Weathering the Storm: Secrets in the Snow, # 6

by Roz Marshall

  Her spirits sank. "Briefly. Are they okay?"

  "Recovering. One has torn knee ligaments, the other just had a dislocated shoulder so he's back at school already. But that was why I came to see you."

  She felt the colour drain from her face. "Yes?"

  "We've determined that the accident was partly caused by incorrect settings on the bindings. As you know, we have our own stock of skis and they're issued by our staff. But," he adjusted his tie, "I think it might be better if the skis were set up by trained ski professionals — like yourselves."

  Oh! Maybe it wasn't bad news after all. She gave him a small smile.

  "Would you be interested in buying our skis and boots — I'd give you a good price — and we could stop at your shop on the way to the slopes each time to pick up the equipment? That way you could hire them to others on the days we're not having lessons."

  Jude's mind clicked through the ramifications of this. It had the makings of a good idea. If she was doing mountain bike hire from the shop in the summer, then ski hire in the winter made a lot of sense. And it gave the shop a real purpose. She'd need to employ an extra member of staff — or two — but it could work. She glanced across at Mike, who smiled encouragingly. The only issue might be financial. "How much were you thinking of?"

  "There are one-hundred sets of skis — or thereabouts — and nearly two-hundred boots. I thought maybe six thousand?"

  That sounded like a very good price. But she should haggle. He would expect that. "How old are the skis?"

  "We buy some new sets every year." He scratched his chin. "But I suppose a few of the oldest ones might be ten years old."

  "Mmm." She tried to remember how much was left in the ski school account. Have to leave enough for this month's wages. Buying the skis would make a big dent in her bank balance. "We've had a good season. But not that good. I could offer five thousand." She fished in her bag and pulled out a cheque book.

  "I don't think our Board would be happy with that. Let's say five and a half, and fifty percent discount on your hire prices?"

  "Make it five-two-fifty and you've got a deal."

  He held out his hand. "Lovely to do business with you, Ms Winters."

  Chapter 27

  Saturday 25th March

  "ARE YOU SURE I should do this?" Debbie stopped at the door of the ski area office and turned to Callum. "What if I fail? It's a lot of money to waste."

  "You won't — you've got a brilliant trainer, haven't you?" He preened theatrically.

  "Is it even worth it? I'm getting plenty of work without it. And the season will be finished by the time the course runs."

  "But you'll get paid more next year, when you pass. And then you can pay me back some of the money you owe me." He winked at her.

  She pushed at his arm. "I thought that— wait a minute. Next year? Will you be here next year?"

  "Aye, probably." His face went serious. "And this summer too. Jude's offered me work mountain bike guiding, once the skiing's finished."

  "So are you not—" She frowned. "What do you do in the summer, anyway? Really?"

  "Really?" He shrugged. "Work on the Fringe in Edinburgh. For the festival. Selling tickets, being an usher — anything, really, that gets me near to the bright lights and greasepaint. I want it to be me on that stage one day." He stopped himself. "Wanted. Fame's not all it's cracked up to be. I'd rather be wi' you, now. I was kind of hoping…" His messy red hair flopped over his forehead. "I was hoping maybe you'd stay as well, and we could get a house together. Save sharing with the likes o'…" He jerked his head towards the ski school hut.

  A house together. She felt a frisson of excitement inside. "But what will I do? I can't mountain bike."

  "You could learn. Or maybe Jude could find another job for you." His face brightened. "Or maybe you could run a branch of your mum's cleaning business up here. They always need cleaners for the holiday lets, don't they?"

  He was right. There were lots of options open to her. A new life, here in the Highlands? She chewed her lip. But then, hadn't she been living it — and loving it — these last few months?

  He took her hand. "How about it, Debs?"

  She smiled. Being her own boss and having her own house in White Cairns — with Callum — sounded like just what the doctor ordered. "Okay. I will. You persuaded me." She pushed the door open. "I'd better sign up for the course, then."

