Descent (A Stone Mountain Mystery Book 1)

by Kristina Stanley

  Nora’s cousin, Donny, rolled his wheelchair across the snow-filled parking lot and got into his van. Kalin was always impressed with the way he managed the winter conditions on his own. The door to the drugstore opened, and her boss’s son, Ian, scooted across the parking lot. She hoped he hadn’t seen Nora with the test. That juicy detail would spread quickly.

  The passenger door opened and Ben hopped inside. He checked the clock on the dash. “We’ve still got time. Let’s go.”

  Kalin drove forward out of the parking space and pushed the pregnancy test to the back of her mind.

  CHAPTER SIX

  November 27th

  Ben arrived at the base of the Alpine Tracks ski run at eight twenty, ten minutes before the Holden team racers were due. He expected a clash if one racer didn’t need a pass and the others did. Guest services had assigned two ticket checkers to scan passes, and he recognized Amber Cristelli but not the other.

  Ben was pissed off Reed hadn’t reprimanded McKenzie for pushing Amber. Instead, Reed had given Kalin a hard time about her security team. Why uphold the rules if the president didn’t have the guts to hold firm? But Ben took his job seriously, and he’d take the flack whether the president backed him or not.

  He straddled his snowmobile and spoke into his two-way radio, letting the patroller on the hill know he’d be up in twenty minutes. Before he drove to his assigned position along the course, he wanted to make sure McKenzie didn’t hassle the ticket checkers.

  “Hey, handsome.”

  Ben recognized Vicky’s voice without looking in her direction. “Hey.”

  “That’s all you’ve got for me?” Vicky slipped her hand inside the neckline of his jacket and turned him toward her. She pressed her lips onto his. “Mmmm.”

  Ben backed away. The feel of her lips hadn’t changed, and his heart hammered against his ribs. “What are you doing here?”

  Vicky played with the zipper of her cream ski jacket, raising and lowering the tab seductively. “I’ve moved back. I thought we could get together later.”

  Ben forced his eyes away from her naked fingers. “I have a girlfriend.”

  “I met her. She doesn’t strike me as your type.” Vicky laughed. “I can see by your expression she didn’t tell you I stopped by yesterday morning.”

  “What did you say to her?”

  “Nothing, so stop worrying. I just asked if she could tell you to call me. I guess she didn’t pass on the message.”

  A maze of poles and ropes guided skiers to a single entry point at the chairlift, and Kalin strode past the far side in the direction of the Mountainside Café. Ben liked the way she walked with purpose. Her mixture of curves and muscle was sexy as hell. He loved the dimple that appeared on her left cheek when she smiled, and how her nose wiggled when she talked. He’d never met a person with one green eye and one brown eye before. Sometimes he couldn’t believe she’d chosen him. She was definitely his type, and he desperately hoped she hadn’t seen Vicky kiss him.

  Vicky sucked her lower lip between her teeth, a gesture Ben remembered well, and hooked her finger underneath his jacket collar. “You never looked at me that way. Don’t tell me you’re actually in love.”

  Ben had thought he’d been in love with Vicky. She’d worked in ski patrol, been on the volunteer fire department, skied like a demon and was gorgeous. On the surface, they’d been a perfect match.

  McKenzie clomped through the maze entry with his ski boots undone. He wore his racing suit and balanced his skis on one shoulder. He stopped a foot in front of Ben and sneered at him.

  “Do you want something?” Ben asked.

  “Nope. Just making sure you understand how to treat me.” He grinned at Vicky. “Hi, babe. You’re back.”

  Ben nudged Vicky away from him. He wanted to punch the smug smile off McKenzie’s face and maybe break his crooked nose, but his job with ski patrol was too important to risk just for the satisfaction of hitting the jerk. “Good luck training today.”

  “That’s more like it.” McKenzie dropped his skis and snapped into the bindings. He shoved with his poles and sped around the ticket checkers without glancing in their direction.

  Jeff Morley tried the same maneuver, but both checkers blocked his path. Amber held the scanner in front of him. “I need to see your ski pass.”

