Chapter Seven
“Where’s Stacy this morning?” Nina’s voice rang out as Connor unlocked the door to ski patrol headquarters midmorning on Saturday.
“I have no idea.” He pushed open the door and flicked on the light.
Nina followed him inside. “How long is she in town for?” she asked.
Connor opened Farley’s kennel, and the dog stepped out and arched his back in a stretch. “I don’t know that, either.”
“I thought you two were friends.”
“We are. But I don’t keep track of her comings and goings.”
“I thought I saw her yesterday afternoon with a good-looking older guy.” Nina smirked. “Maybe you’ve got some competition.”
“That was probably her dad. He’s in town, too. And Stacy is just a friend. She can hang out with whoever she likes.”
Nina slid one hip onto the corner of his desk. “In that case, I have a friend I could fix you up with.”
“Not interested.”
“Why not? She’s really cute. And smart.”
He met her teasing look with a scowl. “How would you feel if I pestered you about your personal life and offered to fix you up?”
“I’d think you cared.” She laughed. “Okay, I get it. I’ll back off. Just call me a romantic.”
“Who, as far as I know, is very much single.”
“I’m living vicariously through my happily involved friends. They give me hope that maybe true love is possible.”
If someone like Nina—a famous athlete and model—couldn’t find “true love,” that didn’t leave much hope for the ordinary rest of the population. “Right now, all I’m worried about is turning in the monthly report,” he said.
“I guess that’s my cue to get back to work.” She slid off the desk, rubbed Farley behind the ears and left.
Connor sat back and sighed. In spite of his protests that he didn’t care where Stacy was right now, he couldn’t get her out of his thoughts. What was she up to? Had she found out anything more about the protest group’s plans? Who was Shane, and what did he want from Connor?
A knock on the door distracted him, and he looked up to see Doug, in ski jacket and helmet. “Let’s take in a few runs together,” the resort manager said.
“Farley needs some exercise,” Connor said.
“Bring him, too.”
Connor locked up, retrieved his skis, and they headed for the ski lift.
“I needed to get out of the office for a while,” Doug said when they were on the lift.
“Everything okay?” Connor asked. He scanned the runs spread out below them, alert for any sign of trouble.
“You wouldn’t believe the hoops we have to jump through with this expansion request. The Forest Service wants a new form or document or study every day, and now the feds have come in with this talk of possible terrorists. Corporate is riding me hard to make it all go away.”
And that’s why they pay you the big bucks, Connor thought. “Sounds intense,” he said.
“Has Stacy learned anything more about the stolen explosives?” Doug asked.
“She hasn’t said anything to me.”
“You two have been spending a lot of time together.”
“You’ve been keeping track?”
“Of her. Not you. You know, the resort comped her a place at CrestView Condos. A premium unit. The thinking was she would be impressed enough to keep us more in the loop. I need her to tell me this is all resolved so I can get corporate off my back. What is taking her so long? It’s six days since the theft, and as far as I know, she hasn’t even identified a suspect. ”
Connor thought of Shane. “I don’t know,” he said. “Why don’t you ask her?”
Doug looked away. “I have. She won’t tell me anything.”
“I don’t think that’s unusual for law enforcement. You probably won’t know anything about her investigation until it’s over. None of us will.”
“Keep me posted.”
I’m not your spy. But again, discretion curbed his tongue. “I’m sure if there’s anything you need to know, Stacy will tell you.”
They reached the top of the lift just as Doug’s phone rang. He swore under his breath. “I have to take this,” he said and stopped to one side of the lift. “Go on without me.”
“Come on, Farley.” The dog raced alongside as Connor cut down one side of an ungroomed blue run named Wildcat.
Fewer people braved the thick, choppy snow here, but it was also the kind of run where less experienced skiers could get into trouble.
Connor had the run to himself right now and let Farley race ahead, stretching out his legs after a morning in the kennel.
He called the dog back to him when Wildcat intersected a more popular, groomed run. He slowed and steered through crowds of skiers.
“It’s Farley!” a teenage girl called and waved.
The dog glanced over to her but kept pace with Connor.
“Connor! Wait up!”
He slid to a stop and looked around to see George skiing toward him.
“Good to see you,” the older man said. He wore black pants, a yellow-and-black jacket and a black helmet with a single SkyCrest sticker on the back. “Hello, Farley.” He bent to pat the dog.
