Somehow I talked Alisa into okaying another little venture: one last photo op. Oren wasn’t thrilled, but I got the distinct feeling this wasn’t his first time securing a trip to the lodge at the base of the mountain.
“My grandfather outlawed the Drop when I was around twelve,” Xander announced in the SUV on the way down. “Too many broken bones.”
“Because that’s not concerning or anything,” Max said cheerfully. “Hawthornes,” Thea scoffed.
“Be nice.” Rebecca gave her a look.
“It’s just a friendly game of ski-lift chicken,” Xander assured us. “You ride the lift up, until someone calls ‘drop.’ And then you”—Xander shrugged—“drop.”
“As in jump off the lift?” I stared at him.
“The first person to call is the challenger. If the other person declines, the challenger has to drop. If the other person accepts the challenge, they drop and get a fifteen-second head start in the race.”
“The race?” Max and I said in unison. “To the bottom,” Xander clarified.
“That is the single dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” I told Xander.
“Maybe,” Xander replied stubbornly. “But as soon as we’ve finished at the lodge, I’ve got winner.”
 |
At the lodge, we were escorted through the main dining room to a private alcove overlooking the slopes beyond. Two of Oren’s men took position at the door while my head of security stayed glued to me.
“You sit,” Alisa told me. “You sip on hot chocolate. We get a few pictures—and we get you out.”
That was her plan. We had our own. Namely, identify the boy in the photo. Xander seemed to think that some of the staff at the lodge had worked here for decades. Given how tight security was on me, I wasn’t holding my breath that I’d be able to do this myself, but Max and Xander were a different story.
So were Thea and Rebecca.
Oren let the four of them venture off to the bathroom with a single guard. When they came back ten minutes later, that bodyguard looked like he had developed a migraine.
“These two,” Max told me, nodding toward Thea and Rebecca, “are
really useful in getting information out of people.” “Thea’s better at flirting,” Rebecca murmured.
Thea met Rebecca’s eyes. “And you’re a very quick learner.” “What did they find out?” I asked Max and Xander.
“The guy in the photo used to work on the mountain.” Max was clearly relishing this. “He was a ski instructor, early twenties. Very big with the ladies.”
“Did you get a name?” I asked.
Xander was the one who provided that answer. “Jake Nash.”
Jake. My brain whirred. Nash.
