Tahoe Skydrop (An Owen McKenna Mystery Thriller Book 16)

by Todd Borg

  “Okay. Thirteen inches it is. A good lucky number.”

  He took the pipe down the aisle, found iron pipe caps, then headed back toward a door at the back of the store. He stopped and turned back to me and said, “For custom jobs, we’re supposed to get a fifty-dollar pre-auth on your credit card so we know you won’t disappear while we’re in the back room. But just between you and me, that’s like getting a pre-auth on your Budweiser bump on the way home after work. I don’t need to do that, right?”

  “Right,” I said. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

  He nodded and went through the door.

  I spent my time going up the plumbing aisle learning about faucets. I acquired a basic familiarity with kitchen faucets, shower faucets, bathroom sink faucets, bar faucets, and tub faucets. I grappled with the differences between double-handle faucets and single-handle faucets. There was even a section on touchless faucets. That stopped me for a bit as I didn’t understand how they worked. But I didn’t finish my education because the man came back. He handed me my custom pipe section, thirteen inches of heavy black metal with silvery end caps. It fit the hand well, and had a significant heft. The end caps served not just as additional weight but as a stop to keep the pipe from sliding out of a sweaty hand.

  “What do you think?” he asked. “Will this get you out of your bind?”

  “It’s perfect,” I said.

  I thanked the man again, and I paid a very reasonable price for it at the cashier. When I was done, I walked out of the store with the plainest, smallest, simplest, and most basic but totally deadly weapon a guy could carry without having to wonder how to load bullets into a magazine. The pipe club fit nicely in the narrow tool pocket on the hip side of my jeans, projecting out just enough to make it easy to grab. It fit my hand. It was light enough to swing easily. It was heavy and dense enough to crush bones.

  Hopefully, I’d never need it and soon I would forget which drawer I’d stuffed it into.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Back at my office, I got on my phone to tell Street about our plan. She made the appropriate protests. I knew it wasn’t that she didn’t trust me or she thought I was rash. She simply cared that I didn’t come to serious injury.

  When I was done explaining the plan to her, we said our “I love yous,” and I hung up.

  I called Vince. “Where are you on the tandem glider?”

  “I’m currently driving back from Carson City with the glider,” Vince said.

  “Still on track to meet at my office at three?”

  “Will do.”

  Diamond and Vince were both on time.

  They took the office guest chairs, I sat in my squeaky desk chair, and Spot luxuriated on his custom Harlequin camo bed. Diamond slid his chair sideways so he could reach his arm down and pet Spot.

  “Walk us through how you envision this going down,” Diamond said.

  I gave them a rough list of thoughts and concerns, beginning with possible approaches and retreats. How and where one would come in by paraglider. Checking the weather for wind conditions. Paying special attention to any lights, and what we needed in terms of weapons.

  “I don’t carry a sidearm, as you know, Diamond. Vince?”

  “I’m a mountain guide, into nature. Not a hunter. I don’t like guns.”

  I turned back to Diamond. “A good part of me is hoping you’ll have your standard assortment of weapons.”

  He nodded.

  “How do you think the timing should work?” Vince asked.

  “You said the moon sets at three. Let’s plan our approach for three. So we each back up from there. A big variable for us is where we launch from. Do we need to come off the highest nearby peak? If so, the highest one to the south is probably Rubicon Peak at ninety-two hundred feet. But there’s no easy trail to its summit. To the north is Granite Chief Peak at Squaw Valley. That’s more like nine thousand feet.”

  Vince was shaking his head. “It’s not the height of our launch location. It’s whether there’s a wind strong enough to produce an updraft we can ride. If we can drive or hike to a location with a good wind, then the elevation doesn’t matter, because we can ride the updraft as far as we want.”

  “Okay,” I said. “You know the territory, right?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “You have topo maps?”

  “Yeah. I brought them.” He held up a cardboard tube.

  “Good. Mine are at home. Let’s spread yours out.”

  We got the maps flattened. I found the one that included the territory of Stone Lodge.

