Page 3 of K-9 Prime Target

The sound of her name, delivered in that deep voice with the slight Irish brogue. Even now, after all this time, that sound sent a hot flutter through her.

She straightened her shoulders and turned to face him. “Hello, Liam. What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, actually.” An upward twitch of his lips took the sting from the words and melted the last of her reserve.

She sagged. “Oh, Liam, you don’t want anything to do with me, trust me. I’m a mess.”

“You’re obviously upset about something. The banners around town—with your face, ten feet tall?”

Her face burned. “I wasn’t expecting them,” she said. “It’s too much.”

“You should be used to your face being in the public eye. And aren’t you the resort’s—what do they call it—brand ambassador?”

A harsh laugh escaped her. “What a title.” She hugged her arms across her chest. “Most of the time I think of myself as a ski patroller.”

The lines around his eyes and across his forehead deepened. “Didn’t they tell you they’ve designed a whole marketing campaign around you?”

She drew in a deep breath. “There’s been talk of that kind of thing. Right after I was hired. But that was three years ago, and nothing ever came of it. Too expensive, I thought.”

“They’re spending the money now. They’ve hired me to do a series of videos for a social media campaign. And still photos for a print campaign.”

“You?” She knew the kind of fees a videographer of Liam’s caliber could command. “Why didn’t they tell me?”

“Is everything okay?” The click of heels on the fake wood floor announced Marlena’s arrival. Doug followed close behind her.

Nina turned to Doug. “Why didn’t you tell me about this new marketing campaign?” she asked.

“I thought you’d be pleased we’re finally following through on the promises we made when you were hired,” he said. “I want you to know how much we value you, beyond your role as a ski patroller.”

She swallowed back the first reply that came to mind. The resort valued the silver medal in a safe in her house, and maybe the face and figure that had walked runways in Paris and New York. The work she did with ski patrol—protecting resort visitors, helping the injured and saving lives—was worth far more than that. “Why launch a new marketing effort now?” she asked.

Another man might have frowned, but Doug’s forehead remained perfectly smooth. “When the federal government turned down our expansion request earlier this month, one of the reasons given was safety concerns. I’m sure that was due to all the adverse publicity we received after that bombing attempt at the first of the year. Our parent company is anxious to erase those things from people’s memories.”

Of course. A local man who blamed the resort for the loss of his family’s ranch had planned to bomb lifts and set off inbounds avalanches. Fortunately, his plan had been discovered before he could do much damage. But plenty of other people had opposed SkyCrest’s plan to expand the resort into adjacent wilderness, enough that the government, who owned the land, turned down the request.

“What better way to build a positive image of SkyCrest than to highlight that we’re home to an American skiing hero,” Marlena said.

“Doug, I—” Nina began.

“Is there a problem with Liam?” Marlena interrupted. She scowled at the photographer. “I take it you two know each other from the documentary he filmed about the U.S. Women’s Ski Team. Because we can find another videographer.”

“No!” The last thing she wanted was to cause Liam to lose a job. She had done enough to hurt him already. “There’s nothing wrong with Liam. He’s a wonderful photographer and videographer. I’m just not comfortable with this kind of attention.”

“Nonsense!” Marlena waved a dismissive hand. “You’ve stood on a podium with the whole world watching. Our little marketing campaign is nothing compared to that.”

“You signed a contract agreeing to participate in our marketing efforts.” Doug’s voice was pleasant, but the meaning behind his words sent a chill through her.

“Backing out would be a breach of contract,” Marlena added.

“Is there something specific you’re worried about?” Liam asked, his voice soft, the words only for her. “Or someone? Have you heard something? Seen something?”

“What are you talking about?” Marlena asked.

“They don’t know?” Liam asked her.

Nina glanced at Marlena. “There was a stalker,” she said. “Shortly after the Olympics.”

“Oh, I remember reading about that,” Marlena said. “They arrested someone, didn’t they?”