Chapter Fifteen #2
“Blowing up the resort isn’t going to get your family’s land back,” Stacy said.
“You figured that out, did you? But don’t worry. I won’t do any more damage than is necessary to make my point.”
“Even one bomb will kill people.”
“I don’t think the bomb will kill anyone,” Shane said. “The snow might kill a few, but not too many, I hope. The only thing I’m trying to kill is the resort’s expansion plan.”
“Tell me about the people who are helping you.”
Shane frowned. “What about them? They’re locals and concerned citizens.”
“Who’s financing all this?” Stacy asked. “Giving you advice?”
“No one. Some people have contributed money, but most of it is mine. This is a real grassroots effort.”
“What are you planning to do with us?” George asked.
“I haven’t decided yet. For now, I’m going to keep you here, out of the way. Later…” He shrugged. “Maybe you’ll have an unfortunate accident.”
An accident like Jace had had. Stacy shivered. “People know we’re here,” she said. “When we don’t come back tonight, they’ll come looking for us.”
“By ‘people,’ I assume you’re referring to your boyfriend, Connor Donaldson.
” He reached into his pocket and took out a phone.
Her phone. “He’s been texting you all afternoon.
Getting worried, I guess. But we’ll have you out of the way before he can come looking.
” He pocketed the phone once more and stepped back, toward the door. “Tie their hands again,” he said.
Eddie moved in and fastened new zip ties around their wrists, tighter this time, so that the hard plastic cut into her skin.
Stacy hissed out a breath against the pain and glared at the man, who didn’t even look at her.
The two men left, and the lock rattled against the hasp as one of them secured it in place.
Stacy glared at the closed door. It was full dark now, and the only light came from a foot-square window high in the front wall—the distant glow of lanterns and campfires seeping in to bathe the interior of the chicken house in gray.
“We might as well get some rest,” her father said. “They probably won’t show up again until tomorrow morning. We can decide how to handle them then.” Not waiting for an answer, he lay down and rolled onto his side.
Stacy stared at the closed door, her body still tense. They couldn’t even count on Connor now. Not until at least tomorrow. Her dad seemed confident they would be fine until then, but how could he be sure?
Thursday was the last day before the holiday crowds would start arriving, and Connor and his staff were stretched thinner than usual with prep work for the influx of skiers.
The day started at six with minor mitigation work.
Then came a report that a new groomer had knocked down signposts for three intermediate runs and these needed to be reset right away.
Connor and Anders were working on that when their radios crackled. “I need a toboggan to the top of Free Spirit,” Raz said, naming a popular black run.
“What’s the situation?” Connor asked. “Who’s injured?” A pause. “Raz?” Connor prompted.
“Sorry, Connor, but I’m the one injured,” Raz said.
“I don’t know what happened, but I spotted a skier racing in and out among a group of slower skiers, and I headed down to tell them to knock it off.
My ski must have caught an edge of something.
I went down, and I heard my knee pop.” She sounded near tears now. “It doesn’t look good.”
“Hang tight,” Connor said. “We’re on our way.”
They left the sign and headed toward Free Spirit. By the time they arrived, Lily and Renee were there, comforting a pale-faced Raz. Half a dozen skiers watched from a short distance away.
“I’m sorry, Connor,” Raz said as soon as she saw him. “I know we’re already shorthanded, and this is our busiest weekend.”
“It’s okay.” He put a steadying hand on her shoulder. “This isn’t your fault. All that matters now is getting you taken care of.”
They stabilized the knee, and Anders volunteered to ski down with the toboggan to a waiting ambulance. Connor returned alone to finish erecting the sign and was leaving that job when a lift operator called to report an altercation in the lift line. Connor headed over to break it up.
The day continued, with Connor putting out one fire after another. It was lunchtime before he had a chance to stop and text Stacy. No answer. His stomach churned as he stared at his messages from the day before and her one brief reply. Something wasn’t right here.
He headed back to patrol headquarters to let out Farley and eat a late lunch. He had just unwrapped his sandwich when Chase came in. “Hey,” Chase said and stomped snow from his boots.
“What’s up?” Connor asked.
Chase grinned. “Cerise agreed to go out with me tonight.”
“Told you,” Connor said.
Chase laughed. “You did. I was just so afraid of making a fool of myself in front of her. But she said she really likes my goofiness.”
“Just proves there’s someone for everyone.”
Chase grabbed two orange safety cones from the back of the room. “We’ve got an icy patch on Maid Marion I need to mark before some kid hits it and breaks something.”
“Raz is out with a knee injury,” Connor said.
“I heard. I guess that means someone will need to take her shifts.”
Connor sighed. He hadn’t even thought of that. “I guess so.”
“You can put me down for my next day off. I could use the money. I want to take Cerise someplace really nice.”
“She likes your goofiness. Maybe she doesn’t want really nice.”
“Yeah, but she deserves it, you know.” Chase left, slamming the door behind him.
Connor sat back, the remains of his sandwich uneaten. Chase was set on sweeping Cerise off her feet, even if she didn’t need sweeping. Was that what women wanted?
He took out his phone again and studied the text thread with Stacy. He wanted to wait for her. To respect her abilities. But he was growing more and more worried. Maybe she didn’t need a knight in shining armor to rescue her, but would she appreciate the gesture?