  “Why does McKenzie get on without one?”

  “I gotta go,” Ben said to Vicky and then strolled over to Jeff. “The president of the resort has decided McKenzie is not required to have his pass on him. The rest of the skiers are.”

  “That sucks. If he doesn’t need one, I don’t.”

  “Dude, I agree with you. Talk to the president if you want to complain. Otherwise, show your pass.”

  Jeff straightened his back and puffed his chest. He exhaled in one long breath and laughed. “Oh shit, who cares?” He held his pass in front of Amber.

  While she scanned his pass, she asked Jeff, “Do you know what time Donny gets off work?”

  “My brother? Why?”

  Amber reddened. “I want to ask him about tuning.”

  Jeff placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Sure you do. He gets off at seven.” He winked and skied toward the chair.

  “You have the hots for Donny?” Ben asked Amber.

  Amber didn’t acknowledge him, and Ben followed her gaze to the edge of the maze. “What are you looking at?”

  “McKenzie’s girlfriend. I applied for a ski tech job in the rental shop, but Nora told the manager I didn’t have enough experience.”

  * * *

  Nora Cummings stood at the edge of the lift maze. Holy shit. Ben kissed his ex girlfriend.

  She watched Steve talk with Ben and then get on the chair. Every one called him McKenzie, but not her. McKenzie sounded distant. Jeff Morley, her high school sweetheart, got on the lift behind her boyfriend. Awkward, but she couldn’t do anything about that. But what should she do about Ben? Should she tell Kalin? She’d bumped into Kalin at the drug store when Kalin was on her way to a movie with Ben. They hadn’t broken up. So what the hell?

  She watched until Steve’s chair disappeared from view and then scampered to the tuning room.

  Nora found Charlie Whittle, the Holden team’s head tuner, in the back corner. Donny Morley, her cousin by adoption, worked at the next table.

  Charlie kept his eyes on the edge of the ski he filed but motioned with his head to a pair of skis leaning against the wall rack. “The skis behind the table need to be done.”

  “Those aren’t Steve’s.”

  “He’s using his Rossignols this morning. I already tuned his skis from yesterday in case he needs them later.”

  Nora put on her white apron over her dark green sweater and wrapped the ties twice around her waist. She was the tiniest tuner in the room.

  Ian Reed’s tuning station was empty. Ian resembled Charlie with his red hair and freckles. Charlie looked more like Ian’s dad than Gavin Reed did. If Charlie wasn’t partially bald, the birthmark above his left temple would be hidden, and she bet that underneath his beard, he was probably good looking for a guy his age. “Where’s Ian?”

  “Ian resigned. He started training with the team this morning.”

  At least she wouldn’t have to work side-by-side with the jerk anymore. “You’re kidding. I thought he didn’t make the cut.”

  “I guess Jenkinson decided they needed extra back up. You know what the conditions are supposed to be tomorrow?”

  “A skating rink if it’s true Reed approved another run injection.” A special hose injected the Alpine Tracks run by squirting water beneath the surface, making the snow fast and hard, and Nora knew exactly how Steve liked his skis for the conditions. Too bad she was tuning someone else’s skis.

  “It is. He gave the go ahead during the coaches’ meeting yesterday afternoon.”

  Nora and Charlie chimed together, “You need to train on ice to race on ice,” and they both laughed. When Nora had busted her knee during a race
at the age of fifteen on an injected run, her racing career had come to a smashing halt. She’d moped for the rest of the season, but her adoptive mom, Lisa, had talked her into tuning. Nora considered herself a talented tuner because she’d raced herself and understood what a skier wanted from a set of skis.

  Nora grabbed the skis Charlie wanted tuned first. She was starting her second season as a ski and board tuner in the resort’s rental shop. She loved her job but couldn’t resist the chance to tune for the Holden race team. The ski teams, not the resort, hired the tuners, meaning she had two jobs for the next couple of weeks. Steve’s spare time dropped to nil when he trained, and so she might as well work.

  She placed a ski on the tuning bed. The repetitive motion of scraping wax off the ski bottom gave her time to think.

