by Dani Collins
Sky and Bruno were escorting the last group back to the lodge along with Murphy. Trigg stayed behind. Nate was working and Trigg wanted to make sure there weren’t any concerns that couldn’t wait until Monday. Nate looked like he was simply unpacking and setting up his office after their move from the trailer, but Trigg wouldn’t mind an hour to do that himself. He also had a metric crap-ton of emails to read and answer. He wanted to stay on top of that since he would be receiving all of Rolf’s correspondence while he and Glory were off-grid.
Nate was still in his own office when Trigg got up there, but aside from distant hammering, the operations building was quiet. Chivonne was away at an intensive project-scheduling course. Orin was traveling to a string of job fairs and the rest of the staff were taking the only summer vacation they were likely to get.
“I thought you had Aiden until Sunday,” Trigg said.
“Ilke twisted her ankle on her run. Wants to rest it and ice it.”
“Oh, shit.”
“She’s being over-cautious, making sure it doesn’t turn into anything. I think she just wanted to watch The Fox and The Hound. Aiden looked like he would fall asleep so I thought I’d see what I could get done around here.”
“You know that sounds like your sex tape, right?”
“At least I have one.”
The fact he wasn’t getting laid was at the top of his mind for Trigg. He’d give almost anything to see what sparks would fly between him and Wren if he could do it without screwing up the tentative relationship he was building with his daughter.
“How’s your ankle?” Trigg asked. “Can you walk?” He couldn’t sit down and read freaking emails. “I saw a few things on my tour we should talk about.”
Nate rose and shrugged on his reflective vest. They caught up with Devon swinging a hammer in the day lodge and asked her to join them as they finished their checkup on the various buildings, skipping the future spa because his mother still had people polishing and primping in there. They found a few small issues, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed or caught up fairly quickly.
When they got back to the operations building, Nate started a fresh pot of coffee in the new drip brewer in the staff room. He had even stocked the fridge with leftover creamers from the wedding reception.
“You’re spoiling me.”
Nate shrugged it off. “The caterers were going to throw them out.”
“My marriage proposal still stands.”
“Find a girl your size. This one’s taken.”
“I don’t know what Ilke has that I don’t.” Trigg blew across his mug.
“Me. Pay attention.”
Trigg chuckled, thinking, This is good. Not just the banter over fresh coffee, but the kitchen, the building, the progress they were making. His dream taking shape. The fact they hadn’t found any major problems on their walk.
“With so much going on around here, and Rolf leaving, I was worried we would come across a nightmare today.” Of all the responsibilities Trigg was taking on while Rolf was gone, preventing a major incident was priority one.
“I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop, too. Maybe the townies are finally getting the message this resort is a good thing.”
“Has it been the townies, though? Or Basco? Seems a big coincidence that since we called him out, we haven’t had another incident.”
Nate acknowledged that with a tilt of his head. “Maybe that’s an end to it. Sure be nice if it was.”
“Amen.”
“Trigg?” Wren’s voice was a dart gun of aphrodisiac, spreading instant heat through him.
He turned to see she had changed out of her smart, tailored uniform into a pair of Wikinger yoga pants in shades of purple and pink. They clung like paint and ended below her knees. His hands itched to smooth over that slippery fabric and test the suppleness of her thighs. Her shins were bare, her feet in a pair of flip-flops similar to the ones all the women had been wearing from the swag bags. They had colored soles and sparkly white straps that underlined her toes, drawing his eye to the fresh, pink polish.
He dragged his gaze up. Her loose shirt read, Heavily Meditated. Its ragged bottom hung across her hips and its oversized armholes revealed the sides of her blue sports bra. Her hair was in its ponytail, her face clean of makeup, but anxious.
His heart lurched. “What’s wrong? Is Sky okay?”
“I thought she was here with you, having a tour.”
“She went back to the lodge.”
“She’s probably fine. I’ve been in the spa, getting my mani-pedi.” She held up her hands to show him the half-moons on her baby-pink fingernails. “This isn’t about her. Do you have a minute?” She glanced at Nate. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure…”
“I’ll be in my office,” Nate said, shooting Trigg a glance loaded with speculation.
“Let’s go to mine.” Trigg led the way and shut the door. “What’s up?”
She stopped in the middle of the room and turned, brow a landscape of worry. “I think one of your board members, Torsten, is working with Dirk Basco. And has been for a long time.”
*
Trigg didn’t move. He stood by the door, arms folded. After a beat, he said quiet and dangerous, “Why do you say that?”
She didn’t expect him to believe her. Not right away. She definitely hadn’t wanted to be the messenger. She was nervous, instinctively wanting to weave her hands together only to remember her fresh polish. She splayed her fingers and dropped her hands to her sides.
“I was at the spa.” Obviously. “The nail tech, Rhonda, does your mom’s nails in town. She organized all of the girls who came out to work this week.”
He nodded, impatient for her to get to the point.
