Chapter Eight #2
“Maybe those are his true sentiments,” she said. “Or maybe he’s good at telling convincing stories.” She stared out the windshield at the clear black sky, stars like pinholes of light. “The fireworks could be intended as a distraction for something bigger.”
“That’s what happened New Year’s Eve,” Connor said. “Someone probably used the commotion from the fireworks to cover up the noise of breaking into the munitions magazine.”
“Right. So while the fireworks are going off, Shane and whoever he recruits could be blowing up something else.”
“What else?” Connor asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Something big and expensive that would distract the resort from pursuing the new development?”
“How are we going to find out and stop it?” he asked.
She liked the way he said we. As if he really was invested in helping her now. “I’m going to keep digging,” she said. “You can talk to people, too. Find out if anyone has seen or heard anything suspicious.”
“I will. But MLK weekend isn’t that far off,” he said. “We don’t have much time.”
“It will be enough,” she said. “It will have to be.”
“I’ve heard some rumors that some of those who are opposed to the ski area’s expansion may increase vandalism to resort property,” Connor told his patrol crew the following Monday morning.
He had been off Sunday and had spent much of the day thinking about the meeting with Shane, about the stolen cast boosters and about Stacy.
He liked remembering the way she had felt in his arms on the dance floor and how he could forget everything else when he was talking with her.
More than once he had thought about trying to get in touch with her but had hesitated.
She was here to work and might resent his interference.
“I’m asking you all to be extra vigilant. If you see anyone in an area where they aren’t supposed to be or messing around with ski resort equipment, be sure you get their name and let them know they’re at risk of being banned.”
“Who told you there was more vandalism planned?” Anders asked. He sat with his long legs stretched in front of him, Darth sprawled beneath him.
“Doug talked to me about it,” Connor said. This was close enough to the truth he could say it with a straight face.
“We catch people all the time where they aren’t supposed to be,” Raz said. “They’re always ducking ropes to ski in untracked snow or messing around closed lifts. And you remember last month, when I caught that guy trying to pry the window on the number four patrol shack.”
“He was trying to get the phone he had dropped and someone had turned in,” Lily said. “It was locked in the shack.”
“It was. But that didn’t give him the right to break in,” Raz said.
“Just keep your eyes and ears open,” Connor said.
Lily was the last to leave after the meeting ended. She sidled up to his desk. “Everything okay with you?” she asked.
“I’m fine.” Or as fine as anyone could be, knowing someone who was probably up to no good was out there with a bunch of powerful explosives at their disposal.
“You just seem distracted.”
“This job does that to a person. Scott could probably tell you all about it.”
She smiled at the mention of her partner, Scott Linden, former head of ski patrol. “You’re doing a good job,” she said. “You’re much better tempered than Scott was.”
He laughed. “I won’t tell him you said that.”
“Oh. He already knows what I think.” She shrugged. “I’m not one to hide my feelings.”
How do you do that? he wondered after Lily had left.
How do you lay out every emotion for possible ridicule or embarrassment?
Children could do it, but figuring out what most adults were thinking and feeling was like chipping away at a marble block.
Sometimes even he didn’t know what his real emotions were.
“Got a minute?”
Connor looked up to see Stacy leaning in the door of patrol headquarters. His heart did a disconcerting flutter as she moved toward him. He wasn’t unhappy to see her, but she always made him feel off-balance. Not quite himself.
“What’s up?” he asked, then winced at how lame that sounded.
“Do you have any plans for tonight?”
“Sleep?”
“Before that. Say about seven?”
“No, why?”
“Since I didn’t make it to the Trail’s End over the weekend, I thought I’d try tonight. Want to come with me?”
“Are you asking me out?”
She flushed. Her cheeks actually turned a bright pink. It made her look younger. Vulnerable. “I’m going to hang out there for a while and see if I run into anyone who was at the protestors’ meeting Friday. I’m trying to get a line on who might be Shane’s silent helpers.”
“What do you need me for?” he asked.
“I don’t need you for anything, but I thought you might like to come with me. And two sets of eyes are always better than one. Besides, people remember you. You’re the man who works for ski patrol.”
