The big man Rae had seen earlier tossed a small wave and a smile over his shoulder, then returned his attention to the dash.
Rae strapped into her seat.
The French couple sat across from her, Ivan next to her. “Where’s Sam?”
Ivan pointed. Sam rushed away from the helicopter and toward the doors of the facilities.
The helicopter lifted.
“Wait. We’re not going to leave without her, are we?” Rae tried to unbuckle.
Ivan pointed at his watch and turned his attention to the paying tourists eager to hit the cowboy powder, as Ivan had termed it. “She’ll be fine. Something must have come up.”
Rae wrestled with indecision, but the helicopter was lifting away, and she had no choice. This was better, actually, as far as questioning Ivan. If she could get him alone at some point, she could ask what he knew about Zoey. Then she could talk to Sam about the books when she got back. Relief settled in and she let herself hope. With Rae pursuing this side of their investigation and Liam working the resort, they would get answers sooner.
The photographs told the story—Ivan had been a big part of Sam’s and Zoey’s lives before Zoey disappeared. Why hadn’t Ivan protected Zoey from her stalker? Rae had instinctively known that posing that question to him when she’d first met him at Sam’s house would provide no answers. Now she might get a chance to ask him in his own comfortable environment on the cowboy powder.
Rae’s heart rate soared. Her father had faced improvised explosive devices, direct bombs, bullets. He’d witnessed atrocities and suffered brutalities to expose the truth.
As for her—this helicopter ride. A day of skiing the slopes.
This wasn’t suffering.
Even so, Rae had the feeling she would have to keep thinking about her father’s endurance to make it through this day. Ivan, the ultimate tour guide, shared the names of the mountain peaks they flew over. The ridges and valleys. The pure, unadulterated wilderness. Snake River, whose path traversed from Wyoming through Idaho and then through Washington, where it joined the Columbia River and spilled into the Pacific.
The privileged few, Ivan continued to emphasize.
Finally, he turned his gaze on her. “And you, you’re here with a ‘press pass.’” He made invisible quotes with his fingers. “Since you’re a journalist, I hope you’ll write about this experience.”
She stared out the window as Ivan droned on, and finally she was able to tune him out as her thoughts moved back to Liam. She could imagine him gripping her shoulders as he expressed hurt and frustration that she’d left the resort. But inflexibility, the inability to shift and change with the investigation, wouldn’t help.
The helicopter swooped over the mountaintop, then dropped fast. Nausea rolled inside Rae like waves.
Liam. Think about Liam.
Those brown eyes she could get lost in. She had gotten lost in. His sunlit, wheat-colored hair that hung in waves to his collar. Broad shoulders. The moment she first met him—both of them following the same trail of traffickers but for different reasons. If she could go back in time, she would listen to him and back off. Instead, she’d hit the proverbial land mine and had blown both their careers to bits.
Ivan warned that the helicopter was fast approaching their drop-off. Her breathing kicked up a notch to keep up with her racing heartbeat. And now it was showtime.
The helicopter hovered near the top of a jagged-edged mountain, then slowly landed on a predominantly flat spot into fresh, white powder Rae had only seen in pictures. Breathtaking. No groomed slopes that ended at a resort with food and people. Only wilderness and adventure awaited her.
Then the rotor wash filled the air with white dust.
Zoey . . . Tawny . . . she had likely taken this same ski route hundreds of times. Heart pounding, Rae hopped out and landed in the cowboy powder, boots first.
She joined the others unloading the gear.
The helicopter lifted up and away, leaving them to tame the mountain. After gearing up, the French couple took off. Rae was alone with Ivan. She should ask him about Zoey.
He stared at her long and hard, then covered his dark eyes with reflective goggles. “Tawny skied here, Rae. This was her favorite place.”
“Thank you for bringing me.” Rae soaked in the sight of the snowcapped mountain.
“Let’s go, then.” Ivan pushed off with his poles and left her.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Saturday, 12:15 p.m.
Saddleback Mountain Ski Resort
Liam gritted his teeth. He hadn’t wanted Rae going on that heli-skiing tour alone. Though, if