“There’s a lot to unpack.” She’d been sitting there for almost three hours feeling as though she was watching more and more explosives getting tamped into the barrel. “I don’t think anyone realized I was Sky’s aunt or the manager. They knew all the appointments today were lodge staff, which is why they were talking so freely. Rhonda said they’ve been on their best behavior with all the guests because she could tell a lot of them thought they were a bunch of hicks who didn’t know what they were doing. Then this other woman—I think her name is Jess or Jessie—she said, ‘We are hicks,’ and talked about how she and her brother used to sneak out of their grandparents’ house to come up to the abandoned lodge to party, when they were in high school. Her grandfather owns the gravel pit.” Wren pointed, but she was all turned around and realized she was pointing toward the lodge.
“Petersen,” Trigg said, and went to open the door. “Nate. You should hear this. Start again,” Trigg said, moving to lean his hips on his desk while Nate closed the door.
She caught him up then continued. “Rhonda said Jess should tell her grandfather to sell the gravel pit to the resort. Jess said there was no way he would, because he hates Dirk Basco and believes he’s the reason the previous owners of this hill had to sell. And he blames Wikinger for not rebuilding after the avalanche. Thinks it was an insurance scam and blames Wikinger and Basco for Haven being such a ghost town all these years.”
Trigg shook his head. “The hill hadn’t opened for the season when Dad bought it. They were already broke. He asked the previous owners to stay on and run it, but they took the money and moved away. Dirk suggested leaving it closed until the spring so he could upgrade the day lodge. It was supposed to open for spring skiing, but the avalanche happened before they could do that.”
“Jess said her grandfather was close with the previous owners. Basco was pressing them to sell to him. He was doing little things to make it harder and harder for them to hang on to it.”
“We heard some things like that. Basco was on the board of the credit union and their loan extension was denied. Stuff like that. How does Torsten fit in?”
“Wait. About the avalanche… Her grandfather volunteered with the ski patrol back then. He says the snowpack was high that year, but the risk was low.
People were sledding and cross-country skiing up there even though the hill was closed. But it just so happens that the day the hill was empty, there was an avalanche. She said everyone was in town for Nordic Days. I don’t know what that is.”
“A festival in town. Happens in March,” Nate said. “Funny how we had that fire when everyone was in town for last year’s Fourth of July fireworks. And the theft happened when everyone went to town for Suzanne’s funeral.”
“Insurance should have been able to tell if the avalanche was deliberate,” Trigg said. “There’d be powder stains on the snow. How else do you start an avalanche?”
Nate shook his head. “I’d say running across it with your snowmobile would do it, but it sounds like they were already doing that. I could ask… What was his name?” Nate snapped his fingers. “Gerald. That geophysicist we had out here last year.”
“Call Kurt, too. Ask him if he ever heard these rumors of the avalanche being deliberate. Eden’s dad,” Trigg explained to her. “Chief of police.”
Nate nodded and left.
“Kurt might not have heard it. Jess’s family moved away years ago because her dad needed work. She only came back because Rhonda asked her to help with the wedding. Now she’s thinking of moving back here because the hill is going to open and the town will get busy again.”
“And Torsten?”
“Right. So Rhonda said she used to do Mrs. Basco’s hair, before she left Dirk and moved to Missoula. Rhonda said his wife was stressed out after your dad swooped in and bought the hill because Dirk was losing his shit about it. Jess said her grandfather calls Dirk a vulture because Dirk was driving the price to rock bottom, thinking no one else would be interested. The owners of the ski hill basically sold on the spot to your dad as a giant F.U. to Dirk. That’s when your mom walked in with Torsten.”
“Into the spa? Today? You’re sure it was him?”
A fair question. All the board members seemed to be later-aged men with salt-and-pepper hair, so it was easy to confuse them.
“I danced with him last night. His wife is the one who shows you photos of her horses and does dressage, right? He’s your CFO? Because I got the impression your mom was showing him the spa so he would see the different ways the resort would be financially viable, especially because she wants it to be open year-round.”
Trigg winced and rubbed his jaw. “I don’t disagree with her. We need all the reasons we can dream up for the filthy rich to come here, but we simply don’t have the resources to get that off the ground this year. How did he react?”
“Skeptical. But it’s concrete floors and a couple of pedicure chairs right now.”
Vivien had painted a picture of soothing colors, burbling table fountains, massage rooms full of physiotherapists who specialized in sports injuries and a menu of services that included all the latest mud baths, sugar scrubs and salt glows.
“Rhonda made a joke about how Vivien was trying to steal her town business and you could have heard a pin drop. They left and Rhonda goes, ‘That fucking guy.’”
“She recognized him?” Trigg dropped his hands to the edge of his desk, on either side of his hips and leaned forward, eyebrows shooting into his hairline.
“He’s been bringing women to Haven for years. Rhonda says that’s how she knows it’s spring. Dirk calls and acts like a big shot. ‘Rhonda, sweetheart, my partner is in town. Can you fit his ‘lady friend’ in today while we talk business?’ Then Torsten drops off a twenty-something and Rhonda goes to work on her.”
Trigg closed one eye in a wince. “It’s no secret he enjoys younger women.”
“Ick. And I danced with him? I thought he was just being nice. Does his wife know?”
“Mom says things like, ‘I don’t know why she puts up with it,’ so yeah. Pretty sure she knows.”
