“The best,” Joe said as he took in the expanse below. Clouds drifting over the mountains seemed close enough to touch.
After a twenty-minute ride, the ski chair angled to the ground, then was stopped by an operator sitting in a booth. Joe and Terry hopped out of the chair and began walking along a narrow dirt trail. If this had been ski season they would have skied down the mountain, but today they were walking up.
“These trees are incredible,” Joe said, admiring the evergreens that towered on either side of the trail.
“Hey, try this,” Terry said, going up to a pine tree and sniffing its bark.
Joe put his nose next to the bark. “Mmm, nice.”
As Joe stepped back on the trail, he heard something crunching over gravel and pinecones. A bicycle came barreling at them, almost knocking the pair over. “Hey, watch it!” Terry yelled as the biker flew past.
The cyclist expertly spun the bike around and braked at the same time. A cloud of dust filled the air. The sturdy frame and thick wheels told Joe this was a mountain bike, perfect for rugged terrain.
Joe realized this was one of the women who had swerved in front of Robinson’s Jeep the night before. Joe guessed she was in her early twenties. Beneath the biker’s helmet, Joe could see short blond hair that framed a scowling face.
“Hi, Bev,” Terry said, her voice suddenly tense.
“Well, if it isn’t Tattletale Terry,” Bev said in a sarcastic tone. “Don’t you have something better to do? Like spying on someone who’s supposed to be a friend!”
Terry grimaced, “I don’t have friends who steal.”
“Well, aren’t you the goody-goody,” Bev said. “Say, how’s the rafting business these days?”
A look of anger crossed Terry’s face. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” Bev answered as she spun her bike around. She began pedaling down the trail, spraying more dust in the air.
“So that was Bev of Bev and Myra fame,” Joe said as he brushed dust off his jeans.
“Right,” Terry said.
“Why did you get so angry when she asked about the rafting business?” Joe said.
“Here’s why,” Terry said. “After you guys left this morning, I talked to the other rafting guides about our accident on the river. One of the guides told me he thoroughly checked all the rafts last night and found them all to be just fine.”
“Uh-huh,” Joe said with interest.
“But that same guide,” Terry continued, “remembered seeing Bev and Myra riding past the resort shortly after that. Then when Bev asked about the rafting business in that sarcastic tone of hers, it made me think that maybe Bev and Myra went into the storage bin and put a small puncture in one of the rafts. When they were fired, they turned in all their keys, but who knows which ones they might have copied?”
“Makes sense that they’d do that to get back at Robinson for firing them,” Joe said.
“You got it,” Terry answered.
Joe and Terry continued up the trail. “Tell me more about the theft,” Joe said. “What actually happened?”
“Robinson has a small office in the HQ,” Terry told him. “He’s got a safe in there, which he usually keeps locked. One night he left the office for a few minutes. I was walking down the hall, and I saw Bev and Myra coming out of the office. I didn’t think anything of it until later when Robinson mentioned some things were missing from the safe. So I told Robinson what I saw.”
“So there wasn’t any actual proof that they stole anything?” Joe said.
“No,” Terry answered. “I guess that’s why Robinson never pressed charges. He never even told me what was stolen. All the same, it seems pretty obvious Bev and Myra were the culprits.”
“Interesting,” Joe said.
The trail grew steeper, causing Joe to breathe harder as they climbed. Soon he and Terry reached the timberline. Above Joe and Terry, the rest of the mountain had no trees at all.
“Tell me a little about Clay Robinson,” Joe said as he and Terry scrambled over dirt and gray rock. “It might help us if we had more background on the guy.”
“I know he grew up in Coalville,” Terry said. “His father was a janitor or something like that. I get the impression the family didn’t have much money. After high school Robinson did some construction work, then he left this area when he was in his twenties.”
“Where did he go?” Joe asked.
“He went to New Mexico and got into the land-developing business,” Terry said. “I guess he did pretty well, money-wise. Then five years ago he moved back here and bought Silver Crest.”
