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“Yeah, listen…”
“I know how you love authentic experiences,” Carty continues, sneering. I wish I could reach through the phone and punch him in the ear.
“Carty, would you just listen to me? We have a problem. We have… What do I call it? A situation.”
I hear a hiccup on the other side of the line, and imagine him sitting up straight and running his fingers through his beard to organize it. Carty still has some sense of corporate propriety about him, after all.
“All right. Explain, please.”
“There’s been a breach.”
“I see,” he says slowly. “Animal or human?”
“Do you think I would call you if it was an animal?”
“No, I guess not,” he chuckles. “If it was an animal, you’d probably have already mounted the head and turned the rest into sausage, right? Steaks for everybody!”
“Exactly.”
“So what have we got here, brother?”
I shrug, trying to piece it back together. If I just tell him I’ve got a beautiful redhead naked in the cabin, he’s going to be distracted. I need to explain this very cautiously.
“It’s probably nothing,” I begin. “A lost skier. Injured. I wrapped her ankle, just a sprain. She’ll be fine, but…”
“Jesus, Jake,” Carty says softly. “She can’t know we’re here. Who is she?”
“I don’t know. Skier, like I said.”
“Yeah, hold on,” he mumbles, distracted. His voice recedes, then comes back. “Does she look like a Lola to you?”
“Um, I guess?” I shrug. Lola is as good a name as any for a tall, leggy redhead, I suppose.
“Well, fuck, Jake… she’s a journalist. Reported missing by her friends…. Says here they’re sending out a search party tomorrow. You gotta get out of there.”
“A journalist? Are you fucking kidding me? Do you think she—”
“How the hell would I know?” he grunts. “Do you mean you didn’t even find out what she’s doing there? Did you bother to ask or have you been—”
“—you know I haven’t!”
“Damn right you haven’t!” he roars. I can see him in my mind’s eye, pacing across the study in front of the huge windows. We can see everything from that view, practically half the lake. But apparently he didn’t see this.
“All right, we just need to get this sorted,” he finally growls. “Still a good chance she’s just a bimbo who got lost. It’s up to you, I guess. You’re in charge. So, what the hell are you gonna do with her?”
“Well, I can’t just let her go…”
“Why the hell not?” comes a sharp voice behind me.
I twist around, coming face-to-face with an angry, wet-haired redhead. She’s laughably adorable in my flannel robe, cinched at the waist as she stands on one foot with her hands on her hips.
“Jake? What’s going on?” Carty asks urgently.
“Why can’t you let me go?” she asks again, her eyes flashing.
“Jake, you gotta get her up here,” I hear him say. “Carry her, drag her on a sled, or invent a transporter, I don’t care. We need to take care of this, do you hear me?”