  “Here’s our destination. It’s kind of near the end of this ridge.” I made a little X on the map with a pencil. “I’m hoping they will have some kind of light on so we can identify the place in the dark. But if not, here’s how I think we can find it flying at night. To the west is Twin Peaks, one of the most distinctive mountains nearby, two sharp points not quite nine thousand feet high. If we can fly close to them, we should be able to recognize them even in the dark of a moonless night.” I put my fingertip at Twin Peaks. “Following the ridgeline down from Twin Peaks, we get to Stanford Rock, here. From that point, there’s a descending ridge that will take us to Stone Lodge, here.”

  Vince put his big finger at the X I’d made to represent Stone Lodge.

  “Vince, once you determine our best launch location, then we can plan a flight path.”

  He said, “Our current weather pattern has high winds from the southeast at higher elevations and low winds out of the south at lower elevations. If that pattern holds, the best launch point would be at Alpine Meadows ski area, here. We could drive up to the base of the Sherwood Express chairlift and hike up the mountain. South winds would allow us to launch from the ski slope.”

  “I’ve been to the front side of Alpine Meadows when I go skiing,” I said. “To get there, you drive in from the Truckee River canyon. But the Sherwood Express lift is on the back side of the ski area, up the Ward Creek Canyon. How long does it take to drive up there from where you live?”

  He thought about it. “I think it’s about thirty minutes.”

  “And how long will it take to get into the air with me attached?”

  “That’s a big variable. It depends on the wind. If the wind is good, we’ll only have to hike up the mountain for ten or fifteen minutes to get to a clear launch area. But if the wind is weak, we’ll be stuck waiting, hoping it picks up.”

  “Okay. If we successfully launch, how long will it take to fly from that point to the lodge?”

  “Again, it depends on the wind. A decent wind gives us good rate of climb. The lodge is only about two miles away as the crow flies from the ski slope. In ideal conditions, we could fly to the lodge in ten minutes. But a wind that dies out means we don’t make it at all and we crash-land someplace in the mountains.”

  “Then let’s work the timing from your place. Let’s say Diamond and I meet you at your place. I ride with you in your truck to the ski slope. Diamond takes Spot in the Jeep and drives to a place down below the drive that leads to Stone Lodge. We build in a fudge factor of, say, twenty minutes to ensure we can still arrive on time even if we encounter delays.”

  “Easy for me,” Diamond said. “I get up to the gate early, and I hang with hound dog, here, in the dark.” He looked down at Spot. Spot’s chin was on his bed, between his front paws. Judging by his shut eyes, he was out cold. But from the way his faux diamond ear stud sparkled, he was processing every nuance of our conversation.

  I said, “Vince, I can imagine potential delays in getting to our launch and also flying to the stone lodge. So if we get near the lodge early, can we kill time in the sky?”

  “First, our goal will be to launch right after the moon sets and then head staight to the lodge. If we need to kill time, and if there is a steady wind, then we can find a ridge-based updraft and ride it for as long as we want. But if we get airborne and then the updraft we’re riding dies, then it could be a problem just getting to
the lodge.”

  “I see that as the most important variable. Can you tell by the weather forecast?”

  “That will give us an idea, but nothing solid,” Vince said. “I can get a winds-aloft forecast. But local conditions vary, so we often don’t know if there’s enough wind for our trip to go indefinitely, or if it’s just going to be a glider ride downhill.”

  I opened my laptop and went to the national weather website. “When I search on Lake Tahoe, I get a forecast for lake level, sixty-three hundred feet of elevation. It says winds five to ten, out of the south.”

  “Not enough to fly,” Vince said, shaking his head. “We need the winds-aloft forecast. You hiked up to the house. How high do you think it is?”

  “If I compare my climb to The Face ski run at Heavenly, it was much more gentle. But I’d guess my total elevation gain was about three-fourths of The Face.”

  “The Face rises seventeen hundred vertical feet,” Diamond said. “Three fourths of that is about thirteen hundred vertical. What do you think your starting elevation was?”