Joe paused to catch his breath. “This altitude is amazing. Do you know anything about his family life?”
Terry paused. “He supports his parents, who live in Florida now. He was married for a while in New Mexico, but he and his wife split up before he came back here. I suppose he knows a lot of people, but he doesn’t seem to have many close friends. That’s part of the reason I asked you and Frank to get involved in this. I’m not sure there’s anybody else concerned about his welfare.”
“Except for Stella,” Joe said.
“That’s true,” Terry said with a nod. “He really loves that dog. And the feeling is mutual. I kept Stella in my room last night, and she really seemed to miss him.”
Joe and Terry began to climb again. “Do you know if there’s bad feeling between Robinson and his ex-wife?” Joe asked.
“Sorry, I don’t,” Terry said. “I’ve spent a lot of time around Mr. Robinson, but he’s not the kind of person you get to know well. Sometimes I think he keeps his personal life locked up in that safe.”
After a short distance Terry and Joe were almost at the peak. Shielding his eyes, Joe gazed down at the surrounding mountains. He could actually see clouds floating below him now.
Terry clapped Joe on the shoulder. “Congratulations. You’re now twelve thousand feet above sea level. That’s two miles high. This is probably the closest you’ll ever get to touching the sky with your feet on the ground.”
Joe took a deep breath. “Frank is really missing something,” he said.
“Hey, do me a favor,” Terry said. She handed Joe an automatic camera. “I want you to get a picture of me on the peak.”
The uppermost portion of the mountain was extremely steep, but Terry began clambering over the rocks as if she’d been born there. “Careful!” Joe called as he readied the camera.
“Come on, you’re talking to Mountain Woman,” Terry called back. But she spoke too soon. Several steps later she slipped and tumbled a few yards down the incline, bumping against the jagged rocks. She was able to get up, but Joe saw she was gritting her teeth in pain.
“Hey, Mountain Woman,” Joe called as he climbed up toward her, “are you all right?”
“I guess,” Terry called back. Joe could see she was holding her left arm. “But my wrist is killing me.”
“Can you move your fingers?” Joe asked, still moving toward her.
Terry gave it a try. “Not really,” she said.
“It could be broken,” Joe said. He took Terry’s right arm and helped her down the rocks. “We have to get you to a doctor on the double.”
Terry was still in pain when she and Joe reached the ski lift booth. They walked to the window of the booth so they could get the operator to stop the lift for them. A young woman with earphones stood in the booth, listening to a radio.
When the woman turned, a sneer crossed her face. “Well, hello, little Miss Tattletale.”
Joe realized this was Myra. She was tall with long, glossy black hair. Joe thought she looked about the same age as Bev.
“Myra,” Terry said with surprise. “I didn’t see you when we came up. I didn’t know you worked here.”
“I have to work somewhere,” Myra said, giving her long hair a toss. “Remember, you got me fired from my last job. And, oh, I’m on the afternoon shift. I just got here.”
“Look, Myra,” Terry said, irritated, “I’m sorry
if I caused any trouble for you and Bev, I just reported what I saw.”
Myra rolled her eyes, “Well, I guess Robinson might have gotten what was coming to him anyway. Wherever he is now.”
Joe stepped forward. “Why do you say that? Do you have an idea where he might be?”
Myra turned to Joe. “Are you talking to me? I don’t believe I know you.”
“My name is Joe Hardy,” Joe said firmly. “Do you have any idea where Clay Robinson might be?”
“No clue, buddy,” Myra said as she turned away. “Have a nice ride down.” With that, Myra pressed a button to stop a ski chair for Joe and Terry.
Joe wanted to interrogate Myra further, but getting Terry to a doctor was more important. He helped Terry into a chair, got in himself, and pulled down the safety bar. The chair moved forward with a lurch.
“How’s your wrist doing?” Joe asked.
“It hurts like crazy,” Terry said.
As the chair moved down the mountain, Joe noticed a cluster of dark clouds hovering over a nearby mountain. There was a gray haze below the clouds, and Joe realized it was raining there.
