This time someone answered on the third ring. “What’s going on?” Doug Elam, SkyCrest Resort’s director of operations, sounded awake and alert.
“We’ve got a problem,” Connor said. “A big one.”
Sheriff Van Howard’sthick moustache was touched with frost as he stood in the gray dawn behind the munitions magazine. Snowflakes dusted the shoulders of his shearling jacket and that of the blue parka Doug Elam wore. Both men scowled at Connor, who scowled right back. Whatever had led to this breach of security, they weren’t going to pin this on him.
“When was the last time you checked the magazine?” Howard asked.
“Two days ago. And everything was fine then.”
“You said the dog pointed this out to you?” Doug asked.
“Yes, sir. Farley knew immediately something wasn’t right.” Connor looked down at the dog, who looked up at him with the face of a kid’s teddy bear. “He was with me two days ago and acted fine, so I know this happened since then. Plus, you can see here where someone cleared away the snow from this area so they could cut into the wall.” He indicated the thin snow cover on the ground around the hole.
“What exactly did they take?” Howard asked.
“I’ll have to do a complete count to be certain, but from the gap they left, I’d say at least four boxes of cast boosters, twenty-four to a box. Probably some detonators, too.”
The sheriff sucked his teeth. “What kind of damage could all that do?” he asked.
“You could bring down a whole mountain with that much explosive, set in the right places,” Connor said.
Doug groaned. “Tell me this was just kids,” he said. “Maybe they thought they were stealing fireworks.”
“You and I both know that’s not the case,” Howard said.
Doug looked pained. “Then who? Who does something like this?”
“Somebody who wants to take down a mountain,” Howard said. He glanced at Connor. “You know any of this bunch that’s been protesting the resort expansion?”
Connor tensed, a dull ache pounding in his skull. “I don’tknowany of them. I’ve seen the signs around town and read stuff in the papers.”
SkyCrest was petitioning the National Forest Service to be able to expand lift-served operations onto six hundred additional acres on Blaine Mountain, adjacent to the resort’s current licensed operation.
“Only a very small group of people oppose the expansion,” Doug said. “Most people see what a good thing it will be for the area—more jobs, more terrain to relieve crowding, more cash for the town coffers.”
“Sure, but it’s also taking away a whole section of backcountry terrain people now recreate on for free,” Connor said. He probably should have kept his mouth shut, but he didn’t like the idea of anyone thinking he let the resort make his opinions for him.
“You sound like you’re on their side,” the sheriff said.
“I can see things both ways.” Connor glanced at the hole in the building. “But I don’t condone anything like this. This is wrong. And dangerous.”
“Have you had any other problems at the resort?” Howard asked Doug.
Doug’s shoulders lifted and lowered. “Just minor stuff. Signs tacked up around the place. A bunch of lift chairs chained together one morning. Nothing like this.” He stared at the hole in the magazine building, lower lip thrust out.
“Okay. Well, since explosives are missing and this happened on federal land, we’ll have to call in the feds.”
Doug’s complexion went a shade paler. “ATF?”
“I don’t know,” Howard said. “I’ll report the theft, and they can decide who to send.”
“Just what we need,” Connor said.
“What’s your problem?” Doug asked.
Connor shook his head. “Don’t mind me. I just had enough of government bureaucracy in the army.” He checked his watch. “Right now we need to get this building sealed up, and I’ve got a bunch of terrain to mitigate before the lifts run.”
“I’ll get a security guard over here to watch the place until law enforcement is done,” Doug said. “Then maintenance can do something about the hole.”