  On a purple-tinged plain in a mystical land, a brave and fearless warrior brandished his sword at the fearsome monster who barred his way. At his side, an elf princess stood with an arrow notched on her longbow, ready for anything the orc could throw at them.

  'Aim for his eye', Lancelot said. 'I'll distract him and knock his helmet off.'

  'K', she said, raising her weapon and pulling the bowstring to her ear. 'Ready when you are.'

  Lance rushed at the creature, causing it to raise its huge axe above its head; at the last minute he feinted left and jumped in the air, kicking the orc's head with his steel sabaton. It howled its frustration, as its bronze helm tumbled to the ground, and swung its weapon in an attempt to wound Lancelot.

  But not before EvenStar's arrow had pierced its vulnerable eye.

  It screamed again, this time in agony, and collapsed, writhing, to the ground.

  Victory.

  Gain: 150 experience points. Reward: 3 diamonds.

  Congratulations. You have achieved Level 62.

  Return home or proceed to next quest?

  Spock spun in his chair and held up a palm.

  Kaitlyn's hand met his with a loud slap. "High five! What a team!"

  Yes, we are. He smiled at her, suddenly feeling goofy. "I like you."

  Green eyes sparkled in the lamplight, and her lips parted in a wide grin as she leaned forward and caught the zipper edges of his fleece. "I like you, too," she said, pulling him closer and raising her lips to his. "Very, very much."

  Chapter 28

  Tuesday 28th March

  "AH, GOOD MORNING Ms Winters." Mr Paton pushed open the door of the ski school hut and came over to the counter.

  Jude smiled up at him. "How can I help you? Did all the classes get away okay today?"

  "Yes, fine thanks. I came about the hire skis."

  "Oh yes! Do you want us to come and pick them up?"

  "No. Eh—" he cleared his throat and glanced round the room, "—it's rather delicate, actually. You—eh your cheque was returned by the bank — refer to drawer."

  "Oh!" Jude's hand flew to her mouth. "I'm so sorry. But I don't know why that happened. There should be plenty of money in the account because the wages are still to come out." The wages are still to come out! If there was so little money in the account that the equipment cheque bounced, the wages wouldn't be paid either, and payday was tomorrow. Jude's throat started to close up and a thundering started in her ears. What happened to all the money in the account? She swallowed, and tried to keep her voice level. "Can you leave it with me, Mr Paton? I'll have to phone the bank and find out what's happened. I'll come and find you at lunchtime. There must be some mistake."

  "Please hold while we try to connect you…"

  Drumming her fingers on the desk, Jude tried to ignore the knots in her stomach while the interminable musak droned on and on. Come on!

  "Your call is important to us…Please hold whil—"

  "Good morning, my name is Sean, how can I help you?"

  "I want to check the balance on my account please."

  Two minutes and what felt like twenty security checks later, she got an answer. Sixty-one pounds forty-two. As her insides convulsed again, a sickening suspicion formed in the back of her mind. "Could you tell me what the last transactions were on the account, please?"

  "On the twenty-seventh of March, cheque number four-six-one for the sum of twenty-five thousand pounds—"

  Jude gasped.

  "—was paid to a mister Klaus Olsen. There was an ATM cash withdrawal for two-hundred and fifty pounds, and another ATM withdr
awal of two-hundred and fifty on the twenty-sixth. On March twentieth there was a direct debit to Snowsure insurance for—"

  "Thank you, I've heard enough." He's cleaned me out. Tears welled up, and she blinked hard. After all my hard work this season. And the instructors… How was she going to pay them? They had rent and mortgages due; they'd be relying on their wages coming in at the end of the month.

  A black cloud of despair descended which her shoulders just didn't feel strong enough to shrug off. She laid her head on her arms and let the gloom and melancholy envelop her.

  Waving goodbye to his ski class, Mike was whistling as he jumped up the ski school steps and threw the door open. But the sight that met him quashed his good mood immediately. "Jude!" He strode over to the desk and put an arm around her shoulders.

  She raised a tear-stained face, green eyes swimming.

