Conceal, Protect - By Carol Ericson Page 0,26
give you a ride?”
“I have no idea. I haven’t found him yet.”
J.D.’s heart slammed against his rib cage. “What do you mean? You haven’t seen Ted yet?”
“I thought he’d be at the first-aid station here, but he’s not and the ski patrol hasn’t picked him up.”
“Did he tell you he’d be at the first-aid station?”
“Actually, no. I just assumed. He texted me that he’d injured himself snowboarding and asked me to meet him on the mountain. When I tried texting him back, I didn’t get a response. I tried calling and it went straight to an automated voice mail, like the phone was turned off. He may not be getting reception on the mountain, especially if he’s on a run.”
“Where are you now, Noelle?” His dry mouth seemed to be impeding his speech, and he didn’t even know if his words had made sense.
“I’m still at the first-aid station. I figured if ski patrol picked him up, they’d bring him here.”
“Stay there. Don’t move. I’m on my way.”
“J.D.? Are you okay?”
“I don’t want to make you jumpy, but someone broke into your place—twice. He set up a camera the second time, and for all you know, the first time, too. I just don’t like the idea of you roaming around the ski resort by yourself.”
Her sharp intake of breath told him she hadn’t even thought about her own safety as she’d run headlong to Ted’s rescue.
“I-it’s broad daylight. There are thousands of people crisscrossing this resort.”
And Zendaris’s men could still get to you if they wanted to.
“Just stay at the first-aid station. You’re right. Ted will be headed there one way or another.”
“Okay, I’m sitting down inside as we speak. You should be able to make it up here in fifteen minutes.”
“I’m on my way—as we speak—so I’d better not drive and talk at the same time. Sit tight.” He ended the call and tossed the phone into the cup holder.
The flurries had turned into some serious snowfall, so he cranked up the windshield wipers and the defroster. The snow on the road kept him from racing to the resort, but his hands clutched the steering wheel and his leg hovered over the gas pedal, aching to slam down the accelerator and go one hundred miles an hour to reach Noelle’s side.
The slow-moving storm drew the skiers and boarders to the mountain like devotees on a pilgrimage—and that’s what they were—snow devotees. He maneuvered his truck around the boarders clomping along in their boots and the skiers, their skis balanced on their shoulders, poles under their arms.
He waited for a car pulling out of a spot and glared at the other driver eyeing the same spot. The glare won, and J.D. pulled into the empty slot.
Breathless, feeling as if he’d just come down from the mountain himself, he strode toward the resort. He knew the first-aid station sat at the end of the row of windows selling passes and ski lessons, and he cut through the lines to reach the front door.
Pushing through the door, he spotted Noelle parked in a chair, her white jacket slung over her knees in the warm room. His jaw ached from tension, but he managed a smile and he also managed to not charge across the room, tuck her under one arm and haul her out of there.
“No sign of Ted?”
“It’s weird. The patrol hasn’t received any calls about an injured adult boarder matching Ted’s description—only a few cocky teens and a newlywed trying to impress his wife.”
“How long ago did Ted text you?” He held out his hand. “Can I see your phone?”
She fished in her bag and dropped her cell in his outstretched hand. “I’ve been sitting here for about twenty-five minutes, and it took me twenty minutes to get up here on the shuttle.”
J.D. checked the time on the text, which matched Noelle’s calculations. Then he noticed the sender, and he held up the phone facing her. “How do you know this text is from Ted?”
“Duh. The first thing in the text is this is Ted.”
“The sender is unknown. Don’t you have his phone number in your contacts?”
She rolled her eyes. “Ted has trouble paying his bills sometimes. He usually goes with a prepaid phone.”
“You said you reached voice mail. Was it his voice on the message?”
She crinkled her brow. “It was one of those recordings, you know, the caller you have reached, blah, blah.”
He sat in the chair next to hers and placed the phone in her hand. Hadn’t it