Chapter 10
Risky told me he would handle making sure any hidden surveillance was dug up across the entire property before the wrong person found it. Fortunately, I didn’t have many bookings right now to accommodate finishing up the deck and the outdoor kitchen. For the one or two nights I had guests on the property, I let them stay in the cabin Risky had practically pulled apart in search of secret cameras. It was the only spot I was sure was safe.
The following weekend, a giant man driving a pristinely restored Ford Bronco with Colorado plates showed up. He was heavily tattooed, wore dark sunglasses he never took off, and had the same brooding and unscrupulous aura around him that I often caught floating around Risky. He was wearing nothing more than a plain T-shirt and jeans, even though the temperature was steadily dropping, making me think he didn’t just have local plates, but also local blood. The guy had to be familiar with the state and acclimated to the unpredictable weather.
The two men shook hands and did that backbreaking, pounding thing that all close, hypermasculine friends did in place of a hug. I watched out the windows by the door as they greeted each other and fell into an easy rhythm as they caught up. The tattooed guy scratched Risky’s chin, and Risky laughed at whatever the dark-haired man had said about his beard. A moment later, he whipped out a cell phone and was scrolling through what I assumed were pictures of his family with my handyman.
If they didn’t look like a couple of criminals on parole, it would’ve been a sweet and wholesome moment. Since they both appeared like they could toss someone off the side of the mountain with no hesitation, the warm camaraderie left me feeling like I’d stumbled into a Twilight Zone episode.
I couldn’t tell if Risky could see me from where I was spying on him or if he just had a sixth sense and knew there were eyes watching. Either way, he raised his hand and crooked his finger in a silent gesture, telling me to join them.
I wiped my nervous, sweaty hands on the legs of my jeans and stepped outside. The guy with the tattoos pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head. I nearly gasped out loud when I caught sight of his two different-colored eyes. I had known it was possible, but I’d never seen an actual human with heterochromia. It gave him the impression of being something almost otherworldly.
“This is my friend Zowen Archer. He’s an expert in cybersecurity. We used to work together frequently back at my old job. Fortunately, he and his family spend half the year in Denver, so he’s available to help out with our current security problems.”
I stiffly stuck out my hand and watched as it was swallowed up in a firm, tattooed grip. “Nice to meet you. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
I could hardly swallow. My anxiety had nothing to do with the man in front of me. It had everything to do with the way Risky had said “our” problems. As if the repeated disasters I was dealing with weren’t mine alone to find a solution for. I hadn’t had anyone to share a burden with since my grandparents had passed away.
“When Risk calls, you answer. No questions asked. Happy to help.”
I glanced at Risky as he lifted an eyebrow in return.
“Risk?”
It was his last name and a far more fitting nickname than Risky, if you asked me. It was less cutesy and more to the point. It was also a bright red flag. Only someone looking for trouble would willingly get entangled with a man named Risk.
Risky shrugged. “My old boss called me by my last name. It stuck. When I retired, it felt like I should retire that moniker as well. I’ve never answered to Declan. Switching it up to Risky seemed like the best option without having to legally change things. I like Risky. It makes me sound like I’m a fun guy.” He winked at me. “Don’t you agree?”
I put my hand out in front of me as if I were warding off evil and gave a short laugh. “You’re definitely something.”
I turned my attention back to the large man who was watching our interaction with a smirk on his face. He was very good-looking in a brutal and harsh way. He made Risky appear more refined and elegant than he typically was, even though he was in a similar outfit without the addition of the ever-present flannel. I wondered what the wardrobe Declan Risk had left behind looked like because I sincerely doubted it included a scrap of plaid fabric or denim.
“I used to snowboard when I was younger. I’ve driven by this place a hundred times. I’m local, so I never stayed longer than a day, but I always thought the way this place was built right into the mountainside was very cool.” He turned his head to look out over the vista and across the craggy horizon. “I’m happy to help keep your property out of the wrong hands. I’m going to show my wife pictures when I get home. Once she sees it, she’s going to fall in love and ask me to bring the family up here for a weekend.”
I could tell he was trying to come across as less intimidating and threatening. I appreciated his consideration, but it was a waste of time. Some men simply oozed power and danger. Risky turned different personas on and off like a switch as it suited him. His friend had his pressure dialed all the way up with no reprieve.
“You said you used to snowboard. Why did you quit?”
The sport was prohibitively expensive these days, and dealing with the crowds was a nightmare. One had to really love winter sports to brave all the negatives for a day on the slopes or a terrain park anymore.
