by A. G. Henley
We crested the pass and started down . . . which was way worse. Every time we approached a turn in the road, I imagined careening off the highway into the ravine below. Veena listened to music through her headphones, and Bart focused on the road, leaving me to clench the edge of the backseat with white knuckles.
At the bottom of the pass, several police cars waited, lights strobing blue and red. Over on the westbound side, a wide gate already blocked the road. Cars lined up behind it.
“What’s happening?” I asked Bart.
Veena’s eyes opened, and she freed an ear.
“They closed the pass going westbound,” he answered. “It looks like eastbound will be shut down, too.” We passed the still-open gate on our side. Workers in heavy coats and snow pants pushed it closed behind us.
Veena twisted to look back. “What about the vans?”
“They’ll have to stop or turn around,” Bart said.
“Celery,” Veena said.
I stared at her, perplexed. “If they don’t get there in time . . . shouldn’t that make things easier for you?”
She slumped against the seat. “I need those girls as motivation to lay down my best run.”
Darya was in one of the vans. I wouldn’t mind if she never made it to Copper. But the SSA team was a different story.
Bart glanced in the mirror, his blue eyes searching mine. Brown had gone to Copper early to arrange for advanced security, ensuring the hotel, hill, and other places Veena would go were safe and had exit routes planned in case of trouble. The rest of us—Cooley, Kovitch, and their teams—were behind that gate. We had no support.
My eyes widened, and Bart nodded slightly when he saw I understood. “Veena’s parents and their security team should be in Copper any time now.”
I heard the unspoken message in Bart’s words: Veena and her parents would still have protection. My gut unclenched slightly.
“My parents!” Veena’s thumbs slid over the screen of her phone. Thirty seconds later, a text came back. “The snow is lighter east of Copper. They should be there soon.”
I was grateful for Bart’s cool hand on the wheel. With the blinding snow whipping across the highway, we could drive right past the resort. Finally, a green highway sign poked through the storm. Bart steered slowly onto the exit ramp.
I couldn’t see the mountain, but at least I could make out the hotel when we pulled up.
“Room 411,” Bart said to me as Veena gathered her backpack. “Chief should be in the lobby with your key cards. I’ll get the bags.”
I escorted Veena inside. Even though the sidewalk had obviously been cleared sometime recently, our boots sunk into several new inches of snow. The lobby was cozy with a knotted-wood desk, upholstered couches and chairs, and plush area rugs in southwestern colors. A Western painting of cowboys chasing down cattle on horses, their lassos circling in the air, hung over the fireplace. An employee greeted us from behind the desk while a well-dressed man and woman sipped something hot from mugs on one of the couches. Seemed safe enough.
Brown stood beside the elevators on the far side. We moved his way, and he handed me the key. He lowered his voice. “Her parents are close.” He pushed the elevator button for us and walked away.
“Why don’t they speak to me?” Veena asked when Brown was out of earshot. “Bart didn’t say a word to me in the car.”
“Respect. You’re the princess.” I joked.
And what did that make me? Her handmaiden, I guessed. I didn’t mind.
She glanced at the mirrored door of the elevator and ran a hand through her mussed hair. “The princess is nervous.”
I kept an eye on the digital display above the door indicating the floors. “Understandable but you’re going to do great. You’ve been training like crazy.”
“Not the competition—the interviews.” She snapped her water bottle open and closed in rapid-fire mode.
“You were in People!”
She waved away my words. “That was a photo shoot. You know—smile like the blue-haired, nose-ringed, snowboarding Indian girl next door. These interviews will be more in-depth. They want to know about my life: my family, friends, boyfriends, even my skin care routine.” We raised eyebrows at each other. She had great skin, but often we were so tired at night that we didn’t even wash our faces. “Stuff I haven’t talked about before to total strangers. I don’t want to come off as a princess and be hated everywhere before the Olympics even start.”
