“I wouldn’t have minded.” He glanced down at her and grinned. “This afternoon has been the most fun I’ve had in weeks. Sharing it with you made the day even better.”
When his hand fell away, she adjusted her pole straps. “I’m not exactly in your league.”
“You’re not half bad. Your technique could use a little work, but overall… What the hell?”
Hannah glanced up. “What’s wrong?”
“Two people on the final occupied chair—shit! Did you see that?”
Something dark against the sky plummeted toward the ground then disappeared from view.
She pressed a hand to her lips. “Oh, my God, did someone just fall off that chair?”
“Looked like it. Or the person was pushed. Movement on the chair attracted my attention in the first place. They could have been fighting, or maybe it was kids goofing around.” He turned and shoved off. “Let’s go.”
Heart thumping, Hannah followed as best she could, but Tripp was flying across the snow. When he skied out of sight, she bit her lip and stopped near an outcropping of rocks. “Tripp?”
“I’m down here.”
She sidestepped up to the rocks and peered over the top. Tripp stood a short distance away, hands fisted on his hips.
He waved toward the chairlift moving silently high above them. “The skier would have fallen right down there into those rocks, but I don’t see anything.”
“Maybe he’s buried in the snow. Shouldn’t we call ski patrol?”
“I want to give them an exact location, if I can. Anyway, we’re a hell of a lot closer. I’ll head down to check it out.”
“Tripp! You can’t ski between those rocks.”
He glanced back at her. “Sure, I can.”
“Your shoulder—”
“If the person who fell is still alive, time is critical. You can ski down to the lift shack and tell the attendant to radio for help. That’ll be faster than calling 9-1-1. I’ll meet you down there as soon as I can.”
“Okay, but, be careful.”
Hannah’s legs shook as she sidestepped a few yards to get back onto the run before heading down the mountain, skiing with caution in the fading light. She sure wouldn’t get there any faster if she took a tumble. When she reached the lift shack, the little building was deserted, but a snowboard leaned against one wall. She called out then stood with her fists planted on her hips, waiting for a response. Where the hell had the attendant gone? If his radio was still in the shack, maybe…
When a swoosh sounded above her, heart in her throat, she spun around on her skis. “What the…?”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Not the attendant. Tripp.
Relief filled her, and she let out a breath. “Did you find the skier?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. Not a damn thing but a sunken spot in the snow and some track marks that could have been made any time since the last storm.”
Hannah frowned. “Do you think whoever fell off the chair got up and skied away?”
“I don’t see how. That was a hell of a long drop. He would have broken half the bones in his body on those rocks.” Tripp glanced toward the shack. “Where’s the attendant?”
“No one’s here. I was going to go check for a radio when you showed up.”
“Let’s… Hey, where the hell have you been?”
A uniformed man, probably in his early twenties, tromped through the snow out of a nearby stand of trees. An unmistakable odor clung to him.
“What’s the problem? I was…uh…taking a leak.”
“More like smoking a joint,” Tripp muttered. He waited for the man to reach them before speaking again. “We saw someone fall off the last occupied chair.”
The man’s brown eyes widened. “Shit. No way! Did you call for help?”
“Not yet. I went looking for a body but didn’t find anything.”
The kid’s shoulders slumped. “It’s pretty dark. Maybe the last guy dropped his board or something. That could be what you saw.”
“I don’t think so. There were two people on the chair.”
He scratched the scraggly beard decorating his chin. “You sure? The last two chairs I loaded were singles.”
“I noticed the two singles then a good-sized gap before the final chair.” Tripp glanced over at Hannah. “Right?”
She nodded. “I think so. I wasn’t really looking until you yelled.”
“Maybe you were mistaken. If you didn’t find anyone…” The attendant shrugged.
Tripp pressed his lips tight. “I wasn’t seeing things. Did you get a good look at the last skiers?”
“They were both boarders, I think. I was on my phone and not paying much attention. Then I headed into the woods to, uh…pee.”
Tripp snorted. “Terrific.”
“I’ll report what you saw to ski patrol. Where do you think this guy fell?”
Hannah turned away while Tripp gave him specific details. Above them, a hint of movement in the trees caught her attention. A frown drew her brows together. Maybe she’d imagined that flash of blue.
She nudged Tripp’s elbow. “I thought I saw someone in blue up there.”
The lift op glanced up the slope. “Maybe a skier crossing through on Champs Elysees? No one’s up there now. Are you sure?”
Tripp stared toward the trees. “If someone was up there, he must have headed over toward Red Dog. I’m going to haul ass down to the bottom to see if I can catch him. Maybe it’s the person who was on that final chair.”
“Fine, but you’d better stick around to talk to ski patrol after you do. They’ll want a firsthand account.”
He glanced at the attendant and nodded. “Sure. Let’s go, Hannah.”
Hannah quit trying to keep up with Tripp’s breakneck pace after the first twenty seconds. The cold breeze stung her cheeks as she focused on where she was going and breathed a sigh of relief when the steep terrain level out. As she approached the bottom of the hill, she searched for Tripp’s neon-green helmet. He was standing near the gondola, talking to a woman who carried a snowboard. As Hannah skied up, the boarder walked away, headed toward the village.