  She’d met Steve when he’d been dating her best friend, but Rachel had been so much more than her best friend. She’d been her adoptive sister, Lisa’s real daughter. Nora squashed that thought. Lisa had chosen to adopt Nora, and Nora was her real daughter too. Lisa had given Nora her first ski lesson, her first tuning lesson and her first driving lesson.

  After Rachel died, Steve and Nora had spent time together, consoling one another. In a couple of months they would celebrate their first year of dating, and they were getting serious.

  Steve was ambitious and sometimes that affected the way he treated people. She believed he hid a good person underneath his gruff exterior. He loved her. He’d said so. It was a trip hanging with him, and she could follow him to the Olympics as his tuner. She put her hand on her flat belly and wondered what a baby meant for their future.

  “Hey, Aunt Lisa,” Donny said.

  Nora followed Donny’s gaze and spotted Lisa leaning elegantly against the tuning room doorframe. Nora waved her over.

  Lisa approached Nora’s station and asked, “How’s Jeff doing today?”

  “I haven’t heard yet. They’re on the mountain now. What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to see what my favorite people were up to.” Lisa reached forward as if to brush a strand of hair off Nora’s forehead and stopped midway. “The gallery was quiet, and I missed you guys.”

  After losing Rachel, Lisa needed to see her just to make sure she was okay, and Nora always humored her. “You might be able to see Jeff ski if you head to the lift. He does like an audience.”

  Lisa touched Nora’s cheek with the back of her fingers. “Good idea. I’ll see you later.”

  “Come back afterwards. There’s something I want to tell you.”

  Nora watched her leave and picked up the scraper. At the tuning station beside her, melted wax hit the floor, and the pungent odor made Nora nauseous.

  “What’s up?” Donny asked. “You’re all pale.”

  “Nothing.” Every time Nora worked with Donny tuning skis, he in his wheelchair and she standing, she knew she’d been lucky only her knee got busted. Donny hadn’t been so lucky.

  “Excuse me,” she said to no one in particular and ran. She flung open a bathroom stall door and vomited. Morning sickness really sucked. How was she supposed to hide her pregnancy if she kept running for the toilet? She rinsed her mouth and returned to the tuning room.

  Donny gave her a questioning look, and she shook her head.

  “What’s with you?” Charlie asked.

  “Nothing. I must have the flu, or it’s something I ate.”

  Charlie frowned.

  “What?”

  “I didn’t expect this from you.”

  “Expect what?”

  “Coming to work hung-over.”

  “I’m not. I didn’t drink anything last night. Really, it’s just the flu.” Nora couldn’t imagine not being part of the tuning team. Tuning was her life. If the morning sickness continued, she might have to tell Charlie she was pregnant.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  November 27th

  Ian Reed hunched over the dinner table, glancing between his mother and his dad. His dad might be the president of Stone Mountain, but his mother held the power at home. She had something to say, and as usual, she was going to wait until they finished eating dessert.

  The table was set with matching tablecloth and napkins. The candles circling the centerpiece gave off enough light to eat by but also the sickly sweet scent of incense. Any passerby who witnessed the scene would assume the family was enjoying an intimate dinner. Appearances were everything, or so his mother always told him.

  Susan Reed held out her hands to Ian and his dad. It drove Ian crazy his mother had turned religious and now they said grace before every meal. Ian watched her as she prayed. Her brown hair with blonde highlights hung straight until it curved underneath her chin. She wore a shade of lipstick that matched her rose blouse. She looked perfect—plastic perfect.

  Ian wore a Holden ski team sweatshirt. His wet hair created a damp spot around the back of the collar. He didn’t care. He’d bought the sweatshirt right after the coach invited him to train with the team. The aroma of bison steak brought his stomach alive, and Ian resisted the temptation to scarf his meal.

  “Coach Jenkinson came to see me this morning.” Ian wouldn’t tell his mother he’d only been asked to train with the team. A spot had to open up for him to compete, for what team ever finished a season without an injury? He’d be an official member soon. He’d make sure of that. And then his mother would be proud.