“Hello, George.” Connor looked past the older man, expecting to see Stacy.
“I’m on my own for now,” George said. “Stacy wanted me out of her hair.” He straightened. “Am I interrupting your work?”
“I’m just checking out a few runs, seeing if anyone needs help. And letting Farley get some exercise. You can ski with me if you like.”
“That would be great. Thanks.”
They made their way down the run, past groups of people having fun.
No signs of distress or trouble. The sun shone brightly, warming Connor’s face in spite of the brisk temperatures.
This was how every day should be but too often wasn’t.
At the bottom, Connor motioned for George to follow him to the head of the lift line.
On the chair, George leaned back. “What a gorgeous day,” he said, looking out at the expanse of white snow and blue, blue sky. “You are living the life. I should have done something like this when I was younger.”
Farley settled between them, his head in Connor’s lap. “You’d rather be a ski bum than a federal agent?” Connor asked.
“Yeah, well, maybe not.” George grinned. “I wanted excitement, travel, to make a difference.”
“And the FBI offered that?”
“Sometimes. But what’s exciting when you’re young can become routine drudgery when you start raising a family.
All that travel was tough when Stacy was little.
I missed a lot of milestones. I regret that.
I didn’t really get to know her as a person until her mother and I divorced when she was fourteen.
I didn’t know what I was getting into, taking on a teenager full time, but it was worth it. ”
“And she followed in your footsteps,” Connor said. “That has to be flattering.”
“Either that, or she was trying to show me up. I’ve never been sure.” George glanced at him. “I suppose she complained to you about me butting in where I’m not wanted right now.”
“I’m smart enough not to answer that question.”
George chuckled. “It’s not that I don’t trust her to do her job. I know she’s a good and capable agent. But she doesn’t have my experience, and they should never have sent her out here alone.”
“Maybe they don’t think there’s real danger.”
“Stolen explosives sound pretty dangerous to me.”
“Yeah. Me, too. I’d a feel a lot better if we could recover them.”
“I got a bad vibe at that meeting last night,” George said.
“I guess I don’t have your instincts,” Connor said. “Everyone I met seemed pretty ordinary. Do you really think some of those people are terrorists?”
“You’d be surprised how innocent dangerous people can appear. The Unabomber looked like a harmless old man to his neighbors.” George chuckled. “Some people would probably say the same about me.”
“Nina Rose thinks you’re good-looking,” Connor said.
“The ski racer?”
“And ski patroller.”
“No kidding? She works for you?”
“She does.”
George grinned. “I’ll have to be sure to thank her.”
“I hope I’m around to watch when you do.”
They exited the lift. “One more run, and I have to get back to the office,” Connor said.
“I need to take a break, too,” George said. “Maybe I’ll see if I can find Stacy.”
But at the bottom of the run, Stacy was waiting for them. “What are you two doing together?” she asked when they met up in front of ski patrol headquarters.
“We’re enjoying the beautiful day,” George said. “What are you up to?”
“I sent off the bottle you snagged for testing. I labeled it Priority, but you know it will be days before we get any results.”
“Did you find out anything about Shane?” Connor asked.
“His full name is Shane Greer. He owns a ranch in the area. Nothing particularly large or famous. Apparently, his family has been in the area for generations. The original ranch was sold a decade ago, and Shane was able to buy back a portion of it last year. He has no criminal record that I could find, but if they pull prints from that bottle we might learn something different.”
“That’s a good morning’s work,” George said. “Not that I expected anything less.”
“Dad, I need to talk to Connor. Alone.”
“Never say I can’t take a hint.” He shouldered his skis. “I’ll see you later, Connor.” He strode off across the plaza, never looking back.
Connor turned to unlock the door, and Stacy moved in closer. “What did Dad say to you?” she asked.
“He said he was trying to stay out of your way today.”
“No. I mean, what is he doing here? In Colorado? Does he think I’m that incompetent?”
“He said you were a good and capable agent.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. No poker face for her. “Then why is he here?”
“He thinks your superiors are underestimating the danger.” He pushed open the door and shooed Farley inside but didn’t follow right away. “And he regrets not being around more when you were growing up.”
“He told you that?”
“He did. And I think he just misses you in general. And maybe he misses the excitement of being an agent working a case.”
“This isn’t his case to work.”
“He knows that. But it couldn’t hurt to have someone with his experience on your side.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Did he pay you to say that?”