about that.”
“Then what is this special thing you want help with?” Connor asked. “And why does it matter that I’ve done avalanche mitigation?”
“You wouldn’t have to do anything yourself,” Shane said. “We just need an expert consultant.”
“I can’t commit until I know what, exactly, you want from me,” Connor said.
“Sure. Sure.” Shane pulled out his phone. “Give me your number, and I’ll get in touch to explain.”
Connor hesitated. Did he really want this man knowing his phone number?
“Silly. He can never remember his own phone number.” Stacy slipped her hand in the crook of his arm and rattled off Connor’s number.
Shane typed in the digits, then pocketed the phone. “Great. I’ll talk to you later.” He lifted a hand in a gesture of farewell, then hurried away.
Connor took one step after him, but Stacy tugged him back toward the road. “Let’s go,” she said.
This time, Connor ended up in the front passenger seat with George in the back. No one said anything until they were on the main road leading back toward the resort. “That was certainly interesting,” Stacy said.
“How about criminal?” Connor asked. “Or even terrifying. He practically admitted he needed me to help with those explosives.”
“He implied a lot, but he didn’t admit anything,” George said.
“He’s certainly interested in you,” Stacy said. “I was right to think you would be the perfect way to get close to these people.”
“Why can’t you arrest him now?” Connor asked. “Before he does something to hurt people. I mean, the whole plot to impede skiers during one of the busiest weekends of the season ought to be enough to file criminal charges. People could be seriously hurt, even killed, by such a reckless plan.”
“He was careful not to give specific instructions,” Stacy said. “And he emphasized they don’t want to hurt anyone. And asking about your work experience is a long way from saying he has the explosives or that he wants to use them.”
“He said he couldn’t say anything about the theft of those cast boosters,” Connor said. “That’s not the same as being surprised or alarmed by the theft. Maybe he can’t say because doing so could land him in jail.”
“It definitely sounds like they’re aiming to make a big splash for MLK weekend,” Stacy said.
“Doesn’t he realize he’s going to be the prime suspect in anything that goes wrong?” Connor asked.
“We can suspect people all day long,” Stacy said. “But without proof that will stand up in a court of law, we can’t do anything to stop them. Maybe Shane thinks he’s so clever he won’t leave any evidence behind.”
“Or maybe his belief that he’s right and the resort is wrong overrides everything else,” George said.
“I don’t really care what he believes or doesn’t believe,” Stacy said. “We’ve got to find out his plans and put a stop to them.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem with Shane so keen to enlist Connor.” George leaned forward from the back seat. “All you have to do is agree to a meeting when Shane calls. We’ll wire you up, get the conversation on tape, and we’ll know everything.”
“Dad, how long were you with the Bureau?” Stacy asked.
“Thirty years, eight months and thirteen days,” George said.
“In all that time, did you ever know a case to be resolved that easily?” she asked.
“No. And I didn’t say this one would be easy, either. That’s what we can hope will happen, but in reality, when Connor meets with Shane, you and I will be lurking somewhere nearby, listening in and ready to intervene if necessary.”
“Who says I’m even going to meet with this guy?” Connor asked. “I don’t want anything to do with a possible terrorist. I’m not the federal agent here. I’m not even a retired federal agent.”
“You’re the one with the expertise Shane wants,” Stacy said. “You’re the one he wants to talk to. If you didn’t plan to help me, why did you even come tonight? And don’t give me that throwaway line about watching me argue with Dad.”
“Stacy and I don’t argue,” George said. “She may object to what she sees as interference, but she eventually realizes I’m her best ally in any situation.”
“In this situation, Connor is my best ally,” Stacy said.
“I’m a ski patroller,” Connor said. “I just want to do that job and leave the skullduggery to other people.”
“If you don’t help us, a lot of people might end up hurt or killed,” Stacy said.
“It’s your job to stop them,” he said. “I reported the theft of the explosives—the rest is up to you.”
“Shane already knows who you are and what you do,” George said. “If you don’t help him, he might decide to target you.”
Connor turned to scowl at him. “Why would he?”
“Because he’s already said enough to make you suspicious. He was pretty sure he could convert you to the cause or he wouldn’t have said that much.”
Connor folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t know how he would have gotten that idea.”
“Probably from your little speech about your dislike of corporate politics,” Stacy said. “You made a believer out of me.”
“I never should have come here tonight,” Connor said.
“But you did,” she said. “And I know you want to stop these people from harming others. If Shane contacts you, at least agree to meet with him. I’m not asking you to set bombs or to cooperate with his plan in any way.”
She was right. Backing out now, when he had the potential to at least find out what Shane and his cohorts were up to, smacked of cowardice. “I’ll agree to meet with him,” he said. “But you’re coming with me.”
“Good idea,” George said before Stacy could answer. “Stacy is the girlfriend who recruited you to the cause in the first place. I’ll come, too.”
“No, Dad. Absolutely not.”
“Hey, Shane has already met me,” George said. “He’ll think it odd if I don’t butt in again. I can play the trigger-happy old guy. You two can be cautious, but I’m all for full speed ahead.” He punched his fist in the air.
Connor could practically feel the irritation rolling off of Stacy in waves.
Her whole body was rigid, her knuckles pale in the dashboard lights as she gripped the steering wheel.
He sensed another futile argument rising.
“Let’s wait and see if Shane even contacts me,” he said. “Maybe he’ll change his mind.”
“I doubt it,” Stacy said. “In the meantime, I need to find out more about Shane. Why wouldn’t he tell me his last name, for one thing?”
“We can run his prints,” George said. “That should tell us if he has a record.”
“Right,” Stacy said. “I’ll just ask him to let me ink him for a fingerprint card.”
“You don’t have to.” George thrust something between the seats—a beer bottle in a plastic zipper bag. “I grabbed this off the table when Shane’s back was turned,” he said. “He was drinking out of it.”
“Is that even legal?” Connor asked.
“Trash is abandoned property,” George said. “Fair game for pulling fingerprints, DNA, whatever else we can derive from it.”
“Um, great, Dad,” Stacy said. “I’ll get that right off to the lab.”
“You’re welcome.” George sat back once more. “I told you we make a great team. You’ve got youth and the most up-to-date training on your side, but there’s nothing like experience and old-fashioned cunning to really get things done.”
The triumph in the old man’s voice almost made Connor smile. He understood Stacy’s annoyance at her father’s interference, but you had to admire the man. And Connor wouldn’t bet on the side of anyone who tried to cross him.