“Any luck?”
He wiggled his gloved hand back and forth. “Carrie was on the chairlift. I’ve met her before at local parties.”
“Did she see what happened?”
“She confirmed another boarder was riding the lift behind her, but he wasn’t anyone she knew, and he flew by her on the way down. Brown jacket, no helmet, dreadlocks. He wasn’t around when she reached the bottom. Carrie also mentioned she glanced back once when she was approaching the top of the mountain and saw a skier quite a ways down the line of chairs.”
Hannah’s pulse beat a little faster. “Skier, singular?”
“Yeah, it must have been after the other guy—”
“Or woman.”
“I suppose so.” Tripp blew out a breath in the cold air. “Anyway, it must have been after the other person had already fallen.”
“Did she see the skier after he got off the lift?”
“Just from a distance. He wore a black jacket and helmet. She was pretty sure it was a guy from his height and the way he moved, but she wasn’t close enough to make out any details. He didn’t pass her on the way down.”
Hannah glanced around at the few remaining skiers still on the snow. Two women and a man laughed together near the gondola. A lone man wearing a rust-colored jacket headed toward the parking lot. Two employees in uniform called back and forth as they glided toward the children’s ski center.
“If the man in black came down off the mountain, he didn’t hang around. Who knows, maybe he went to report the incident.”
“There’s no one in a blue jacket, either, if that’s what you saw up there.” Tripp snapped out of his skis. “I guess we should head over to the patrol office. Maybe it was just a backpack.”
“What was?” Hannah pushed down on
the binding release then stepped out of her ski.
“The object we saw fall. Maybe the guy in the black jacket dropped his backpack. He could have been struggling to take it off while he was on the chair. That could have been what caught my attention, but I could swear…”
She straightened, holding her skis. “It sure looked bigger than a backpack to me.”
He met her gaze. “Nothing else makes any sense.”
A little shiver worked its way down her spine. “I’d rather believe that than think we saw someone die.”
“No kidding.”
He headed across the snow. Resting her skis on her shoulder, Hannah fell into step beside him. “After all that drama, how do you feel?”
“My shoulder aches a bit, but not too bad.”
“I hope you didn’t reinjure it. Damn, I was an idiot to agree to this.” She huffed out a breath. “You made me feel sorry for you, so I shelved my better judgment.”
“I…” He stopped and pointed. “Over there. Do you see them?”
Hannah squinted through the gloom toward the parking lot. Headlights flashed, briefly illuminating two men at the rear of a van, one in a black jacket, one in royal blue.
“Shit!” Tripp took a few running steps then stopped.
Doors slammed, and an engine started. The van moved through a scattering of cars, taillights gleaming red before it turned toward the road out of the valley.
Hannah caught up to Tripp. “The man in blue had a beard. I didn’t get a look at the other guy. Did you recognize either of them?”
He shook his head. “No. I didn’t see the second man’s face. There’s no way to catch them now.”
She pulled her phone from her pocket. “We can call 9-1-1. Maybe a patrol car could stop the van.”
“For what reason?” Tripp turned away as the taillights vanished. “We saw something fall off a chairlift. That’s it. No dead body turned up, so there’s no crime to report.”
She tucked her phone back into her pocket. “When you put it like that…” A long sigh slipped out. “Let’s go talk to ski patrol then head home. All of a sudden, I’m exhausted.”
“A few hours ago, I was bored out of my mind and looking for a little excitement. I guess I got more than I bargained for.”
Hannah stared into the dark night as a chill shook her. “You know what they say. Be careful what you wish for.”
Chapter 4
Tripp leaned back in the booth with a chilled mug of beer and studied Hannah across the table. She pressed her lips together in a tight line. Those strong hands that could knead muscle in the most painfully wonderful way fidgeted with her napkin, twisting and folding it into squares. Not exactly a kickoff to the intimate evening he’d hoped for when he’d suggested dinner out. That option had been shot to hell when she refused to consider anything but a quick burger at the Bridgetender on their way home. As usual on a Friday night, a crowd of locals packed the bar. At least a dozen people had hailed them while they walked to their table in the back. Nope, romance definitely wasn’t on the menu tonight.
“What’s worrying you?”
She glanced up from mutilating the napkin. “I keep seeing that dark figure falling through the air. Ugh, how awful would it be, knowing you were going to die for the few seconds it would take before hitting the ground?” Golden eyes darkened. “Don’t you think the person would have screamed or yelled or something? Surely we would have heard them.”
“Maybe it really was just a snowboard or a backpack or a ski bag. No one reported an accident, and ski patrol seemed to think we’d lost our collective minds since they found absolutely nothing up on the hill to substantiate our story. Their theory is some other skier picked up whatever fell. If we didn’t imagine the whole thing.”
“I guess…if that something was a dead body.”
Tripp laid his free hand over hers and squeezed. “Don’t think about it.” He glanced up as the waitress approached carrying two plates then pulled back his arm. “Just enjoy your burger.”
The pretty brunette set down their dinners and gave him a slow smile. “Anything else I can get for you, Tripp? Just name it.”
