meet you. How come all my old family friends look like the couple in American Gothic? Not fair.”
Hannah grinned. “Pleased to meet you, too. You aren’t competing this weekend?”
“I’m taking a break. I figured if Tripp could laze around doing nothing…”
“I’ll have you know I was up on the ski hill a few hours ago, scaring up more excitement than we were looking for.”
Jake grabbed a chair from an unoccupied table and pulled it up to the end of the booth. “So, the rumors floating around are true? A couple of regulars at the bar told me you saw someone murdered out on the mountain. Then another guy countered with ski patrol’s version of events, that you’d taken one knock on the head too many and were seeing things. Knowing how stories get exaggerated, I figured both versions were a load of crap.”
Tripp thumped down his beer mug. “People are talking already?”
“Appears so. What happened?”
Hannah dropped her burger back onto her plate as her face lost some of its color.
Tripp spoke quickly. “We don’t have to discuss it while we’re eating.”
She waved a hand. “You might as well tell him. I’m going to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.”
His brow furrowed. “Hannah?”
“I’m fine.” A weak smile curled her lips as she slid out of the booth. “Really.”
Tripp wasn’t so sure.
“She didn’t look fine,” Jake commented as Hannah disappeared into the crowd.
His attention snapped back to his friend. “No, she didn’t. Hannah’s taking this whole situation a little harder than I am.”
Jake propped one elbow on the table and stole a fry off Tripp’s plate. “Taking what, exactly?”
“We saw someone fall off a chairlift. Or get pushed.” Tripp bit into his burger, chewed then swallowed. “Unless it was a large object instead of a person. No dead body down below. I looked.”
“Wow.”
“Ski patrol is going with the theory that it was just a bag…or my imagination. I can’t believe news has already spread.”
“A Squaw lift op was in here earlier, said he was manning Oly Lady when the shit hit the fan—or in this case, the snow.”
“So, half the town knows by now.” Tripp ran a hand through his hair. “We saw the guy who was left on the chairlift, along with another man, leave the parking lot at Squaw afterward. I’d recognize the one dude if I saw him again. Too bad no one cares since there’s apparently no crime to report.”
Jake took another fry. “Do you really think someone fell?”
“At this point, I don’t know what to believe.” Tripp let out a long breath. “I do know the impact would have killed him. Whatever dropped from that chair landed on rocks. I hope the guy was just throwing a backpack down to his buddy and not committing murder.”
“Makes more sense than a disappearing body.”
“Agreed.” He paused with the last of his burger halfway to his mouth. “Here comes Hannah. No more morbid talk, okay?”
“Sure.” Jake rose to his feet and returned the chair to the adjacent table. “Looks like my date just walked in. I’ll catch you later.”
“See you around.”
Hannah smiled at Jake as they passed before resuming her seat. “Your friend had to leave?”
Tripp nodded. “Eat your burger. It’s getting cold.”
She glanced down at her plate with a visible lack of enthusiasm. “I’m not very hungry.”
“I don’t care. Eat.”
She took a small bite. “Who are you, your mom?”
He grinned. “Mine, not yours?”
“Mine always told me not to eat so much. She wasn’t exactly mother-of-the-year material. That’s why I enjoyed hanging out with your family on school breaks. The whole Wilde clan was fun and non-judgmental.”
Her tone was matter-of-fact without a hint of self-pity. He figured commiseration on her family situation was a little late at this point. “Does she still live in Tahoe? You grew up here, right?”
“Who, my mother?” Hannah shook her head. “She moved to Palm Springs with husband number four quite a few years ago. Yeah, I grew up here, then left for college, and eventually worked in the Bay Area. I moved back to Tahoe when my grandpa—my dad’s dad—passed away and left me his cabin.”
“Where’s your father now?”
“He died when I was really young. Car accident.”
“That’s rough.” Tripp dipped a fry in ketchup. “Four husbands, huh?”
“She’s divorced again and currently reeling in number five…or so she says. I get a text every now and then.”
Sympathy for the unknown man surged. Hannah’s mother sounded like a real piece of work. No wonder she’d hung out with Eden so much while they were in college together.
“If you’re only going to push that burger around your plate, we can leave if you want.”
“I want.” She sipped her soda while he waved a hand to attract the attention of their waitress.
Mindy hurried over. “Another beer, Tripp?”
“Just our check.”
“Coming right up.” She handed menus to a couple who sat down at the empty table opposite them then hurried off.
The newcomer slouched back in his chair and took a healthy swallow of his drink. Based on the man’s glassy-eyed gaze, it wasn’t his first of the evening.
“That bitch, Monica Wright, is back in town. Couldn’t believe she had the balls to show her face after the way she burned me on a real estate deal a few years ago.”
“So you’ve told me. Three times.” The woman with him let out a heavy sigh. “Let it go, Harvey. Your blood pressure will be through the roof.”
“I can’t. She cost me a bundle, and I wasn’t the only one she reamed in the process. If you think I’m pissed, you should hear the way Frank talks about her. He called me from here earlier, but I guess he already left.”
Mindy reappeared. “Here you go.” She laid the check on the table before clearing their plates.
“Thanks.” Tripp glanced at the tab then pulled a couple of twenties out of his wallet to drop on the tray. “Keep the change.”
She scooped it up with her free hand. “You’re such a sweetie. Give me a call sometime.”
Hannah slid out of the booth after the waitress walked away. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s go.”
“Lead on.” Grinning, Tripp followed her through the bar and out into the parking lot. A cold gust of wind blew fine particles of snow through the air as he unlocked his shiny red pickup. Once they were inside and out of the arctic blast, he started the engine then cranked up the heater. “It’s freezing tonight. I guess the weatherman was right about an Alaskan cold front moving in.”
Hannah held her hands in front of the vent as tepid air swirled into the cab. “That guy at the table next to us was pretty heated. His temper could have melted a snowbank.”
“Drunken blowhard.”
“I bumped into the woman he was talking about the day of the avalanche. She’s an old friend of my mother’s. Or at least they used to be drinking buddies back when