A Little Too Late (Madigan Mountain #1)(84)

“For three million, he better have filled the tank.”

“How long is it going to take Ramos to get there?”

“About ninety minutes,” I answered. “It’ll take us about twenty to fly it.”

“You’re driving this time,” Theo commented. “That way if something breaks, it’s on you.”

I scoffed but nodded as we finished the checklist. Then I took the controls, got clearance from the tower, and launched us into the sky. There was nothing quite like the sound of this hum. It was different in every helicopter, but the beats were distinct in this model, which was pretty much a jazzed-up Huey.

The rotors beat the air into submission, and we took off. The air was thin up here—Leadville was the highest airport in the nation—and the gauges showed it.

We dipped off the peak and flew along the range.

“That’s some pretty blue sky you’ve got here,” Theo said, taking in the scenery.

“Colorado blue. There’s nothing quite like it anywhere else.” We followed the dips and lines through the valley, which had us following the road for the most part.

“Breckenridge?” Theo asked, looking out over the terrain.

“Frisco,” I answered as we veered east. “Breck’s just up there.”

“I can see the runs from here.”

We flew past Keystone and A-basin, then headed toward Penny Ridge, which sat just beneath the Madigan Mountain Resort. From the air, Penny Ridge looked to be about the same as when I’d left—a few new buildings here and there, but nothing significant. That was the beauty of a small town that stayed small.

And the mountains? Those never changed. Not really. The hunter green of the pines gave way at the tree line to jagged gray peaks that cut into the sky like chipped knife blades. We had a couple of weeks until the snow would stick, and another few after that to build enough of a base to open for the season. Just enough time for Theo to get to know the area as well as I did.

“All of the really good skiing is over that ridge.” I nodded toward the runs that were carved into the mountain, their thin strips of pale green slicing through the trees, accompanied only by the chairlift I’d helped repair too many times to count. “We’ll do an area orientation flight tomorrow if Jeanine doesn’t have you unpacking.”

“She will,” he answered with a smile, his voice softening like it always did when he talked about his wife. Those two were…iconic, enviable. That was the only way to describe their relationship. “But we’ll make time.”

From the air, I could see just how much the expansion was already underway. New runs had been cut in recently purchased land, and construction had begun for the new condo development, or whatever Reed was calling it.

And right there, between the existing resort and Madigan 2.0, was the building Reed had promised, along with an X-marked helipad. Not that I’d ever doubted. If Reed said he was going to do something, then it got done.

It was the shit he didn’t promise that had always been our issue.

“Looks like that’s all for us,” Theo said. “You know, it’s not every family that welcomes you home with a new hangar.” He glanced over meaningfully.

“Don’t go there.” I maneuvered the aircraft carefully, making sure I hadn’t missed any powerline construction in the last decade. “It’s too early.”

“My man, we are already going there.” Theo leaned forward as we approached the helipad. “Or is that not your name on the side of that building?”

“My last name,” I muttered, setting her down. And just like that, I was…here. My chest ached, and I knew it wasn’t only from the lack of oxygen up here at nine thousand feet.

There wasn’t much I could do about what was waiting for me outside the aircraft, so I concentrated on what was inside, starting the postflight. I cut the engines, and the rotors spun slower and slower, like a countdown to a confrontation that had been waiting the better part of a decade. I fucking hated this place, and now it was supposed to be my home again.

What the hell had I been thinking?

I kept my attention on the helicopter, deliberately looking away from the path that led toward the resort as we opened the unlocked building and got the bird onto the cart that would move it from the pad and into the hangar. Theo drove her in while I guided, my focus narrowed to getting her secured.

But then she was tucked away, and my time for self-indulgence was over.

Theo checked a text message after we got the hangar doors shut. “Jeanine is here.”

“Go,” I told him. “You have a whole house to unpack.”

“Maria should be here with your truck in”—he checked his watch—“half an hour or so. You going to be okay?”

“Absolutely.” Maria and Theo had bigger things to worry about than me.

He gave me a nod and took off through the side door of the building, leaving me alone in the hangar.

It was small but well-sized for what we needed. Packed correctly, we could probably fit another bird in here. Equipment lined one side of the building, and there were two walled-off offices along the other, both sporting windows into the hangar.

I could see the desks in one of them, where we would set up bookings and take care of the business end of the operation, and the other was empty except for the stack of plastic chairs that looked like they’d been taken straight out of the church basement. It was a good area to brief the skiers.