“Ahh … there were a lot of reasons. I worked a lot. Started a family. Crashed a motorcycle once or twice. Got older, and my knees decided they couldn’t keep up with me. I still try to hit the mountains here or in California once or twice a year. Now I’m there to make sure my son doesn’t break his damn neck, and to keep all the cocky teenage boys away from my daughters.”
I let out a genuine laugh. It was hard to remember the last time that had happened. I was strung too tight these days. It often felt like if the strings pulling me in every direction tugged just a hint more, I was going to shatter. It was nice of this big, burly guy to do his best to set me at ease.
I tucked the pale, dyed part of my hair behind my ear and told him, “If you can help figure out who’s trying to ruin me, you and your family can have an unlimited number of weekend visits at the lodge on me. I’ve got to do something before someone gets genuinely hurt.”
“I’ll do my best.” The big man Risky had called Zowen removed his sunglasses from his head and hooked the arm into the neck of his T-shirt. “Risk told me that you currently don’t have much staff, but you’re getting ready to hire for the season.”
I nodded. “There’s him”—I pointed to Risky—“and my neighbor’s teenage son. Dex is failing every single subject in school and can hardly handle getting luggage from the front door to a guest’s room without being distracted by his phone. I doubt he’s a criminal mastermind.”
“You’d be surprised what kind of threat a kid who knows their way around a gaming system and some basic programming can be. Is there anyone else on the payroll?”
“A childhood friend. I’m not paying her, but she shows up now and then to lend a hand. I’ve known her forever. She’s got her hands full with a new baby. I can’t see Banner sulking around to sabotage the property.” Frankly, I didn’t think she was savvy enough to pull off any of the oddball things happening around here.
“People change over time. It’s good to make sure you aren’t looking at anyone, especially those closest to you, through rose-colored glasses. I’m going to take those names and the information for anyone else you hire and run background checks on them. I can get deeper and find things they don’t want anyone to find.”
He gave Risky a bland look. “I can vouch for Risk. I already know his deep, dark secrets. If he tells me he wants to help you out and find whoever is behind all these accidents, I believe him. If he wasn’t hell-bent on staying retired, he could pull the nitty-gritty background info as well. He used to handle digging into people’s lives and secrets like it was child’s play.”
Risky snorted and narrowed his eyes at his friend. “Now I drive a skid loader and build patio furniture. Guess which job doesn’t keep me up at night.”
Curious to hear more about Risky’s past from someone else, I asked, “You mentioned you know each other through work. Do you know his previous employer as well?”
He gave an exaggerated shudder. “Unfortunately. My cousin is married to the man Risk stepped in to replace. We’ve got a gnarly and sprawling family tree. Some of the branches just happen to spawn deadly fruit.”
I couldn’t come up with anything to match that. He was as well-spoken as he was scary. I was ready to drop the topic and take him inside the lodge to start his search. The sooner this chaos ended, the better.
As soon as we reached the massive, carved wood front door, my cell phone rang from the back pocket of my jeans. I opened the door and practically shoved Risky inside. My dad was the one calling, and I didn’t want anyone to overhear our conversation.
My mother was sarcastic and leaned into meanness when she didn’t get her way. My father had enough of his parents within him that he was softer and gentler with his modes of manipulation. It was easy to get angry and stay angry with my mom. My dad made it much harder. Whenever we had a big disagreement, I always ended up feeling like a bully. He always acted like I’d broken his heart with zero regard for the damage he and my mother had done to mine.
“Hi, Dad. I haven’t heard from you in a while. Is everything okay?”
He only called me when he was in trouble and needed me to bail him out. Or if he needed money.
I always gave him what he asked for. I figured it was what my grandparents would have wanted me to do. It didn’t matter that he and my mother had been left a sizable inheritance, or that they had blown through it in a matter of months. I was always the bigger person—because I had to be.
“Your mother told me she just talked to you. She said you’re still stubbornly working your life away, trying to renovate the lodge.” His voice was low and soothing. He rarely had any inflection in his tone. It took a lot to get a reaction out of him. The only thing he was ever concerned about was my mom. “Haven’t you grown out of those childish dreams of yours yet? That place is too old. Too isolated. It’s better to tear it down and take the paycheck. The land it’s on has always been worth a fortune. I don’t believe your granddad would want you to suffer in vain. The whole family wants better for you. You deserve a respite after everything that went down in Denver.”
I sighed and kicked a rock resting on the driveway and watched as it bounced its way toward the tire of the Bronco.
“Do you know what went down in Denver, Dad?”