After about five minutes, the chair stopped.
Joe looked around, “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Terry replied. “I hope it’s not any kind of mechanical trouble.”
Joe and Terry sat for several minutes, but the chair didn’t start to move again. Terry shook her head with disgust. “You know, I’ll bet Myra stopped the lift to spite me.”
“She does seem to have a lot of spite in her,” Joe said. “How long do you think she’ll make us stay here?”
“Knowing her,” Terry said, “it could be the rest of the day.”
The operator’s booth was now out of view. Joe realized Myra was probably too far away to hear him if he yelled, especially if she’d put her radio earphones on again.
Joe spotted one of the cable poles that stood several feet in front of the chair. The pole had a ladder that led to the ground.
“I’m climbing down,” Joe said. “I’ll get Myra to start this thing up again.”
“Forget it,” Terry said. She grabbed Joe’s arm. “If you fall, you could break a leg and then we’ll be worse off than we are now.”
Joe pondered the situation. He figured there was about a three-story drop from the chair to the ground. “I have another leg, you know.” He hoped he sounded brave, but he really felt scared.
“Joe, no!” Terry cried.
Joe knew this wasn’t the smartest thing in the world, but he also knew he had a pretty good chance he’d make it to the pole.
He stepped on the seat and grabbed hold of a metal bar above his head. The chair rocked slightly. Joe placed a foot on the safety bar, tested it, then put his other foot on the bar.
The chair rocked a little more. Joe waited for it to stop. Then, keeping one hand on the bar above him, he reached with the other hand for a rung of the ladder. His fingers were a few inches short of their target.
Joe shifted his weight on to one leg, sent the other leg back for balance, and stretched his arm out farther.
Suddenly the chair began to move again.
Terry cried out in horror.
A lightning bolt of fear pulsed through Joe’s body as he toppled forward and found himself falling!
8 Thin Air
* * *
Joe shot his hand out. He managed to catch hold of a metal bar on the side of the chair. He hung dangling from the chair as it moved down the mountain.
“Hang on!” Terry called. She reached down and grabbed Joe’s arm with her good hand.
“Not a chance I’m going to let go,” Joe called back.
Joe tried to get his other hand onto the bar, but the angle was awkward, and the chair’s motion did not make things easy.
Holding the bar with her injured hand, Terry struggled to haul Joe up with her other hand. “I can’t get you!” she called.
Joe kept dangling, but the arm with which he was holding on was growing tired. He glanced at the grassy ground moving below. He wondered if he should just risk a fall. But even if he did a tuck-and-roll landing, he knew he’d be looking at a few days in the hospital.
“I’m coming up!” Joe called.
With a burst of effort, Joe kicked out his legs and swung his body. He caught the bar with his other hand. Then he pulled himself high enough so Terry was able to grab hold of him under the arms and pull him back into the chair.
Joe and Terry collapsed on the chair, both of them breathing hard.
“I shouldn’t have eaten all those pancakes this morning,” Joe said.
“I think you just worked them off,” Terry said with a laugh, “Now will you promise me you won’t get out of the chair until we get to the bottom of the mountain?”
“I’m so tired, I may not get out of the chair when we do reach the bottom of the mountain,” Joe said, breathing hard.
• • •
Joe and Terry didn’t return to Silver Crest until seven. Terry was now wearing a lightweight fiberglass splint on her left wrist. According to the doctor, the wrist was sprained, rather than broken, but it was enough to keep her away from her duties as guide for a few days.
There was still no word on Robinson. By this time his disappearance was the main topic of discussion among the Silver Crest staff and guests.
Frank had bought sandwiches, potato salad, and soft drinks in town. He, Terry, and Joe sat outside on a blanket and had a picnic dinner.
After Joe and Terry related their close call on Moondance Peak, Frank had a few things to report. “I talked to several people in town,” he began. “Apparently there was a real tug-of-war between Jagowitz and Robinson when the council voted on the Golden Dream. Robinson told everybody that Jagowitz was a crazy old codger living in the past. Jagowitz told everyone that Robinson would sell his own mother to make a dime.”