“Veena, I don’t come from money. I don’t come from anything. But you haven’t treated me like I’m less than you. And from what Xene and my team said about the teenagers they’ve protected, that’s rare. I don’t think you have to worry about this.”
She frowned. “I’d never think of you as nothing, Nic.”
The elevator doors opened, and a laughing family of four spilled out in ski clothes. After a quick check inside, we walked in.
“That’s my point,” I said as the car rose. “You’ll come off great in those interviews because you’d never think of anyone as nothing—even Darya.”
Veena touched her mostly healed mouth, and her expression darkened.
I’d seen Darya on her cellphone in various corners of the school, speaking in a low voice to someone. I’d assumed it was family because she didn’t seem to have many friends, but who knew? Newman sometimes made a brave effort to talk to her, but he had to as the dean of students.
“At least she’s stuck up on Vail Pass right now,” I said. “I feel bad for Ali, though.”
“Me, too. And she feels pretty bad herself.” She showed me a chat with her friend on her phone screen with several lines of capitalized curse words. “They’re at the top of the pass, parked in a lot with only one working bathroom. The highway patrol made them wait there. If they’re lucky, a plow will be able to get through this afternoon and clear off the road.”
As the elevator opened, a mischievous look crossed Veena’s face. She whispered, “Connor’s staying here.”
“How do you know?”
She tipped her head toward the opening door. He stood outside in jeans, a white thermal shirt that showed off his tanned skin, and a smile.
When he was covered in ski clothes, I could ignore how handsome he was. Not so much now. My legs tingled. “Oh. Hi.”
“Hi, Connor,” Veena said as we walked out and he stepped in, passing close. He smelled like soap and olive oil. “Here, Nic, give me the key. I can find the room.”
Eyes still on him, I handed it to her, caught myself, and tried to grab it back. “No, I need to go with you.”
“I’ll find it. You can catch up.” She scurried off.
“Sorry, I need to go.” I followed her.
He put his hand on the door to keep it from closing. “If you have time this afternoon, want to get something to eat? Lots of places we can walk to.”
“I’ll text you. Veena, wait.” She’d gone around the corner already. She shouldn’t be alone—ever. Rushing into the perpendicular hallway, I smacked right into her.
“Ow!” She rubbed her nose.
“Sorry, are you okay?” My eyes swept the corridor. Empty, but there were so many doors on either side. Doors that could hide dozens of kidnappers or killers. “Don’t run off like that.”
“I knew I shouldn’t, that’s why I waited here, but I wanted to give you time to talk to him.”
“I don’t need time to talk to him. I need to keep you safe.” We walked on down the hall, following signs to 411. She swung her water bottle between us.
“Uh huh, sure. I can tell you don’t like him or anything.”
“I can’t afford to like him. You’re my priority.”
“For now. You could do worse than Connor, you know. He’s a nice guy and a good trainer. All the other kids like him; he’s patched a lot of us up.”
“If I get another job, it could be anywhere. After the Olympics, Connor could go anywhere. What do ski patrollers even do in the summer when there’s no snow?”
<
br /> “I don’t know, but you can ask him during your lunch date today.” She sighed. “Sounds romantic. Meet ups for riding lessons, wherever in the world you two are.” She waggled her eyebrows at me, clearly intending a double meaning.
I elbowed her. “I’m not going to lunch with him.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Yes, you are, or I’m calling Dad and telling him you aren’t taking your personal time like you’re supposed to.”
“Fine—I’ll think about it. Speaking of boys . . . is Anders here?”
“Ohh, Anders. My Norwegian future lover. No, but he texted to wish me luck. I’ll see him in Laax.”
With Veena safely to the side, I opened our room to check it. Two beds, a closet, a desk, a love seat and small coffee table. No balcony. I glanced in the bathroom and closet. All clear.
“When do your parents arrive?” I asked.
Veena’s phone made a sound. “Now! They’re in the lobby. C’mon!”
