“You saw the smoke?” Deputy Marcs was conducting the official investigation on behalf of the sheriff’s department.
Jesse nodded. “Yeah, I did.”
Both he and Ben were waiting to be discharged, a process that seemed to take longer than stitching his head back together.
“What happened then?”
“I didn’t have time to do anything but react. I skied over to him, grabbed it and threw it. I knew we didn’t have enough time to get away, so I knocked Ben to the ground, hoping the blast wave wouldn’t catch us.”
“It could have blown your hand off.” Ben was still coming to grips with what had happened. “It could have killed you.”
Jesse didn’t mince words. “If it had gone off in your hand or mine, it would have killed both of us. No question.”
Across from the little room where Deputy Marcs was interviewing them, Ellie was still busy. A woman had come in with a migraine. A middle-aged man had arrived in an ambulance having chest pain. Then a homeless man had been brought in by Scarlet PD, who’d found him outside Food Mart suffering from hypothermia.
A part of Jesse liked watching her work. She was good at her job—professional, compassionate, skilled. Every once in a while, she looked over at him, and he could see in her eyes that she was still upset.
Yeah, she was still upset. He got that. He just didn’t understand why—not when everything had turned out all right in the end.
“You say you just reacted?”
It took Jesse a moment to realize Deputy Marcs had asked him a question. “There wasn’t time for anything else.”
“How long have you been working with explosives?”
“Well, ten years in the Rangers, plus a couple of years at the resort.”
Marcs stopped writing and looked up. “You were an Army Ranger?”
“Ten years of sustained combat ops with the Seventy-Fifth Ranger Regiment.”
Deputy Marcs closed her notebook and stood. “That experience came in handy today. I’m glad that I’m talking to you instead of waiting for the coroner’s report.”
Ben looked like he wanted to puke.
Ten minutes later, Jesse got his discharge papers. Ellie went through the instructions with him line by line and then had him sign. He was free to go.
He stepped into his ski boots and found himself wondering what the fuck he was supposed to do now. Ben, who was still shaken, caught a ride home with a roommate. But Jesse’s vehicle was still parked up at the ski resort.
He tromped across town to The Cave—a ten-minute walk in ski boots.
Megs sat in the ops room doing paperwork. She looked at his boots and pointed west. “The lift line is that way.”
“Funny.” He glanced around, hoping to see Hawke or Taylor or one of the other guys. “Anyone around who can give me a ride back up to the resort?”
“Belcourt’s in the back. You might be able to bribe him.”
Jesse started to go, then remembered. “Hey, can I borrow one of the UTVs for SnowFest? I’m volunteering for the first-aid tent, and they need a way to cover the event grounds in case someone needs transport.”
“Fine with me. Fill out the paperwork.”
“Thanks.” He headed for the door to the bay.
“Hey, Moretti, good job up there today. I’m not sure what we would do without you.” For Megs, it was an emotional outburst.
“Thanks.”
Jesse found Belcourt sharpening the spikes on crampons—a tedious but necessary chore. “Hey, man, can you give me a ride up to the resort?”