“Harsh words,” Joe said, chewing a bite of sandwich. “No telling where things could have led.”
Stella was lying at Joe’s feet, watching every movement of the food with great interest.
“Did you find out anything new about Bev and Myra?” Terry asked as she handed the dog a bite of meat.
“Maybe,” Frank said. “I found a guy who’s into mountain biking. He said he heard a rumor they’d been arrested for theft in another town a while back.”
“If they do have an arrest record,” Joe said, “that would make them nervous about getting arrested again. Maybe they were afraid Robinson would change his mind about pressing charges and decided to fix it so he couldn’t.”
“Possibly,” Frank said. “But remember, that was only a rumor about their arrest.”
Joe dug into the potato salad. “We have a strong motive for all of our suspects—Jagowitz, Bev, Myra, Sykes. And they were all in the vicinity when Robinson disappeared last night. But we still can’t pin the crime on any of them. And, you know, they might all be innocent.”
Terry put a hand on Stella. “Where is Clay Robinson?” she said quietly.
Stella let out a low whimper. It might have been a request for food, Joe thought, or it might have been because she missed her owner.
After their picnic everyone put on jackets as the air turned cooler and night descended.
“Phone call for Joe Hardy!” someone called from the HQ.
Joe ran to the HQ while Terry and Frank walked over to play a game of moonlight horseshoes. By the time Joe returned, Terry had already beaten Frank by a wide margin.
“Don’t sweat it,” Terry told Frank. “I get a lot more practice than you.”
“Who was on the phone?” Frank asked.
“That was General Radman,” Joe said with a sly smile.
“Really?” Frank said. General Radman was an Air Force general who was a friend of their father, Fenton Hardy. “How did Radman know you were here, and what did he want?” Frank asked.
“That’s who I was calling on the pay phone at the Black Elk,” Joe said. “I wanted to
see if he could arrange for us to visit Cheyenne Mountain. You know, that’s the NORAD facility near Colorado Springs. Radman just called me back.”
Frank knew NORAD stood for North American Aerospace Defense, and that Cheyenne Mountain was a large military base. “Let me guess,” Frank said. “You think the people at NORAD might be able to tell us about the orange UFO we saw last night, which you think might truly be an alien spacecraft, and which you think might be connected to Robinson’s disappearance.”
“It’s worth exploring,” Joe insisted. “Radman says we have an appointment at Cheyenne Mountain with a general tomorrow afternoon at two. It’s a four-hour drive. You can come or not, but I’m going.”
Frank shook his head with amusement. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, how about you and me playing a game? Terry’s too good for me.”
Joe’s game had improved since the night before, and he managed to stay fairly even with Frank.
Terry and Stella sat in the grass while the brothers played. At one point Terry spoke. “Look at all those stars up there; it makes you wonder if we are alone in the universe.”
“While you were in with the doctor,” Joe said, “I read the pamphlet Sykes gave me. Even if aliens haven’t come to earth yet, this pamphlet makes a good case that intelligent life exists out there somewhere.”
Joe watched Frank throw his two horseshoes. Both of them landed in the sandbox. Then Joe took his two shots. One of them missed the box, but the other landed closer to the ring than either of Frank’s shots.
“Your point,” Frank said as he and Joe walked over to retrieve their horseshoes.
“Here’s what Sykes has to say,” Joe told Terry. “Here on earth, life was able to evolve because of the oxygen and warmth provided by the sun, right?”
“Right,” Terry said. “I learned that in freshman biology.”
“And the sun is a star just like all those stars we see out there now, right?” Joe said.
“Right,” Terry agreed. “It just looks different because it’s a lot closer than the rest.”
“And astronomers know there are literally trillions of stars in the universe,” Joe continued. “Even if only a small percentage of those stars has a solar system, there would still be millions of planets.”
The Rocky Road to Revenge Page 5