“The traitor to the corporation,” he said.
“Is that what you feel like—a traitor?”
“No.” He shut the lid of his laptop. “I’ll go with you.”
She smiled, and that dizzy, off-center feeling hit again. Maybe he was coming down with something.
The door opened, and George strolled in. Today he wore an acid-green ski suit, like a walking hazard sign.
“Dad!” Stacy said. “What are you wearing?”
He looked down at the suit and grinned. “It was free at the local swap box. Can you believe it?”
“That it was free, yes,” she said. “That you took it—no.”
“I think it’s great,” George said. “No one will miss me on the slopes.” He looked from her to Connor. “What are you two up to?”
“What makes you think we’re up to anything?” Stacy asked.
“Because you both look like you got caught with your hands in the cookie jar.” He rapped a fist on Connor’s desk. “Want to take a few runs together?”
“Sorry, George. I have to get over to the terrain park. They’re resetting it for a competition later in the week.”
“I should try that out some time,” George said. “Do some rails, try some jumps.”
Stacy groaned. “Dad!”
George shook his head. “If you think your embarrassment is going to stop me from doing anything, you’re sadly mistaken.” He looked at Connor. “I’ve been making a fool of myself in front of women for fifty years. The difference is that now I’m too old to care.”
Connor stood. “I’d better get to work. And I need to lock up.”
George turned to Stacy. “How about you? Want to ski with me?”
“No rails or jumps,” she said.
“We’ll take it nice and easy,” George said. “I won’t do anything to embarrass you.”
“Dad, you’re wearing a lime-green ski suit. It’s too late.”
“Make fun of me all you want, but no one is going to run over me on the slopes.”
The two were still bickering as they walked away.
Connor locked up and tucked away the key, then headed toward the lift. Halfway there, he was almost knocked over by a snowboarder. “Hey, careful!” He steadied the young man, then realized it was Jace. “Jace, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Except he didn’t look fine.
His face was almost as white as the snow around them, his eyes bloodshot.
“I was just, uh, trying to avoid someone. Someone I don’t want to run into.
” He looked around, then turned quickly aside.
“I’ll see you.” Then he loped away, his board tucked under one arm.
Connor looked around but didn’t see anyone looking their way.
Chase grabbed Connor at the base of Lift One. “Ride up the lift with me,” he said.
“I was headed over to Six,” Connor said.
“You can cut over on Runway from the top,” Chase said.
“All right.” Connor fell in beside Chase in the ski patrol line. The patroller was carrying a small white cardboard box. “What’s in the box?”
“You’ll see.”
The liftie, Cerise, a shapely brunette with a heart-shaped face and big dark eyes, motioned them forward. “Hi, Chase, Connor,” she said.
“I got you a present,” Chase said. He held out the box.
She hesitated.
“Go ahead. It won’t bite.” He shoved the box toward her.
She took the box as Connor and Chase slid onto the chair.
“Go ahead and open it,” Chase said.
Smiling, she shook her head.
“Come on,” he pleaded. He turned to look back as the lift chair rose.
Cerise held the box out away from her and carefully lifted the lid. Nothing happened. She leaned over and peaked inside, then made a face and dropped the box. It landed on its side in the snow beside the loading area.
“Aw, man. That’s edible, you know!” Chase called. He collapsed back in the chair, laughing.
“What was in the box?” Connor asked.
“A cupcake with a jelly cockroach on top. I had it made special.”
“You sure know the way to a woman’s heart.”
“Aww, it’s just Cerise. And it gets her back for filling my boots with shaving cream.”
“I thought that was to get you back for the plastic spiders.”
“She never should have told me she liked spiders. Anyway, it was a good cupcake. Cost me five dollars to get that bug on top.”
“I’m sure knowing that will make her feel much better.”
The two patrollers parted ways at the top of the lift. Connor headed down Runway toward Lift Six, but he hadn’t gone far before his radio beeped. He stopped at the side of the run. “Ski patrol One,” he answered.
“It’s Eddie Vasquez on Lift Eleven. Got a report of a guy wiped out on Calico Hill. His friend says he’s hurt pretty bad.”