  “I drove in on an old Forest Service road past the Granlibakken Resort, and I climbed several hundred feet. So my hike possibly started around sixty-seven hundred feet. If I add thirteen hundred to that, that would suggest the lodge sits at about eight thousand feet.” I turned to the topo map. “That fits with the elevation lines on the map. Let me check winds aloft on the aviation weather site.” I brought up the relevant information. “They provide a forecast for nine thousand feet. Clear skies, low temp tonight of twenty-two degrees, wind at ten knots out of the south.” I turned to Vince. “How does that sound?”

  “Possible but not certain,” Vince said again. “A five-knot wind won’t produce enough uplift unless the landform is shaped just right and it funnels and concentrates the wind. We’re unlikely to find that. But if the wind is ten, it might work. Our situation is complicated by the fact that we’re both big guys. You weigh what?”

  “Two fifteen,” I said.

  “Okay. I’m two fifty. That means we’re hanging four hundred sixty-some pounds from the glider. And local conditions always change. At twelve or fifteen knots, we’d have ideal potential, but we still won’t know until we’re in the sky. We may get enough lift here and there to make our destination. But there might not be enough to allow us to hang out and circle above. Gliding in the mountains can be unforgiving to the point of deadly. You can’t go down in the forest or on a steep rocky slope without serious consequences. We have a saying in the mountains. ‘Take your landings where you can get them.’”

  “Okay, you’re flying the glider. I’m just riding. So I could be on my cell giving Diamond an update as we get closer. I could tell him when we’re about to drop in. Whether you think we’re going to make the skydrop or not even get close, I could keep him informed.”

  “Yeah,” Vince said. “But you’ll have to be real quiet. Some passengers hear the wind in their ears and think they have to talk loud. But if someone on the ground hears voices coming from the sky, it will be way obvious.”

  “Good point.” I turned to Diamond. “When we’re about to launch, I’ll call you and let you know what our chances look like.”

  “If you have reception,” Diamond said.

  “Right. If I don’t, then I’ll call you once we’re aloft. I should have reception from the sky. Once we get close, I’ll let you know if it appears that we’ll probably make it. Just before we drop out of the sky, I’ll call and let it ring once, then hang up.”

  Diamond reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He switched on the mute button. “It’s on vibrate, now. Vince will make his best estimate of when he thinks you two can drop out of the sky into the fenced area. At that time, Spot and I will be outside and near the gate.”

  When Diamond said his name, Spot lifted his head and looked at him.

  “Sorry, dude,” Diamond said. “I’m not calling you, just referencing you.”

  “What do we need to prepare?” Vince said.

  “Diamond, any update on bear spray?”

  “I’ll pick them up after this meeting.”

  I said, “I was thinking that after we sneak into the house, the moment the bad guys show their faces, we fog the place.”

  Diamond was shaking his head. “They could come out shooting. I have my Sig Sauer. You should have a piece, as well. If that fits with your ethics.”

  “I wouldn’t want to use one. There’s a kid in that house.”

  “But you said these guys carry multiple arms,” Diamond said. “You could carry a weapon. Just don’t shoot the kid.” He looked at me like I was an idiot.

  “I would carry one as backup.”

  Diamond reached down, pulled up his pants leg. He had on an ankle holster with a pistol in it. He unwrapped a Velcro strap, which made a loud crackling noise. He handed the holster and gun to me. “Take this. You come under serious fire, you’re going to want it.”

  I pulled the pistol out of the holster and held it up. “This thing is tiny. It barely weighs more than a large hamburger.”

  “Less,” Diamond said. “It’s a Kel-Tec P-thirty-two, six-point-six ounces, seven rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber.”

  I hefted it, turned it over, aimed it at the wall.

  “They call it a P-thirty-two. I call it my Barbie Doll Pea Shooter,” Diamond said.

  “It’s a semi-automatic, but no safety,” I said.

  “Correct. It’s got a light trigger pull, but it’s long. You gotta pull it all the way back. It won’t accidently fire even if you drop it.”

