Chapter Thirteen #2
Banners hung over the plaza welcomed skiers to the upcoming Martin Luther King weekend festivities.
The mid-mountain restaurant arranged dozens of bright red Adirondack chairs facing the sun and clustered around a fire pit, while Guest Services set up a large hospitality tent handing out water, maps and sunscreen at the base of Lift One.
Though most visitors would arrive Saturday morning, early arrivals were already filling the parking lots and condos.
Connor had just released Farley for a morning run when Doug flagged him down. The resort director was in ski gear this morning. “I’ve been touring the front side,” he said when Connor reached him. “Everything looks to be in good shape.”
“It is,” Connor said.
“No problems clearing the ridges this morning?”
“None.”
“I hear we’ve got a new FBI agent here,” Connor said.
The lines around Doug’s eyes tightened. “He was waiting for me when I arrived at the office this morning. He’s even more tight-lipped than that woman. Said he was here to set things straight.”
“Did you call and ask the FBI for more help?” Connor asked.
“Stacy told me yesterday that she was going to do that. I would just as soon the government stay out of this. That includes the Forest Service. We’ve operated SkyCrest on Forest Service land for forty years. They know we’re good stewards. Yet, they’re giving us a hard time about this expansion.”
“Since when does the government ever move quickly?” Connor said.
“We’re going to have protestors around all weekend,” Doug said. “The town granted a permit for them to collect petition signatures right outside ski resort property, and there’s some kind of rally in the town square. You’d think the local businesses would be on our side.”
“People have a right to free speech,” Connor said.
Doug grunted. “I want zero tolerance this weekend,” he said. “Anyone steps out of line, they’re off resort property. I don’t want any trouble. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Security is on red alert, too. Call them if anyone becomes a problem.”
“We’ll have everything under control,” Connor said. He only hoped Stacy and George could control things on their end.
Doug moved on, and Connor started toward ski patrol headquarters to kennel Farley. His radio crackled.
“There’s someone here at the office looking for you,” Lily said.
“I’ll be there in five.”
The man looked like a regular tourist, in dark pants and a navy parka, a black watch cap pulled low over his ears. But his rigid posture and alert attitude told Connor this was probably Special Agent Damien Anthony. “Connor Donaldson?” the man asked at Connor’s approach.
“That’s me.” Connor leaned his ski poles against the rack and clicked out of his skis. “What can I do for you?”
“Special Agent Anthony, Federal Bureau of Investigation.” Anthony showed his ID. “I need to ask you some questions.”
“Come on inside.”
Farley scampered around the man, but the agent ignored the dog. Inside, Farley accepted a treat from Connor and went into his kennel, but Connor left the door to the cage open. He settled behind his desk. “What’s this about?” he asked.
Anthony pulled up a rickety folding chair. “Tell me about the missing explosives.”
Connor repeated the story of how he had discovered the theft of the four boxes of cast boosters.
“Who has access to the keys to the magazine?” Anthony asked.
“Me. And there’s another set in the resort office. But whoever stole those explosives didn’t use a key. They cut a hole in the building wall. That should be in your report.”
Anthony’s lips tightened. “There was an inbounds avalanche yesterday.”
“Yes.”
“It was snowing hard yesterday. I would think an avalanche wouldn’t be that unusual.”
“It would be unusual in that location at that time of day. And lots of people heard an explosion shortly before the snow released. If you were at the resort earlier this morning, you would have heard the sound multiple times as ski patrol did avalanche mitigation.”
“Could you have heard a gunshot? Or a slamming door?”
“It was the sound a cast booster makes when it explodes,” Connor said.
“Who could purchase these explosives?” Anthony asked.
“Anyone with a license. They’re primarily used in mining and avalanche mitigation.”
“So a miner would have access.”
“As would whoever stole the boxes of explosives from our magazine.”
Anthony looked at him calmly. “We only have your word that the explosives were stolen.”
Connor worked to rein in his temper. “We have a hole cut in the back of the building and four boxes of cast boosters and one of detonators that are no longer in our inventory.”
“You keep the inventory records.”
“Yes.”
Anthony said nothing, merely looked at him.
Connor pressed his lips together. Two could play this game.
Anthony was the first to blink. He stood. “I’d like to search your vehicle and your apartment for the missing explosives,” he said.
“Sure.” Connor stood. “As soon as you show me a warrant.”
Another peeved expression from the agent. “If you’re innocent, there’s no reason not to cooperate.”
“There’s no reason for you to accuse me of theft, either.”
The two men faced off. Farley emerged from his kennel and came to stand beside Connor, silent, his gaze fixed on the agent.
Anthony glanced at the dog. “We’ll talk later.”
He left, and Connor knelt and hugged the dog. “Thanks for backing me up, buddy,” he said. He gave Farley another treat, then pulled out his phone and texted Stacy. Everything okay?
A moment later his answer came in the form of a thumbs-up emoji. He ignored the flutter of nerves in his chest and pocketed the phone. Stacy knew what she was doing. She would be all right.
“Two skiers injured in a collision at the top of Lift Seven,” came the message on the radio. “Need a couple of toboggans and some help.”
“I’m headed your way,” Connor messaged. He pocketed the phone, kenneled the dog and headed out the door again. He still had a long day ahead of him. Better not to think about Agent Anthony or Stacy or all the other things and people he couldn’t control.
Stacy and her dad had to hike two miles in the snow to approach the ranch house from the back side.
By the time they were in sight of the house, Stacy was tired, achy and overheated from the strenuous trek.
But they had encountered no one on this section of the ranch.
They paused on a slight rise a few hundred yards from the house and surveyed their target.
George scanned the area with a pair of binoculars, then passed them to Stacy. “I don’t see any signs of life.”
“There’s smoke from the chimney,” she said. “Someone could be inside.”
“Or they’ve gone out and want the house to be warm when they return.” He sat back. “We’ll wait another half an hour. If there’s no sign of movement by then, we’ll get closer.”
She took out her phone. She had silenced her alerts but could still receive messages. “Connor texted to see if we were okay,” she said. She sent back a thumbs-up emoji.
“He would have been good to have along,” George said. “An Army Ranger and all.”
“He has a job, Dad.”
“I know. And he’s probably having more fun blowing up things than sitting here with us.” He raised the binoculars to his eyes once more. “I remember doing surveillance one winter in Maine, up near the Canadian border. We were tracking a kidnapper. My partner at the time lost two toes to frostbite.”
“Did you catch the kidnapper?” she asked.
“We did. And the little girl was safe. Her grandfather had hired a guy to take her from her father—his ex-son-in-law—and bring her over the border.” He lowered the binoculars.
“It was one of those cases that hit a little too close to home. I would have moved heaven and earth if anyone had tried to take you from me.”
Stacy swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I worked a human trafficking case last year,” she said. “Teenage girls brought to the US with the promise of an education, forced to work for an escort service in Houston. It felt good to put the creeps responsible behind bars.”
“The Bureau does good work,” George said. “If they could clean house of a few rotten apples, they would do even better.”
“One fight at a time, Dad.”
He stood. “Let’s move a little closer.”
She stowed the binoculars and prepared to head out once more. But they were just starting downhill when a tremendous Boom! shook them.
“Down!” her father shouted and shoved her to the ground.