I yanked my jacket back on as she ran out the door. We passed Bart staggering down the hall with our luggage. I offered him the key.
“I have one,” he grumbled.
Veena sprinted down the stairs, me on her heels. As we entered the lobby, she screeched and ran to her parents. Mr. and Ms. Venkatesan smothered her in a hug. Veena’s mother was dressed in black leggings, tall boots with furry tops, and a knee-length coat with a bright silk scarf artfully wrapped around her neck. Mr. Venkatesan wore dark jeans and a sleek puffy jacket.
Two clean-cut guys in jeans and coats stood a few feet away from them, watchful eyes on the door and the rest of the lobby. Brown spoke to a third. The Venkatesans’ security team. I stayed a short distance away, letting Veena have time with her parents. Bart emerged from the elevator two minutes later.
“What’s the plan?” I asked him.
“The other team will take over until Ice and Owl arrive.”
I worried the side of my thumb with a fingernail. “Only three of them?”
“They have more men outside. They’re well covered.” Bart looked me over. “You seem jumpy, Green.”
“I feel jumpy.”
He nodded. “I’ve learned to pay attention to that feeling.”
I thought about it. “Probably nerves about the storm and the move here.”
“Nerves keep you on your toes.”
“My toes are tired.”
He chuckled. “I hear you.”
Veena waved me over.
“Duty calls,” Bart said. “The chief or I will let you know when our team arrives.”
“Got it.” I walked over to Veena and her parents. Brown nodded as I passed. My ribs squeezed my heart with bony fingers seeing Veena between her parents, their arms around her. I wished I had that close a relationship with my own mother. As for my father . . . I’d take any relationship at all.
“Nicole, so nice to see you.” Ms. Venkatesan sounded genuine. Good thing Veena’s bruises had mostly healed. She would’ve fired me on the spot if she’d seen them the day of the accident.
Her father smiled at me. “Veena, we should go. We have lunch reservations.” As they pulled on hats and leather gloves, I spoke to Veena in a low voice.
“Your parents’ security team will take over for the next few hours until our support teams get here, but I’ll be around. You have your tracker?”
She patted her pocket.
“Ready, anbe?”
“Good luck with the interviews,” I said to Veena.
She threw me a save me look. The two guys on the other team followed Veena and her parents outside, where three more joined them. She was well covered, like Bart said.
So why were my instincts screaming not to let her out of my sight?
Thirteen
While uneasy, I was still hungry and thirsty. And I’d learned the hard way that I shouldn’t ignore my body at 10,000 feet. So . . . why eat alone?
I waited until Brown and Bart left the lobby to check in with the rest of the team. Then, I texted Connor.
He came through the main door a few minutes later, snow frosting his wool beanie. His gaze swept the space. When his eyes met mine, liquid warmth spread out from my gut and through my limbs, like I’d swallowed a couple shots of vodka. It was weird, but I felt him over there, as if he was an energy field that only I could detect.
“That was quick,” he said.
“Veena’s having lunch with her parents. They have their own security.” I kept my voice low. “So, what are you doing for lunch?”
“Having it with you, of course.” He put a hand on the small of my back as we walked to the door. The snow on the sidewalk had deepened. As we turned from the dry, protected pavement to snowy, I slipped and he took my arm, steadying me.
“How’s Veena feeling?” he asked.
“Nervous, but happy to see her family.”
He rubbed his cold-red nose. “Nate said she’s pretty anxious.”
Hmm. Connor talked to Nate about Veena a lot. I glanced at him, but it was hard to read his expression in the swirling snow.
My fingers and toes, so warm with electricity, went cold. What was Connor’s interest in her? What was his interest in me? Why was he even here? Didn’t Copper have its own ski patrol and trainers? Was I being paranoid?
If so, I had a reason. For weeks I’d peered around corners and under beds for a boogey man who so far had only sent videos and texts. Did Connor have a simple interest in Veena’s career, like a lot of sports-crazed Americans? Or could it be something more sinister? Lunch with him suddenly seemed less like a guilty pleasure. Brown had checked him out, but if we needed to know something about him, I would discover it.