  "What's wrong?" He sat down beside her and pulled her into a hug.

  "Th—there's no money… The ski hire cheque b—bounced. Allan has taken all the money and—" she twisted in his arms so she could see his face, "—there's nothing left to pay the wages."

  "What — how can he do that?" But even as he asked the question, he realised the answer.

  "It's a joint account," they said at the same time.

  She nodded. "Most of the money went to Klaus from Ski-Easy."

  "Ah!" He nodded. "I saw Allan in one of their uniforms earlier. Thought he was doing some freelancing. But…" He stood up. "I'll go speak to him, find out what's going on."

  "He's up the hill?" She pulled a tissue out of a box under the counter, and wiped her eyes.

  "Yeah."

  She stood up and squared her shoulders. "I'll go. I need to do this myself."

  He turned her so he could look her in the eye. "You're not alone any more, remember? I'll ride shotgun. You might need a witness." Or someone to stop you killing the lying bastard.

  Chapter 29

  THEY ARRIVED AT Ski-Easy's hut just in time to see Allan waving off a red-headed pupil whose ski suit looked like it cost more than Jude's entire wardrobe. "Allan, a word please," Jude said.

  He turned, face hardening as he saw her; eyes narrowing as he saw that Mike followed behind. "So it's like that is it? Kick me out so your fancy man can move in."

  "Please don't judge me by your own standards, Allan. Mike is here as a friend. And a witness."

  "Witness? Am I in court now?"

  "No. But you might be. For theft and fraud."

  His face reddened, and then he turned on his heel. "I don't have to listen to wild accusations like that," he said.

  "Explain it to me or you'll be explaining it to the police," she said grimly. "Why did you steal twenty-five grand from the business account? My business account."

  He turned to face her again, and stuck out his jaw. "Our business account. The business I ran for the last fourteen years, remember?"

  "I remember only too well. I remember that you left last summer to earn some money because the business had done so badly last season — when you were running it; and I remember discovering in December that you hadn't put a penny into the account all summer, nor have you done since. Everything in that account was money I'd earned from the business, and most of it was earmarked for this month's wages." Her voice cracked at this last pronouncement, and she swallowed, blinking hard.

  "And I'm due a share of the business. You can't just kick me out after all this time with nothing, after I've looked after you and Lucy, and run the ski school for all these years." He squared his shoulders. "I needed something to set me up in a new business, so I took what I was due."

  "Wait—" Mike interrupted. "You've started a new business?"

  "We've started a new business," drawled a lugubrious voice behind them. Ed Griffiths.

  Allan's smile had a snake-like quality. "Ed and I have bought Ski-Easy." He shrugged. "Klaus was wanting to retire."

  So her money had let Allan buy a stake in their rival business? Bastard. The tightening sensation in her chest threatened to stop her breathing, and the thunder had started in her ears again.

  Briefly, she felt a soft hand on her arm, and then Mike stepped forward. "Allan, if you don't want the police involved, we'll need you to sign something to say the money you took is in full settlement for everything you're due for the business. Either that, or you're in a heap of trouble."

  "Do it, Allan." Ed said placatingly. "We don't need bad publicity for the new business. Get them out of your hair."

  Allan's eyes narrowed as he stared first at Mike, and then at her. "Okay," he said, after a long moment. "Give me something to sign, if it'll get you off my back."

  Jude swallowed hard. Fourteen years together, a business and a lovely daughter, and he was just shrugging it off as an inconvenience. The man was a monster.

  "He doesn't deserve you," Mike muttered in her ear, then raised his voice to Allan. "We'll get something typed up and send it across to you by tomorrow. Okay?"

  Mike took Jude's elbow and steered her back across the car park to the ski school hut. "You're better off without him."

  She nodded, eyes bright with tears. "I know that now. I just— I just don't understand how he can be so heartless. And I still don't know how I'm going to pay the wages this week." A tear coursed down her cheek.