Hannah rolled her eyes.
He took a sip of his beer. “No, I think we’re good. Thanks, Mindy.”
“You’re welcome.” She strolled away, hips swaying.
“Does every woman in Tahoe under the age of thirty know you?”
He popped a fry into his mouth. “Maybe not all the married ones.”
Hannah picked up her burger. “Why did I even ask?”
“Dare I hope because you care about me…just a little?”
She took a bite and chewed, obviously giving his comment due consideration before she swallowed then spoke. “Sure, I do. In the same way I care about Griff and Sawyer. You’re my best friend’s brother. Watching you get buried in that avalanche was…troubling.”
He snorted. “I don’t believe you.”
“That’s because you think you’re God’s gift to women.”
He couldn’t suppress a shout of laughter. Heads swiveled in their direction.
“Tripp? Hey, it is you.” Jake Abernathy stepped up to the end of the booth. “I was going to give you a call in the morning. You look better.”
As usual, Jake’s dark blond hair was pulled back in a man bun, and he hadn’t shaved in at least a week. He leaned against the corner of the booth and crossed his arms over the ski jacket covered with his sponsor’s logos.
“Better than half dead in the hospital, which is how you saw me last? I would hope so. When did you get back into town?”
“I flew in this morning after the competition in Utah. Took second. I’m on a roll. Laird won the damn thing with one of your tricks, but he probably wouldn’t have if you’d been around since you do it better.”
“Congrats.” Tripp glanced across the table at Hannah. “Jake Abernathy, meet Hannah Ryder. Hannah’s my physical therapist and an old family friend. She’s going to have me whipped into shape in no time, and I’ll be back on the circuit to kick your ass.”
“You can try.” Jake held out a hand. “Nice to meet you. How come all my old family friends look like the couple in American Gothic? Not fair.”
Hannah grinned. “Pleased to meet you, too. You aren’t competing this weekend?”
“I’m taking a break. I figured if Tripp could laze around doing nothing…”
“I’ll have you know I was up on the ski hill a few hours ago, scaring up more excitement than we were looking for.”
Jake grabbed a chair from an unoccupied table and pulled it up to the end of the booth. “So, the rumors floating around are true? A couple of regulars at the bar told me you saw someone murdered out on the mountain. Then another guy countered with ski patrol’s version of events, that you’d taken one knock on the head too many and were seeing things. Knowing how stories get exaggerated, I figured both versions were a load of crap.”
Tripp thumped down his beer mug. “People are talking already?”
“Appears so. What happened?”
Hannah dropped her burger back onto her plate as her face lost some of its color.
Tripp spoke quickly. “We don’t have to discuss it while we’re eating.”
She waved a hand. “You might as well tell him. I’m going to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.”
His brow furrowed. “Hannah?”
“I’m fine.” A weak smile curled her lips as she slid out of the booth. “Really.”
Tripp wasn’t so sure.
“She didn’t look fine,” Jake commented as Hannah disappeared into the crowd.
His attention snapped back to his friend. “No, she didn’t. Hannah’s taking this whole situation a little harder than I am.”
Jake propped one elbow on the table and stole a fry off Tripp’s plate. “Taking what, exactly?”
“We saw someone fall off a chairlift. Or get pushed.” Tripp bit into his burger, che
wed then swallowed. “Unless it was a large object instead of a person. No dead body down below. I looked.”
“Wow.”
“Ski patrol is going with the theory that it was just a bag…or my imagination. I can’t believe news has already spread.”
“A Squaw lift op was in here earlier, said he was manning Oly Lady when the shit hit the fan—or in this case, the snow.”
“So, half the town knows by now.” Tripp ran a hand through his hair. “We saw the guy who was left on the chairlift, along with another man, leave the parking lot at Squaw afterward. I’d recognize the one dude if I saw him again. Too bad no one cares since there’s apparently no crime to report.”
Jake took another fry. “Do you really think someone fell?”
“At this point, I don’t know what to believe.” Tripp let out a long breath. “I do know the impact would have killed him. Whatever dropped from that chair landed on rocks. I hope the guy was just throwing a backpack down to his buddy and not committing murder.”
“Makes more sense than a disappearing body.”
“Agreed.” He paused with the last of his burger halfway to his mouth. “Here comes Hannah. No more morbid talk, okay?”
“Sure.” Jake rose to his feet and returned the chair to the adjacent table. “Looks like my date just walked in. I’ll catch you later.”
“See you around.”
Hannah smiled at Jake as they passed before resuming her seat. “Your friend had to leave?”
Tripp nodded. “Eat your burger. It’s getting cold.”
She glanced down at her plate with a visible lack of enthusiasm. “I’m not very hungry.”
“I don’t care. Eat.”
She took a small bite. “Who are you, your mom?”
He grinned. “Mine, not yours?”
“Mine always told me not to eat so much. She wasn’t exactly mother-of-the-year material. That’s why I enjoyed hanging out with your family on school breaks. The whole Wilde clan was fun and non-judgmental.”
Her tone was matter-of-fact without a hint of self-pity. He figured commiseration on her family situation was a little late at this point. “Does she still live in Tahoe? You grew up here, right?”
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