Gross, but Wren only scratched her cheek, relieved she didn’t have to torture herself over whether to bring this up with the man’s wife.
“Well, Rhonda said she hasn’t seen him since Rolf showed up to start work on the resort.”
“Interesting.”
“Is there a legitimate reason he would have come here every year? Like, to check on the property or whatever? Maybe this was just his secret getaway for his affairs.”
“He’s been our CFO since Dad’s time. Closed the deal on the original purchase and came with us when we flew in last January with Marvin. He also came out to inspect after the avalanche and I know he was here for the insurance investigation. He lobbied hard afterward to keep the payout and sell the hill, rather than invest in rebuilding.”
“Maybe he helped Dirk cover up that the avalanche was deliberate?”
“Maybe. At the time, it looked like taking the insurance money was sound financial advice. Wikinger was over-extended from the purchase. Mom almost caved to the pressure from the board to sell. Then Rolf got married and had a lot more say in how things were run. I told him I’d kill him if he unloaded this property, then we both medaled in Vancouver. Stock in Wikinger went—” He thumbed upward. “The board backed off and this real estate sat on the books until Rolf retired from racing and I started pushing him to rebuild it.”
Wren frowned. “How did Rolf getting married give him more say?”
“The way Dad structured Wikinger, we get a seat at the table when we marry or turn thirty. Dad’s father had the same philosophy, that a man with mouths to feed makes more practical decisions than the average twenty-something bachelor. I turn thirty in August and the board is already on notice that Rolf and I will clean house if they aren’t fully behind Whiskey Jack by then.”
Nate came back. “That was enlightening.” He closed the door. “I left a message for Kurt, but Gerald pointed out the land use agreement here includes mining.”
“For copper,” Trigg said. “We’ve always known that. It played out years ago. That’s why it was turned into a ski hill. Dad had a gentlemen’s agreement with the previous owners not to reopen the mine.” Trigg looked to Wren. “That’s how we understood the deal, that they sold to Dad because he planned to develop the hill for winter sports, not mining.”
“What do you know about molybdenum?” Nate asked.
“Couldn’t even spell it,” Trigg said.
“It’s used to harden stainless steel,” Wren said. “It’s also heat resistant. Good for cars and planes.”
“How the hell do you know that?” Trigg demanded.
She shrugged. “School project in grade nine.”
“Well, guess what can be mined as a byproduct of copper?” Nate asked. “Production is actually on the rise.”
“And Gerald said we have some?”
“Enough to make it profitable to mine the remaining copper at a loss. He told Rolf last year, but Rolf said he doesn’t want to move mountains, he wants to ski down them.”
“Ditto.” Trigg folded his arms and crossed his ankles. “And Kurt went down this avenue. Literally. The houses Basco bought are on the road that runs to the gravel pit. Kurt wondered if he was trying to revive the thermal energy project, but Basco simply doesn’t have that kind of money. Not enough to open a copper mine, either.”
“What if he has a silent partner in Torsten?” Wren asked.
“That’s a huge conflict of interest.” Trigg narrowed his eyes to dangerous slits.
“Why would Dirk let you get this far with building the resort without challenging you sooner?” Wren asked. “Why was he even working for you on this project?”
“Because we were paying him. A lot,” Nate said. “He’s probably been waiting for Torsten to turn this around at the board level, not wanting to tip his hand about the mine.”
“And Torsten has been working that angle, trying to get Rolf to sell rather than rebuild. He’s got to be in bed with Dirk or he would have mentioned the mining potential years ago. The prick.” Trigg gave Wren a long look of reassessment. Then he abruptly pushed off the desk and came right at her, cupped her face and planted a single, loud kiss on her startled mouth. �
��Thank you.”
A jolt of pure, electric power went through her, as much from the energy crackling off him as the sexual attraction between them. She jerked back in surprise, fingertips going onto her tingling mouth as she blushed in reaction.
“I just sat there and listened.” Actually, she had had to surreptitiously work the conversation back a few times when talk digressed to gossip about people she didn’t know, jewelry parties, and recipes for quick casseroles.
“Then you brought it to me, you little sleeper agent, you.”
She sent a flustered look toward Nate. He was giving the corner of the ceiling a hard study.
“Nate, try Kurt again. See if he has time to chat today. I’m going to catch Torsten before he leaves.”
*
“Have you talked to Rolf?” his mother asked when Trigg caught up to her as she was dressing for dinner.
He was crackling with temper after a catching Torsten at the airport in Kalispell, then repeating their conversation to Kurt.
“It’s not a death in the family. Pretty sure it can wait until he’s back in Cape Town. He might have to detour through Berlin on his way home, but I don’t want him to miss his honeymoon.” Trigg helped himself to his mother’s bottle of schnapps. “Even if Torsten goes to the board and confesses he’s been trying to brew a deal with Dirk Basco for the last fifteen years, they can’t move on it. Not without Rolf’s approval. So…”
Torsten had pointed the finger at Dirk for all the thefts and vandalism, saying the American had acted alone. Torsten had come here on Dirk’s invitation every year, though, allowing Dirk to wine and dine him toward a mining deal. He swore no money had changed hands. Kurt was doing what he could to verify that.