  “Tiny gun, but a thirty-two caliber still packs a punch,” I said.

  “Sí. Big enough to punch a hole all the way through a guy if you don’t hit bones. But it’s still just a hole puncher. Makes the target really mad. So it’s good to plan on multiple holes. Also, the gun is lightweight so you can expect some kickback. Bottom line is, you might be glad to have a weapon.”

  I patted my thigh and pulled out my Lowe’s club. “I’ve got this, too.”

  Diamond reached for it, hefted it, turned it over. “Good as any sap,” he said.

  Diamond turned to Vince. “What about you? Do you carry?”

  Vince shook his head. “No. Like I said, I like nature. Alive. I’m not interested in killing. But I do have a knife.” He pointed to a small leather sheath on his belt.

  Diamond turned toward me. “Guy lets principles get in the way of shooting people. Imagine that.”

  “Me, too,” I said.

  Vince frowned. He wasn’t sure if Diamond’s dry delivery meant he was kidding or not.

  Diamond said, “I also remember confiscating some M-eighties from the bear spray dude. We could use them like stun grenades.”

  “Do you think they’re the old, illegal kind that are really loud?” I said. “Three or four grams of pyro powder in them? Or are they the new pretend ones that are really just firecrackers stuffed into red cylinders to mimic the original M-eighties?”

  Diamond shrugged. “They look old, so I’d guess they’re the real thing. If we lit them and tossed them indoors through a broken window, the occupants would think they were stun grenades. They’d be cowering before they realized they were just deafened a bit.”

  “Sounds good,” I said. “But I’m hoping we can find the secret entrance and don’t have to break any windows.”

  “Tell us about that again?”

  “The guy who built Stone Lodge, Isaiah Hellman, apparently had a thing for backup entrances, and he built one into Stone Lodge. His motto was AHAB, which stands for Always Have A Backup.”

  “Also the name of the crazed whaler in Melville’s book,” Diamond said.

  “Yeah. Hellman also had a thing for Melville. Something about Melville being one of the only 19th century authors who wasn’t anti-semitic. But that’s another story. Anyway, AHAB represented something important to Hellman. Maybe focus and drive. The secret door is built under one of the windows. So we’ll go along and f
eel for some kind of latching mechanism. If we find it, we can get into the lodge without anyone knowing.”

  “Pretty strange,” Vince said. “But good for us, if we can find it.”

  “No ordinary guy, that Hellman,” I said. “Another thing I’ll bring is small flashlights and large zip ties.”

  “What’s that for?” Vince asked.

  “Poor man’s handcuffs,” Diamond said.

  “In addition to our cell phones, we also need radios so we don’t have to dial and so all three of us are on at the same time,” I said. “Earpieces would be good, too.”

  “I can get those,” Diamond said.

  “When do we meet again?” Vince asked.

  “I think Diamond and Spot and I should show up at your house at about one a.m. That should give us plenty of extra time.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  I met Diamond Martinez on the South Shore at midnight. Because he had agreed to accompany Spot on our mission, he left his wheels at the Douglas County Sheriff’s Office at Stateline and transferred into my Jeep.

  When Diamond got in the passenger seat, Spot leaned forward from the back seat and got busy with his nose.

  Diamond had to reach behind his neck and fend Spot off. “Less enthusiasm would be appreciated, Largeness. Feels like I’m going through the TSA.”

  I said, “Wearing your dark civvies, I see. Smart.”

  “Brown clothes, brown skin,” he said. “Can’t get much more night blending.”

  “Night blending,” I said. “New word coinage?”

  “Specialty of Mexicans learning English.”

  “Seems like you already knew English pretty good,” I said.

  “Pretty well,” Diamond said.

  “You got a brown sidearm to be even more blendable?”

  “Sí. My Sig Sauer nine has wood grips and the steel has the Nitron finish.”

  I looked at Diamond’s clothes. “Sweatshirt and loose Carhartt pants. So your piece could ride on your ankle, outside of belt, inside of belt, under your arm, small of back... Am I getting close?”