  His dad smiled and nodded his approval at him.

  His mother finished chewing a mouthful of bison steak. She placed her knife and fork on the edge of her plate, careful not to leave stains on the tablecloth, and held Ian’s gaze. “We’ll talk after dinner.”

  Ian felt a blush creep across his cheeks. “I thought you’d—”

  “I said we’ll talk about this later. Finish eating.”

  Midway through dinner, a cat rubbed against Ian’s calf. He glanced below the table, and a black and orange cat arched its back and purred. “Who’s this?”

  His mother’s face softened. “Maxine. We’re going to foster her until we find a good home.”

  His mother had a weakness for cats. She’d drive hours to deliver a cat to a new home. She put in more free time at the SPCA than any other volunteer did. At times, they’d had as many as four cats living with them. Ian believed her care for the cats was genuine and not something she did for appearances, so he helped her take care of them. He kinda liked the cats.

  The three consumed the remaining food in silence. He wished his mother wasn’t such a great baker. Then maybe they could skip dessert and get straight to the issue.

  After she’d eaten the last morsel of homemade apple pie and taken her final sip of tea, his mother said, “I know your father spoke with Coach Jenkinson.”

  “What’s she talking about?” Ian asked his dad.

  “I asked Jenkinson to give you a spot. Your times are as fast as McKenzie’s. He’s not the only Olympic hopeful in this town. Even if the spot’s only to train with the team and not race, you never know.”

  “Okay…” Ian understood why his mother was unhappy.

  “You should’ve been able to do this on your own. Your father can’t bail you out every time you get into trouble.”

  His mom referred to his disgrace at Fernie. Ian had been on the Fernie team and managed to get himself kicked off midseason, all because of the coach’s daughter.

  “You’re nineteen. If you don’t do this now, you’ll never make the Olympic team. After your lack of points last year—”

  “That’s because I didn’t finish the season, not because of how fast I skied.”

  “Don’t interrupt me, and don’t let me down this year. Steve McKenzie is your main competition. I expect you to knock him out of the running.”

  “I’m only training with the team.”

  “You need every training run to be better than his. Did you ski instead of tuning skis today?”

  His mother changing subjects was never a good sign. The less he said, the better. “Yes.”

&n
bsp; “That must have been inconvenient for your boss.”

  “Charlie was great. He said he was happy for me and that they’d be fine.” Either she wanted him to be on the team or she didn’t. How could he ski and tune at the same time? Just once, he’d like to please her, make her happy like one of those stupid cats did.

  “I don’t want you burning any more bridges. You’ve done enough of that already.”

  “I thought you wanted me on the team. It’s not like I’d get another chance if I said I couldn’t start right away. Charlie knows that.”

  “I hope so.”

  Around eleven o’clock, Ian heard his dad’s footsteps pad along the hallway toward his bedroom door. His mother must be asleep. Otherwise, his dad wouldn’t have come. The bedsprings squeaked when his dad sat beside him.

  “You’ll do great,” Reed whispered.

  “Why is she like that?” Ian had his suspicions and wondered if his dad would fess up.

  “Your mom has high expectations of everyone, including herself.”

  Nope. Not going to fess up. “If she wasn’t so hard on us, maybe Melanie wouldn’t have run away.”

  “You don’t know that. Don’t blame her for your sister’s problems. Your mom wants the best for you. Get in a few good runs, and she’ll come around. She loves you. She isn’t good at showing it, that’s all.”

  Ian knew his mom loved him. He even understood why she’d changed. Sort of. He just wished she could get back to the way she used to be. He missed his smiling mom. Maybe if he made the Olympic team, she’d snap out of her unhappiness.

  * * *

  Jeff Morley arrived at his home in Holden and snuck into his garage. What filled his vision was not his downhill mountain bike hanging on the wall nor the bench covered with tuning equipment, but the van designed to be driven with a wheelchair secured where a driver’s seat should have been. Their aunt bought the van for Donny since their parents didn’t think Donny was worth the investment. The van consumed half of the garage and dripped melting snow onto the cement.