Connor looked up to see Stacy leaning in the door of patrol headquarters. His heart did a disconcerting flutter as she moved toward him. He wasn’tunhappyto see her, but she always made him feel off-balance. Not quite himself.
“What’s up?” he asked, then winced at how lame that sounded.
“Do you have any plans for tonight?”
“Sleep?”
“Before that. Say about seven?”
“No, why?”
“Since I didn’t make it to the Trail’s End over the weekend, I thought I’d try tonight. Want to come with me?”
“Are you asking me out?”
She flushed. Her cheeks actually turned a bright pink. It made her look younger. Vulnerable. “I’m going to hang out there for a while and see if I run into anyone who was at the protestors’ meeting Friday. I’m trying to get a line on who might be Shane’s silent helpers.”
“What do you need me for?” he asked.
“I don’tneedyou for anything, but I thought you might like to come with me. And two sets of eyes are always better than one. Besides, people remember you. You’re the man who works for ski patrol.”
“The traitor to the corporation,” he said.
“Is that what you feel like—a traitor?”
“No.” He shut the lid of his laptop. “I’ll go with you.”
She smiled, and that dizzy, off-center feeling hit again. Maybe he was coming down with something.
The door opened, and George strolled in. Today he wore an acid-green ski suit, like a walking hazard sign.
“Dad!” Stacy said. “What are you wearing?”
He looked down at the suit and grinned. “It was free at the local swap box. Can you believe it?”
“That it was free, yes,” she said. “That you took it—no.”
“I think it’s great,” George said. “No one will miss me on the slopes.” He looked from her to Connor. “What are you two up to?”
“What makes you think we’re up to anything?” Stacy asked.
“Because you both look like you got caught with your hands in the cookie jar.” He rapped a fist on Connor’s desk. “Want to take a few runs together?”
“Sorry, George. I have to get over to the terrain park. They’re resetting it for a competition later in the week.”
“I should try that out some time,” George said. “Do some rails, try some jumps.”
Stacy groaned. “Dad!”
George shook his head. “If you think your embarrassment is going to stop me from doing anything, you’re sadly mistaken.” He looked at Connor. “I’ve been making a fool of myself in front of women for fifty years. The difference is that now I’m too old to care.”
Connor stood. “I’d better get to work. And I need to lock up.”
George turned to Stacy. “How about you? Want to ski with me?”
“No rails or jumps,” she said.
“We’ll take it nice and easy,” George said. “I won’t do anything to embarrass you.”
