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Chapter 23
Black Diamonds
8:28 A.M.
Having stepped off the gondola, locked boots into skis, and taken a four-person chair lift to the top of the mountain, the group convened near a sign at the start of a run, a black diamond painted on the metal placard.
Chase lowered his goggles and adjusted them over his eyes. “I know your skiing abilities, Noah.” He spied the women and tipped his head back toward the sign. “We have to go down two ‘black diamonds’ to get to where we need to go. Are you two comfortable with that level of difficulty?”
Devlin adjusted her gloves. “Don’t worry about me.”
Faith threaded fingers into ski pole handles and flashed two upturned thumbs.
“Okay.” He paused. “At the end of the second one, try to work up some steam. We’ll be entering a cross-country trail, and the extra momentum will help us not have to work so hard at getting up the incline. Hopefully, we won’t have to slow down for any skiers on the trails.” He paused. “Is everyone good?”
The women bobbed their heads once.
Randall slipped on his goggles. “You’ve got point. I’ll take rear-guard.”
Chase smiled. “I never thought I’d see the day when you weren’t charging in first.” He pushed off.
Randall raised his voice. “Don’t get used to it.”
With Faith on her heels, Devlin followed the leader.
After giving the three a healthy head start, Randall dug in his poles, lifted both skis off the snow, and headed straight down the steep slope, making his first hard turn after having cut in half the distance between Faith and him.
At the bottom of the run, the grade flattened, and Chase veered left toward the southeastern side of the mountain. A hundred yards later, at the second black diamond run, he made a sharp ninety to the right.
Randall’s heart skipped a beat while he watched his friend seemingly drop out of sight. Having skied in rough, backcountry terrain that was only accessible via helicopter, Randall could tell the next slope would be a sheer one. He spied Faith and Devlin. Hope they were right about their skills.
Attacking the grade, Devlin and Faith disappeared a second apart from each other.
His skis went airborne as he sailed over the sharp undulation. Expecting to see a wipeout, Randall flexed his leg muscles and prepared for a quick stop.
Up ahead, the women knifed through their turns throwing snow with each change of direction. A moment later, her right ski coming a foot off the snow, Faith listed left.
He stood taller, Uh-oh, before hunching over and accelerating toward her.
Her arms flailing for a half second, she regained her balance and caught her stride again.
Randall slowed and let out a sigh. Nice recovery.
At the front of the line, Chase cranked his head to the right for a few seconds, faced forward, pointed his skis in the same direction, bent over, and tucked poles under armpits.
Devlin and Faith mimicked his stance.
Thirty yards passed, and the leader leaned into a left turn and zipped through a gap in the trees.
Devlin and Faith traced his path perfectly.
Two beats later, Randall entered the cross-country track. His skis finding lanes, he curled into a ball and coasted up the hill. Losing momentum, he stood, dug poles into the ground, and propelled himself along while noticing Faith’s twenty-yard lead on him was closing rapidly.
Their boots locked into downhill ski bindings, rendering the power in their legs virtually useless to them, Devlin and Faith had only their arms to propel them up the rising angle.
Chase hopped off the trail, drifted right, and glided down an embankment.
The women followed suit.
Randall took the same track before performing a quick left-right turn and snaking his way down the narrow tree-lined trail his party had already taken. Through a gap in the forest on his left, he noted an orange snow fence. On the other side, the vantage point resembled that of an abrupt drop off from the top of a cliff.
Fifty yards later, Randall skied into a clearing and saw his companions clustered near a fence that ran down the rest of the mountain. Not slowing, he sped to the left of the gathering, threw out the backs of his skis, turned toward Faith, and performed a textbook hockey stop on her nine o’clock, sending a three-foot-high rooster tail of fresh powder through the fence’s chain links.
She eyed the remains of the white stuff clinging to the gray steel before confronting him. “Show off. Is that supposed to impress me?”
“Nope. I just,” he plopped goggles onto his head and exhaled, “haven’t done that in a while. It always feels great.” Regarding her, “Speaking of impressive,” he stuck out his chin, “you recovered nicely from that near mishap back there.”
“Yeah,” she looked at the landscape beyond his right shoulder, “it’s been some time since I’ve been on skis. I’m not sure what happened.”
“It’s age-related. As you get older...”
She squinted at him.
“...you start losing,” he noticed tiny slits for eyes behind her goggles, “your,” he faltered, “balance.”
Faith tilted her head sideways.
Both poles in his left hand, he wagged his free index finger at her straight-lined lips. “Actually, come to think of it, I believe I felt a patch of ice in that same area.” Nodding, he glanced uphill and came back to her. “That,” he stuttered, “that-that was probably it. Your ski just lost an edge. It happens to the best of us—So,” he eyed the other male, “why have we stopped here? What’s...”
Turning her back on the man quickly changing topics, Faith allowed a sliver of a smile to play out over her features. Talk about your nice recoveries from mishaps.
“...what’s the attraction, Chase?”
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Chapter 24
Cabin
Chase dipped his forehead toward the chain fence, toward a large structure on the opposite side, the length of two football fields away, and fifty feet lower in elevation. “That’s the cabin where we think your man is holed up.”
Save for a twenty-five-yard cushion of open space around its perimeter, the dwelling was surrounded by tall pines on all sides. A break in
