Doug groaned. “I’m sure it was an accident.”
“We still have to investigate,” the sheriff said. He returned to his snowmobile and retrieved a roll of crime scene tape. Connor helped him string it up while Doug transported the doctor to the base area.
“We know Jace was one of the protesters,” Connor told the sheriff. “He said he was just collecting signatures for petitions and attending rallies, but maybe he found out about other plans and threatened to tell. Apparently, he was looking for me this afternoon. He said he needed to tell me something.”
“He trusted you enough to tell you a secret?” the sheriff asked.
“I saved his life. Maybe that was enough for him.”
“Let me know if you find out anything else.” The sheriff glanced at Stacy. “Anything you’d like to update me on?”
“Not yet,” she said. “Soon.” She mentally crossed her fingers.
The sheriff rode away.
“Come on,” Connor said to Stacy. “I’ll give you a lift.”
She stowed her skis alongside his on the snowmobile and climbed on behind him. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and lean against his back but resisted the urge. Instead, she stared out at the empty runs as they made their way back to the base area, fighting images of what this serene area might look like if terrorists unleashed a rain of bombs.
At the ski patrol shack, Connor parked the snowmobile. “How did you get here this afternoon?” he asked.
“I walked over from the condo.” At the time, it had been an enjoyable walk through the swirling snow. Now it was dark, she was chilled through, and the thought of trudging the mile back to where her father waited made her shudder.
“Wait here, and I’ll give you a ride,” he said. He went into the shack and returned moments later with Farley, then led the way through an alley to a small lot where his truck was parked.
She climbed in and fastened her seat belt, then lay her head back and closed her eyes. “I really don’t want to go back to the condo,” she said. “Dad is going to ask a hundred questions, then give me a hundred suggestions for how I could be doing things better.”
“Is he that bad, really?” Connor asked.
“Maybe not.” She looked across at him. They were parked beneath a security light, which bleached his skin of all color and cast deeper circles beneath his eyes. She imagined she looked just as frightful. Farley lay sprawled on the back seat, watching them with alert eyes. “I just don’t want to talk about what I haven’t done enough of or need to do more of,” she said. “I’ve already got that conversation going on in my head without adding to it.”
“Then where would you like to go?” he asked.
She sighed. “Anywhere but to my condo.”
“We could go to my place.”
Just like that, she was where she had been last night, bathed in hot embarrassment, unable to look at him. “I wasn’t hinting at that, I promise. I just…”
“It’s okay,” he said.
“It’s not okay.” She made herself face him, to look into his eyes, though she couldn’t read the expression there. “I’m sorry I put you in that position last night,” she said. “I realize you don’t want me that way. It was very unprofessional of me.”
He leaned across the seat and took her hand. “You’re wrong,” he said.
“I know,” she said. “I was wrong to, um, proposition you that way.” She needed to change the subject. She couldn’t talk about this anymore.
“You’re wrong when you say I don’t want you.” He slid one finger along her jaw and urged her to lift her chin and look at him again. “The problem is I want you so much, it scares me.”
She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a soft, “Oh,” before his lips covered hers.
His lips were warm and supple, firing every nerve in her body. She gripped his forearms, fingers digging in, as he moved his mouth against hers, deepening the kiss, inviting her tongue to tangle with his. Heat spread through her, banishing her previous chill.
He pulled away, just enough to study her. “You okay?”
She nodded, incapable of speech.
He looked down at her fingers, still gripping his jacket. “Want to go to my place now? We can talk, if that’s all you want,” he said.