Copper Mountain had its own little village, not so fancy as Vail’s, but still charming with occasional fire pits and evergreens wrapped in twinkly lights. A few people hurried past ski shops and restaurants, wrapped up in their winter gear. I caught glimpses of people skiing and riding on the mountain through the gauzy fog of the storm.
Connor pointed at a deli. “What about here?”
We ducked inside, loosening our coats and stomping our boots on the wet doormat. A few tables were taken, but we found one by the window.
The waitress took our order. A Reuben for Connor, a BLT for me. Mom used to make a PBLT—the usual stuff plus a thin layer of homemade pesto. My dad’s family recipe, she’d said. I missed that.
Outside, the snow raced by with the wind, let up and drifted, and raced again. Inside, it felt impossibly warm. I avoided Connor’s eyes and studied the other people eating. Why was I so nervous? This wasn’t really a date. Only—it felt like one. And now I was suspicious and confused on top of everything else.
“When did you get here?” I asked.
“Last night.”
“That was smart. We should’ve done that too.”
“At least you made it.”
I swallowed a sip of water, trying to decide how to play this. I could be calculating—flirt with him in an effort to get more information—or direct. I sighed to myself, already knowing the answer. Subtlety wasn’t my style.
I crossed my arms on the table and fixed a neutral expression on my face. “Why are you here, Connor?”
“What do you mean?”
“In Copper. Don’t they have their own ski patrollers here?”
He pulled a face. “That happy to see me, huh?”
“Sorry. Just wondering.”
“The U.S. Team is paying my way as a trainer. If anything needs to be massaged, wrapped, or triaged to the emergency room, I’m their guy.”
“How long have you been interested in medicine?” I cringed. Now I was interviewing him for a job.
“I wasn’t, at first. But I love snowboarding, and I like working with serious athletes. And getting to ride.”
I played with a straw. “You said you grew up riding?”
“I got serious about it when I was around twelve, training after school and on weekends all winter. My dad, brother, and I even built a wooden pipe in our backy
ard so we could train in the summer on skateboards. I had a shot at going pro, but at sixteen I blew out my knee. A couple surgeries later and I gave up that dream.” He shrugged, but I could see it still bothered him.
“I’m sorry. Sounds rough.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Want to know the worst part? I didn’t even hurt it snowboarding. I stepped in a hole while hunting, fell wrong, and tore pretty much everything I could tear in there. I can still ride, but no more tricks or big air. The landings are too hard.”
I kept waiting for something he said not to ring true. “How old is your brother?”
“Aidan? Fifteen.” He pulled out his phone, touched it a few times, and turned the screen toward me. Connor and what must be his parents, a dark-haired man and a blond woman, surrounded a teenaged boy with an impish smile, freckles, and bright red hair.
Showing me his family was a good sign, right? “He looks like trouble.”
He laughed. “He’s always in trouble, although not real trouble, you know? He snowboards, but he’s more interested in picking up girls on the slopes than really devoting himself to it.” He smiled at the picture for a second before putting his phone down. “He thinks he might like to study engineering. I told him he should design halfpipes and terrain parks for ski resorts.”
“Maybe you could help him land a job. Since you work at resorts and have connections and everything.”
He shifted in his seat and straightened his silverware. “Yeah, maybe.”
Why did he look uncomfortable about that?
“Do you have brothers or sisters?” he asked.
Sadness filtered through me, the usual reaction when anyone asked about my family. I’d always wondered if things would have been different if I’d had a sibling. Someone to share the load with the last few years.
“Only my mom and me.”
And I didn’t want to talk about her. Not until I was sure Connor could be trusted. Sitting across from me, an arm on the back of the empty chair next to him, he didn’t look like a double-crossing paramedic-slash-extortionist who happened to snowboard. But that might make him perfect for the job.