I’d bet money he had no clue beyond whatever bits and pieces my mother had spoon-fed him. I’d spent weeks alone, terrified to step out of my house. I couldn’t leave town because there was a police investigation. The press was hounding me. Baker’s family did their best to make it known they wanted me to suffer as deeply as they were. I had no one to talk to. No one to lean on. There were days I cried until I made myself sick. There were nights I was so angry that I trashed my apartment in a rage. Not once did this man or his wife reach out to me for a check-in. My mother didn’t even answer the phone the one time I gave in to weakness and longing and called to hear a familiar voice. All I had gotten was a voicemail, saying she and my father were traveling somewhere in Arizona to stay in a desert yurt for a month and they wouldn’t have cell service or Wi-Fi.
“Not exactly. You’ve always managed to land yourself in deep water, which is why taking on the lodge isn’t a good idea. I don’t want you to get in over your head. Why not sell and take the money and travel the world? You can invest in finding yourself and becoming the best version of who you’re meant to be.”
I sighed, lifting my free hand to rub my forehead in aggravation. “I’m not the one who’s lost, Dad. And I don’t think money is the way to find the best version of myself.”
I didn’t have the time and leisure they did. My best self was buried under an avalanche of misfortune and submerged in a sea of dissatisfaction. I had goals I needed to reach. There were dreams I wanted to chase. Most important was the happiness I longed to find.
“Don’t be so flippant, Lucky. Money makes life easier. It puts things in reach you can’t even imagine. The lodge was my parents’ pride and joy. It doesn’t have to be yours.”
I rolled my eyes and kicked another rock. I was sick and tired of having the same conversation. “When I find something I care about as much as this place, I’ll let both you and Mom know. Was there a real reason you called?”
His voice never rose or lowered, but I could tell he was disappointed in me. “I don’t need a reason to call my daughter.”
I swore under my breath and lifted my head to squint against the sun. “All right. If you don’t need anything, let’s talk later. I’ve got a bunch of projects going on so I can get ready for the high season. Once everything is done, you should bring Mom for a visit. I can show you how hard I’ve been working and prove I made the right decision.”
My father cleared his throat, and I could easily picture him looking sheepishly at the ground. “That won’t be possible. You know your mother and I don’t do well in the cold. I called to let you know we’re heading to Costa Rica in a few weeks. We’re planning on spending the summer there.”
I noticed he hadn’t extended an offer for me to join them or even suggest I visit. They never did.
“Sounds fun.”
He made a slight sound and paused before asking, “Would you mind wiring us a couple thousand dollars for the airfare? And maybe a bit extra for living expenses?”
I didn’t bother to ask where the money I’d sent them a couple of months ago went. Neither likely knew. They didn’t do things like track expenses and bank balances. All money might as well be Monopoly money in their hands.
“Yeah. I’ll go into town when I get a minute and send it out.” I glanced at the front door of the building, wondering what Risky and the tattooed giant were up to. It was rare I trusted anyone enough to give them the keys to my castle.
“Umm … can you get to town and send it now? Your mom wants to leave as soon as possible. You know how she is when she gets an idea in her head.”
I couldn’t hide my aggravation any longer. “Dad, I just told you I’m busy. I can’t drop everything because of your wanderlust.” Someone in the family needed to act like an adult.
He sounded wounded when he muttered, “Is it that hard to help your parents out? I think you need to remember the only reason you have funds to put into your vision for the lodge is because my parents left you everything that was supposed to be passed down to me. We both know they only did that because they expected you to take care of me and your mother.”
If the money ever ran out, my dad could make a fortune playing the professional victim. I had no other choice but to give in. If I didn’t do as he asked, all I would get was a follow-up call from my mother. She would scold me and harass me until I did what she wanted just to get her to shut up. It was better to acquiesce than argue.
“Fine. I’ll do it now.” I hung up before he said goodbye.
The last thing I wanted to do was drive down the pass and into town. Resigned to my fate, I went inside to get the keys to my truck. Risky asked what I was doing, but there weren’t enough hours in the day to get into my complicated family dynamics. I told him I needed to run an errand and wouldn’t be back for a couple of hours.
He told me to be careful. It was a reminder to give my old beater of a vehicle a thorough once-over before jumping in and driving down a mountain. I had visions of someone cutting my brake lines or messing with my steering wheel. I felt like I was a background actor in a terrible, low-budget thriller, and I couldn’t wait for the damn end credits.
Seeing that nothing looked amiss, I hopped into the cab and set off to take care of my parents. It wasn’t the first time I wondered if it was ever going to be my turn to be taken care of—or the bigger question was, would I ever let someone step up like that for me.
My first instinct was likely to be pushing them off the mountain.
Maybe I wasn’t as different from Risky as I’d thought.