“That’s not cool,” Gage muttered.
Muth went on. “Mr. Newman and I wish all of our student athletes the best of luck. Show your fans why VMA is the special place it is.”
“The same way you showed us that you’re the arsehole we all think you are?” Ali said in an undertone as people bolted from the room.
I rolled my neck and unclenched my fists. I wasn’t really a student at this school, and I wasn’t trying that hard to get good grades, but no one else knew that. Muth was a bully. I wanted to respond, but he’d like nothing better than for me to disrespect him in front of the student body so he could boot me.
“Sorry, Nic. He calls people out sometimes, but that was cruel.” Veena glared at him. “He’s such a flaming knobhead.”
I stared. “Veena, you didn’t curse in carrots.”
“He deserved the real thing.” With a dark look toward Muth, she stood. “Let’s go.”
We waded into the stream of students flowing down the hall, where Newman called to Veena. “May I speak with you a moment?”
I followed them to a nearby classroom, staying by the door. He glanced at me but didn’t ask me to leave. Which was good, because I wouldn’t.
He handed her a piece of paper. “I wanted to be sure you had your schedule for Copper. Your agent asked me to remind you about the media session tomorrow afternoon.”
She studied it. “I didn’t know the session would be so long. I need time in the pipe.”
“I understand. But you know this is important to your sponsors. The media have found their face of the Laax Winter Olympic Games.” His smile was kind. “You.”
“I committed to it, so I’ll be there.” She sounded resigned.
“You’ll arrive by car?” Newman directed this at me. I nodded. Brown had already spoken to Muth about the schedule. “Please be sure she isn’t late. Busy day tomorrow.”
“We’ll get her there on time.” The day and night teams would follow us. Wherever Veena went, we all went, her massively expensive security entourage.
“Excellent. Good luck, Veena.”
She thanked him, and he looked pleased as he walked back toward his office. Across the lobby, under Bode the elk and beside the flickering fireplace, Darya lounged in a deep leather chair, her eyes on us. I ignored her. As Veena and I walked toward the stairs, I felt the energy drain out of her.
“Worried about the media thing?” I asked.
“Not really. Just wish I had more time to prepare for my runs.” She took a long pull from her water bottle. “At least I get to see my parents tomorrow. They’re in Denver tonight. I’m going to call them, okay?”
I walked her to our room, did all my checks, and texted Kovitch to cover so I could check in with his team outside.
I passed back through the lobby on my way out. But Darya was gone.
In the morning, Vail was covered in white.
“A foot overnight and more to come,” Gage said at breakfast. The room pulsed with excitement, but Veena had been quiet since we woke up. “Weather people underestimated, of course. You need to get moving. Newman said they might close the interstate. The vans are leaving early, too.”
We scarfed our food and hurried outside. Bart had already loaded Veena’s and my bags and all her snowboard gear into the black BMW.
As I held the car door open for her, her eyes were on the other teens flinging bags into the open back doors of three vans across the parking lot with Vail Mountain Academy emblazoned on the sides. Ali’s sunflower yellow ski jacket was visible through the swirling snow.
I smiled sympathetically. “You’ll be crammed in there with them again when this is all over.”
“When will that be?”
I didn’t have an answer. Until law enforcement tracked the extortionists down, she had to try to live her life. With each day that went by, I realized the stress that put on her, because I felt it myself. Was today the day the bad guys would quit threatening and act? Tomorrow? Would they wait until the Games? Maybe they never would. We didn’t know, and that was the crushing part.
We left town, traveling east on the highway. The view last time I came through here was gorgeous, peaks and valleys frosted with snow and framed by blue as far as I could see. Not today. Snowflakes hit the windshield faster than the wipers could clear them away. The car shifted sideways as the wind shoved it around. Near the top of Vail Pass, a jackknifed truck blocked the right lane and shoulder, a police car and tow truck behind it.
Bart drove with confidence through the piling snowdrifts but being on the road in this weather was obviously dangerous. Reasonable people would be curled in a blanket with a mug of hot chocolate right now.
We crested the pass and started down . . . which was way worse. Every time we approached a turn in the road, I imagined careening off the highway into the ravine below. Veena listened to music through her headphones, and Bart focused on the road, leaving me to clench the edge of the backseat with white knuckles.
At the bottom of the pass, several police cars waited, lights strobing blue and red. Over on the westbound side, a wide gate already blocked the road. Cars lined up behind it.
“What’s happening?” I asked Bart.
Veena’s eyes opened, and she freed an ear.
“They closed the pass going westbound,” he answered. “It looks like eastbound will be shut down, too.” We passed the still-open gate on our side. Workers in heavy coats and snow pants pushed it closed behind us.
Veena twisted to look back. “What about the vans?”
“They’ll have to stop or turn around,” Bart said.
“Celery,” Veena said.
I stared at her, perplexed. “If they don’t get there in time . . . shouldn’t that make things easier for you?”
She slumped