  Can't tell her what I really think about that scumbag. She was with him for years, after all. "Yeah, well I have a suggestion for that."

  "Mmmm. Maybe Simon can produce some magic money out of thin air?"

  He laughed. "Better than that. How about replacing one deadbeat partner with a newer, better model?"

  She stopped and turned to face him, her forehead creasing.

  He put out a thumb and rubbed the worry lines away. "Let me buy into the business. Give me a reason to stay here." He looked deep into her eyes. "Another reason to stay here."

  A tinge of pink flushed her cheeks. "But how could you afford it, Mike? I know how much I pay you, and it's not that much."

  "Yeah." He took a deep breath. "Remember I said a while back that I do work on the internet in the evenings and in the summer?"

  "Yes?"

  "Well, I make a lot of money. More than I can spend." He shrugged. "It just sits in an account, not doing very much. So you'd be doing me a favour if you let me invest in your business, wouldn't you?" He grinned at her.

  "You— you've got lots of money?" She looked down at his sensible boots and practical clothing.

  "Yeah, I know." He raised his eyebrows. "I'm not good at spending it."

  She laughed. "But I thought the dot com bubble had burst?"

  "It has. I do online trading." He opened his hands. "I'm good at seeing patterns, reading between the lines. It's a sweet way to make money. Lots of money."

  "Like a secret millionaire or something?"

  "Something like that."

  "Gosh." She stilled.

  "So. What d'you reckon? Partners?" He held his breath.

  "Partners?" She looked at the solid set of his shoulders, the openness of his smile, and the integrity in his blue eyes. The idea of Mike being around permanently sent a shiver down her spine. "You really mean it?"

  He didn't answer. He just wrapped her in his arms and let his actions speak louder than words; tender kisses showing her just how much he meant it, just how much he wanted it, and just how much he cared.

  For a moment, she held back, worrying about the gossip-mongers who would spread rumours about them, given such a public display of affection. But then she realised, with a glorious abandon, I don't care. She'd endured worse storms and she'd survived. Tattle-tales shouldn't stop her having a chance at happiness, of sharing her feelings with this wonderful man.

  She put a hand on his chest and pushed back, gazing up at those amazingly blue eyes. Her feelings for him swelled so much that she just had to blurt it out. "I think I love you."

  His voice was husky as he replied, "You know I love you. Don't you?"

  This time it was her that didn
't answer. Running a hand around his back, she lifted her chin and raised her lips to his. Folding into his embrace, she lost herself in the moment, in the emotions that he sparked inside her, in the knowledge of being loved and loving in return. Whatever happened, they'd weather the future. Together.

  Epilogue

  Friday 28th April

  AT THE TRAINER'S signal, Debbie gritted her teeth and clicked her ski poles behind her as she set off on the final run of her course. Pass or fail at the end. No pressure.

  This late in the season, the snow was sugary, with lumps and bumps that had been formed by the passage of other skiers and boarders. 'You need speed to drive through this sticky snow,' Callum had told her, so she pointed her skis more downhill and tried to carve around the bumps so she didn't lose speed by skidding.

  After the weeks of preparation, and the effort of skiing to the best of her ability for the week-long course, her body was aching and her legs longed for respite. Not long to go, she told herself. Just a few more turns. Concentrate. Come on!

  For the last, steeper section of the run, she changed the rhythm of her turns, mustering the remnants of her energy and trying to dance her skis through the snow like Callum did. Of course she didn't have the skill and ability that he had, but she could keep that picture in her head and try to imagine that she was skiing like him, couldn't she? 'Skiing is eighty percent confidence, and twenty percent skill,' he'd said.

  She could see the trainer near the bottom of the run now, clipboard in hand; dressed in black like an angel of death— don't think like that! Suddenly, a softer lump of snow snagged her ski and threw her off-balance for a moment. See what happens? Concentrate! With a massive effort, she pulled her body back over the centre of her skis, and negotiated the final few turns as gracefully as she could manage, skidding to a stop beside the Grim Reaper, ready to hear her fate.