“They probably want you to return to Denver,” George said. “Or maybe you’ll be told to assist Agent Anthony.”
Stacy scowled, then looked at Connor. “Remember I told you some in the FBI think female agents should limit themselves to transcribing interviews and making coffee? Anthony is one of them.”
“How does he get away with that in this day and age?” George asked.
“He’s got bosses willing to look the other way,” she said.
“We just need to figure out how to outsmart him,” George said.
“Damien Anthony may be a horrible chauvinist, but he isn’t stupid,” she said.
“When he came to the condo looking for you, I told him you were undercover at the moment, and I didn’t know how to get in touch with you,” George said.
“That was quick thinking.” Connor stood to get more coffee.
“That was lying,” Stacy said. “And he’s going to find out it’s a lie as soon as he learns that I was at the resort today—both after the avalanche and after Jace’s body was found.”
“You went undercover tonight.” George slid his mug forward for a refill. “Because you had a lead on who was responsible for the theft of those explosives.”
“But I don’t have a lead. That’s the whole problem.”
“What happened when you and Connor visited Shane?” George asked. “I want more details than you blew me off with when you came home that night.”
“He said he wanted Connor to help him with a fireworks show on Martin Luther King weekend,” Stacy said. “Then he showed us boxes of fireworks in his garage.”
“Was anyone else with him?”
“There could have been someone in another part of the house,” Connor said. “But we didn’t meet anyone else.”
“He lives on a ranch, right? Big property, lots of land and outbuildings?”
“I guess so,” Stacy said. “We didn’t get a tour, and it was too dark to see much.”
“We need to go back to Shane’s house and look around,” George said. “Maybe fireworks aren’t the only explosives at the place.”
“We don’t have a warrant,” Stacy said.
“If we see anything interesting, we’ll leave it there and figure out how to get a warrant.”
“Dad, there are so many ways that could go wrong.”
“I think George is right,” Connor said. “When I was in the Rangers, sometimes we had to go a little out of bounds to get the results we needed.”
“I don’t even want to hear this.” She clapped her hands over her ears.
George leaned across the table toward her. “If we go out to Shane’s house and find evidence to implicate him in the thefts, you’ll have solved the case and Anthony can go back to making his own coffee,” he said.
She lowered her hands to the table once more. “That’s a very big if.”
“I have faith in you.”
Her expression softened. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
He straightened. “I do. Plus, I’m going with you.”
“I’ll come, too,” Connor said.
George shook his head. “Not a good idea. If you suddenly disappear, people will ask questions.”
